PreCursive

Chapter 182 - Void

I wasn’t a total moron, of course. I didn’t trust this woman as far as I could throw her. Even if…that was probably farther than I would expect, if I engaged Sylvan Vigor at full strength.

Moving on.

The point being, I wasn’t going to walk into a meeting with a Herztalian/Calonawr noblewoman with unknown intentions entirely alone. I’d gotten Hook’s approval to recruit some backup for my little impromptu operation involving Rhiannon. I wasn’t going to involve Renauld any further in this situation, as I genuinely didn’t want to put him under any further scrutiny. Thankfully, I belonged to an organization purpose built for this kind of thing.

Obviously, I tapped Sylvia as part of my backup, as one of the people I trusted the most in my life. I didn’t think that was enough, though, so I went looking for anyone that was free in our dockside temporary base of operations. My first choice would have been Dusk, but she wasn’t around. Still out on her own infiltration mission, whatever the hell that was. Instead, I found Crook and Wisp doing their best to relax together in the small, fishy break room we’d fashioned out of a tool shed.

They had tea and everything.

Wisp was more than willing to assist when I explained the situation to the two of them, thanks to the passing friendship I’d struck up with the older woman. Crook was…a little harder to convince, but after a bit of cajoling from Wisp, agreed to tag along.

Which brought us to now.

It was very late at night by this point, as the meeting time that had been specified as three hours past midnight. Not only that, but it was an unusually dark night, as the normally bright silver illumination provided by Elys was absent. It was a new moon tonight, and the shadow of Vereden was cast upon the celestial body, bathing the world below in a deeper, darker night.

The hustle and bustle that was normally ever-present on the streets of Elderwyck had long since died down by now, and there were only a few stragglers on the road. Mostly rebellious teenagers, drunks, and packs of guards and soldiers. But they were few and far between, as most normal people actually liked to sleep.

The four of us were crouched together on top of a roof, concealed by the shadows of an overhang above us. As we were actually attempting true stealth tonight, and didn’t wish to be identified or associated with the Order, none of us were actually wearing our normal mission armor. Instead, we were all wearing relatively non-descript clothing under dark, concealing cloaks. However, my backup were still wearing their masks. I, unfortunately, didn’t have that protection.

Within eyeshot of us was the meeting spot that Rhiannon had apparently set in the message conveyed through Renauld. That of a small, local garden tended to by the people of Elderwyck. It reminded me somewhat of a park from back on Earth, but the comparison wasn’t completely accurate. During the day, it was a popular local gathering place for the city, complete with a small plaza. Usually, it was packed with people and vendors hawking street food from dawn till dusk. As it was after dusk, it was barren and still.

We’d been here for some time now, watching the meeting place. None of us could be certain that this wasn’t a trap of some kind, and so we had wanted to observe it just in case. But we’d seen nothing, despite the general feeling of unease I could feel in my gut. At first, I hadn’t realized what it was that unsettled me about Rhiannon. From the way she had interacted with me and simply from how she had spoken, something about her set my teeth on edge. It was as if she was a predator that didn’t take anyone seriously, and expected all of us to play along with whatever game she was playing at the moment. But eventually, I’d realized what had put me so off-kilter about her, what had made me so intensely distrustful of Bleddyn’s kin.

She reminded me of Magnus.

I don’t even think it was just that she was a noble. Something in her eyes…there was an utter disregard for people that lurked in those burgundy depths that reminded me of him.

Even with Ringed Mind, enough of my portioned brain was distracted by thoughts of my former ‘owner’ that I lost track of my observation. I was knocked out of my near seething by an elbow to the ribs. Following it, I found a black mask speckled with white dots staring at me almost disapprovingly.

I suppressed my instinctual embarrassment. “What is it?” I asked Crook in a whisper.

Instead of answering, she just jerked her head slightly in the direction of the park. Squinting in that direction, I tried to see what had caught her attention. With how dark it was out here, I nearly couldn't make it out. But when I did, my heart rate picked up slightly.

Sitting on a wooden bench in the darkened garden plaza across from our position was a shadowed figure. Due to the lack of light, it was difficult to make out many features about them. Only a few things really stood out to me about the silhouette.

They were tall, and they were maybe wearing a dress. It could just as easily be a hooded cloak, though, or even both. I think? I think I could see some strands of long hair escaping a hood.

That was it. That was the limit of what my Perception score could interpret.

I cursed, wishing that I had a far-eye on me. Sadly, they weren’t quite as ubiquitous as I had hoped they were. They were really only commonly used by Naval forces, and were hard to come by for everyone else. Even clandestine Agents like us didn’t normally get assigned one. The only people that I knew who always had one on their person were Grey, Dusk, and Bella.

I knew I should have stolen Bella’s when I had the chance.

I turned my head back to look at my companions to see that they were all inspecting the distant figure as best as they could as well. “Does anyone have a high enough Perception to make out any detail?” I whispered hopefully. I was greeted by a round of head shaking at my question. I sighed. “Damn. I’m going to have to go down there, aren’t I?”

Wisp patted me on the back softly. “It’ll be fine,” She said soothingly, before thumbing the string of the bow slung over her back. “I’ll keep overwatch on you from up here.”

Crook nodded slightly as well, before turning to face Sylvia. “Whisper, when Hangman goes down there, we’ll circle around the meeting point. You go left, I’ll go right.” My partner nodded slightly at the command, her mask trailing away from the plaza to settle on me

I took a deep breath and then crept away from the edge of the building we were hiding on. Once I was out of sight, I stood up in order to jump down to street level to approach the shrouded figure. I was stopped, though, by the feeling of a hand grabbing my own. Turning around, I was surprised to see that Sylvia had followed me and tilted her mask up high enough to revealed her undisguised, Mithril face.

Before I could ask her what was wrong, her lips closed in on mine in a kiss. Her arms closed around my back.

A measure of tension escaped my body, as I wrapped my arms around her and returned the embrace. After a moment, we separated. Sylvia leaned her forehead against mine. “Be careful,” She murmured, only inches away.

I nodded slightly. “I will,” I promised her in a whisper. Over her shoulder I could see Wisp fake swooning as she started to set up a firing station, while Crook was standing not far from us and looking on in near disapproval.

I know it was inappropriate to be acting like this before a mission. But, well.

I didn’t care.

I separated from Sylvia, and then turned and jumped down into the alleyway below. Moments later, I heard Whisper and Crook follow behind me. But they didn’t follow, as I stepped in the darkness of the streets.

I raised the hood on my cloak, and started walking towards the garden plaza.

As I wandered into the shadowed greenery, it felt like there were a thousand eyes on me, spying from behind every branch and leaf. It could just be my paranoia acting up. It could just be my instincts as an Agent. I couldn’t know. All I could do was tamp down my fear with my middle ring, and keep walking.

From one moment to the next, I stepped out of the concealment of the garden and into the plaza where the figure, presumably Rhiannon, was waiting for me.

Across the stone of the court, they sat motionlessly on a wooden bench, their back turned my way. I watched them for a moment, unnerved. I didn’t realize why until I noticed they weren’t moving.

At all. I didn’t even see the rise and fall of steady breathing, coming from the figure.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

Something…something was wrong here. I could feel it in my gut.

For a moment, I was extremely tempted to turn around and just walk away. But…this could potentially be an unprecedented opportunity for the Division. If we gained an informant highly positioned in the Duke's court, who knew how much easier our operations in Elderwyck could be? It could save lives.

I tamped down on my fears and my instincts, and took a step forward into the plaza. I deliberately scuffed the stone with the bottom of my boot, making an audible noise.

That got a reaction. The hooded head of the figure turned slightly, but not fully around. They didn’t stand, either.

I kept walking until I was standing only a few feet away from the sitting figure. Still, nothing. My eyes narrowed, and then I started circling around the bench until I was standing before the seated figure. They…were definitely a woman, I could see that much. It was too dark to make out the color, but they had a dress on underneath their cloak, concealing a feminine figure.

But their head was lowered, casting their face in shadow. I couldn’t make it out.

After a moment where I stood in deepening silence, I broke it. “Rhiannon?” I asked warily, my voice echoing out across the stone of the plaza.

The figure stirred once more, and their cloaked head began to rise.

I could finally see their face.

Horror crawled down my back at the sight of it. If…you could even call it a face.

Because they didn’t have one.

In place of normal human facial features, this…person had a vast expanse of crawling, shifting, swirling darkness. It was as if a pool of undulating oil had grown to cover every inch of skin that this thing had for a face. Within the depths of that crude, I swear I could see the agonized faces of people moaning and crying, begging to be set free.

I…I…

What was this?

It couldn’t be a human.

And it certainly wasn’t Rhiannon.

As struck with horror as my surface, outer ring was at the sight, luckily my inner rings were less so. My hand sprang the handle of my concealed daggers at the small of my back. At the same time, I pulsed Sylvan Vigor to max strength and attempted to spring away from whatever the hell this thing was.

But it was too late.

As if from nowhere, a pool of undulating shadows appeared underneath me. From inside of it, dozens of inky black tentacles erupted and wrapped themselves around my body, restraining me.

I was trapped, but not enough that I couldn’t turn my head. The figure still seated on the bench before me hadn’t moved an inch in order to cast whatever Skill or Spell was holding me in place. I twisted my head to look behind me.

I cursed under my breath at what I found.

Standing behind me, having appeared silently as if from nowhere, were four cloaked figures similar to the one on the bench. Their bodies were fully concealed, while they each had the same disquieting effect obscuring their faces. One of them had their arm outstretched in my direction, their fingers outstretched in a claw position. A thick strand of nearly liquid darkness was connected between their palm and the pool at my feet.

The figure in front of me on the bench finally spoke. “Hans Schefel,” They said in a disturbing voice, sounding almost as if it had been synthesized. I could just barely make out a feminine note hidden within. “We have questions for you.”

They didn’t know my name, then. Only my cover.

I remained silent. This didn’t escape the notice of the figure. They finally stood up from the bench they’d been sitting at all this time, speaking again. “I advise you to coop-”

They didn’t get the chance to finish their sentence.

Because a glowing silver crescent of Ki erupted from the treeline of the plaza, and severed the strand of darkness holding me still. I had never let go of Sylvan Vigor, and so I immediately took the chance to spring towards the source of it. Sylvia stepped out of the tree line to my left as I touched down, her drawn short sword still glowing slightly from the attack she had freed me with. At the same time, Crook dropped down from the trees above us, to land in a three-point crouch to my left. She had already drawn her combat stave shaped like a shepherd's crook, and was holding it prepared behind her. I finally got the chance to draw my own weapons, getting into a defensive stance with both Oninite daggers.

Across the plaza from us, the group of shadowy figures had gathered together and were staring at us. The lead figure, the one who had been waiting on the bench, spoke first. “Nocturnes,” They said flatly. The cloaks of the figures shifted, almost as if they were reaching for weapons.

Crook straightened up from her crouch. “SED,” She nearly snarled in response, griping tightening on her stave. I tensed at the word.

Despite what I had thought after first sight of them, these people weren’t Monsters.

They were our counterparts among the Loyalists, instead.

The lead figure raised one arm to point a leather-clad finger at us. “Take them.”

The SED Agents sprang at us, fully drawing their weapons as they did.

We met them in their charge.

<<Chapter 181 | Table of Contents | Chapter 183>>

Chapter 181 - Unexpected Break

Before heading off to dinner with Renauld, we let him stop by a local bathhouse in order to freshen up. Hard days of battle and marching had left the Gnoll looking and smelling a bit…rank, to be honest. He was thankful for the chance, and after a quick wash, Sylvia and I led him to a local bistro that the two of us had taken a liking to. The owner of the bistro, one of the rare examples of a dwarf in Elderwyck by the name of Gaston, led us to the private booth we had been using lately.

Renauld nearly fell upon the ordered food with all the grace of a wild animal.

Nearly.

He retained just enough composure to not make a fool of himself. When we were all done, he sat back with a sigh, nodding at me. “Thanks for the meal, ‘Hans’,” Renauld said, satisfied and patting his furry belly. “I’ve had nothing but travel rations for days now.”

As Sylvia sedately spooned her soup to her lips with attentive eyes, I sat down my own knife and fork. I shook my head at Renauld. “No problem. And you don’t have to bother with fake names in here. Sylvia and I come here often enough that I set up a minor silencing ward. See?” I lifted the edge of the tablecloth just enough that Renauld could crane his snout under it. Set in the center of the table was a dense runic array, scribed tiny enough that it was hard to even make out among the whorls and rings of the wood.

Renauld raised his head and blinked at me. “Huh. Never seen anything like that before.”

I shrugged at him. “My own invention, inspired by an artifact I saw my boss use once. It’s only active for as long as the Aether I pumped into it lasts. But enough about that. How’ve you been? Last I saw, you were fleeing the Horde with the other Order soldiers.”

Renauld took a slow, deep breath. “It was…hard,” He admitted. “I don’t know about you guys, but the direction we went meant we had to brave the outskirts of the Horde. Those days before we reached the city might have been some of the tensest I’ve ever had. Slowly creeping forward so you don’t alert any monster groups ahead of us, all the while knowing way more were advancing just behind you…” He went blank for a moment, staring off into space. He eventually broke out of it, blinking slowly and shaking his head. The Gnoll Healer gave us a pained smile. “We didn’t always dodge them.”

Sylvia stopped eating at his words, reaching out to lay one disguised hand on top of Renaulds in comfort. He grit his sharp teeth for a moment, squeezing her hand back. It…almost looked like he was blinking back tears. Sylvia didn’t flinch at how hard it looked like he was clutching at her.

I…had noticed that the group of soldiers he had been traveling with looked smaller. They must have lost a few people to the Horde.

I didn’t ask. It wasn’t my place.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” I said quietly, reaching out to grab his other free hand and squeezing. The Gnoll shuddered for a moment, before nodding jerkily and withdrawing his hands to rest on his lap. I took the hint, and changed the subject. “So, what were you out doing with the others?”

Renauld grabbed the verbal lifeline almost desperately. “Oh, nothing too bad,” He said with forced cheerfulness. “I looked worse than it actually was. We were contracted by some noble on a scouting mission for the Duke. They have all kinds of teams out there right now, keeping an eye on the fringes of the Horde to see if it’s moving in this direction. It’s not, by the way,” He told us, which was honestly relieving to a degree. “Most of the monsters our group ended up fighting seemed like normal spawns for the area. From what we could tell, nearly everything created from the Breaks is moving north. It’s almost like they’re being drawn somewhere like a moth to a flame.”

Sylvia and I exchanged a look at that but stayed quiet. As much as I liked Renauld, he wasn’t actually a formal member of the Order, only the Healing Corp of the Uprising. The Order had only accepted his presence on this mission because you never turned down willing Healers. He wasn't exactly trained in espionage.

Actually, now that I think about it, he was kind of a mercenary. The group that he had formed from the Order members might not be as much of a cover for him as I had thought it was.

The point was, I’m not sure if Hook would be fine with us telling him that the Order was deliberately drawing the attention of the Horde and culling them up at Helstein. Since Hook had set up the portable messaging station for us to use in our safehouses, we’d been getting nearly daily updates on the situation from Headquarters. According to them, Grey, Honoka, The Order, and the overall Army of the Uprising were making good time on thinning out the Horde as they trickled in. They had told us that they’d done enough now that there were even discussions among the leadership about resuming the campaign against Elderwyck, sometime in the next few weeks.

Our look didn’t escape Renaulds's notice, but thankfully he didn’t take any offense. “Oooh, I get it,” He said with a knowing wink and a grin. He mimed zipping his lips. “Order stuff, huh. Well…other than that, we didn’t encounter much out there. I can say that it wasn’t fun getting stuck out in the first snow of the year, though. Brrrr.” He shivered dramatically, his earlier distress seemingly having vanished.

That was something I had noticed about Renauld. He was the kind of guy that seemed to bounce back quickly.

That, or he was hiding his pain.

I made an understanding noise. “Is that all, then?” I asked him idly, picking my fork back up and cutting into my venison steak. “I think we might have been in the city longer than you at this point. You haven’t heard about anything else going on in the city, or about the Loyalists?”

Renauld shrugged, idly toying with his fork. “No, not really. Although I have noticed that the guards and soldiers are more on edge since last time we were here. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that…would you?” He asked semi-teasingly, as if he hadn’t been there when Hook had announced our plans back in that forest clearing.

I just rolled my eyes at him, while Sylvia smiled as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

Wait.

Would it? Nevermind.

I focused on Renauld while my middle ring was uselessly contemplating my girlfriend's lack of significant body temperature.

“But you’re right, none of us in the Band of the Eagle have heard much,” Renauld continued. “We’ve pretty much just been dealing with the guards, and accepting contracts from them on behalf of a bunch of noble houses. We haven’t turned this one in, yet. Our leader said we’ll meet back up tomorrow to collect the pay for this job. I think our latest one came from some guys called…House Steinham or something?”

I dropped my work onto my plate with a tinkling sound in shock, while Sylvia blinked rapidly at the increasingly confused-looking Gnoll.

“Is something wrong?” Renauld asked hesitantly, looking between Sylvia and I.

Sylvia briefly ignored him, instead looking at me. “Nathan, isn’t that…?” She trailed off. My partner was more than caught up on the entire Rhiannon thing at this point. I’d told her everything about the odd encounter with the equally bizarre Calonawr noble.

Including the noble House that she was supposed to be part of.

I nodded wordlessly at her question, focusing on Renauld and leaning forward. “When you were given this job, was a noblewoman there?” I asked him sharply.

The Healer was visibly taken aback by my tone, but did his best to answer. “Uh…no. It was just the same guard Captain that my group has been dealing with,” He said, audibly confused. “Why? Is she one of the bad guys? Because I can get my group to stop dealing with them if they are.”

I frowned, not at Renauld, but at the world in general. “No…maybe,” I amended. “We don’t know. What we do know is that the sole remaining member of House Steinham has information we want, and she’s being catty about it after approaching me. None of us have found a viable way to contact the woman, and I’ve been stuck waiting for her to contact me again. Hell, we don’t even know where she lives. She apparently sold the Steinham estate some years ago. Our best guess is that she just lives in the palace at the pleasure of the Duke.”

“Pleasure?” Renauld blinked. “Is…she one of his mistresses? Cause I’ve heard that guy nearly has a harem.”

I scowled, frustrated, but it was Sylvia who answered for me. “We don’t know,” She said, raising her hands helplessly. “The answer to that is a maybe. Lady Marjory Oslen was known to be harshly critical of her husband's philandering ways, but she hasn’t been seen in some time now.”

“It’s entirely possible that the woman is dead, and Olsen has been living it up in his palace, surrounded by a pack of gold diggers,” I said, drumming my fingers on the table. “Excuse me. The proper term is apparently ‘Ladies of the Court’, which this woman introduced herself as.”

“Spicy,” Renauld said appreciatively. He held up his hands in surrender, though, when Sylvia sent him a sharp look. “But seriously. What do you want from me about it, Nate? I don’t know how much I can help. We’re just one small group of contractors. We never really deal with any of the nobs.”

I paused my drumming when an idea occurred to me. I leaned in close to Sylvia to whisper my off-the-cuff plan into her ear. When I was done, she cupped her chin for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yes…it could work,” She said thoughtfully, before smiling at me. “Go for it, I say. I doubt Hook will have a problem.”

Turning back to Renauld, I leaned back in and gestured him forward. As he joined me in the middle of the table, I grinned at him mischievously. “How do you feel about doing me a favor?”

Renauld’s confusion melted away, causing him to meet my grin with one of his own. “Hells, I’m down. What do you need?”

………………………………………

It was around noon the next day, and I was just finishing up another batch of potions for Jason. After detailing my plan to Renauld, Sylvia and I had left to go inform Hook of the unexpected boon in our efforts to understand ‘Rhiannon of House Steinham’, as she was known to Elderwyck.

Sylvia had been right, and he’d greenlit the spontaneous plan almost absentmindedly. I’m barely sure the dwarf had even noticed me dropping by after dinner last night. More and more, he was starting to get obsessed with his own operations. While he seemed to be juggling both leading the Division efforts in Elderwyck and whatever he was doing well, it was clearly taking a mental toll on him.

I could only trust that he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew.

Not like I could do anything about it.

I pushed those thoughts aside since it was time for me to hang up my apron for the day. I exited my little brewing station, waving goodbye to a morose-looking Jason on my way out. The shopkeep had been a bit down ever since the raid yesterday, and had been jumping at shadows as if a saboteur was going to pop out of them.

I could assure you, Jason. We weren’t.

Eh, he’d get over it.

Outside, I found a pleasant, but semi-expected surprise waiting for me. I’d told Renauld where he could find me during the daytime, and here he was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The Gnoll was looking better after a good night's rest, and was dressed in a much cleaner set of Healer’s robes. The staff that he had picked up all the way back in Sacnthaven was resting on the wall next to him.

At the sight of me, Renauld brightened and shoved off the wall. He spoke before I could get a word in. “It worked,” He said abruptly, smiling at me. “I passed your message along through the Captain. The man was really surprised we knew about this ‘Rhiannon’ lady, but after a brief wait, we got a message back from her. Here.” He handed me a small folded piece of parchment.

I sighed in relief that the gambit had worked. I hadn’t been sure this guard Captain had a line of communication with Rhiannon, but it was a better bet than just waiting around on her. Unfolding the parchment, I beheld a time and location.

She wanted to meet.

<<Chapter 180 | Table of Contents | Chapter 182>>

Chapter 180 - Weaponry & Returns

Things were changing in Elderwyck.

For both the city, and us.

The General in charge of the Loyalist forces in the city had wised up to the fact that his soldiers were being targeted. At this point in time, our intelligence told us that he wasn’t quite sure who was committing the attacks on his men, but honestly? It wouldn’t be long.

It’s not like there were any other large factions that the Kingdom of Herztal was currently at war with.

In response to the sabotage and attacks, General Atticus Longstripe of the Loyalist forces had changed tactics. The guard forces of Elderwyck were still being reinforced by Herztalian soldiers, but they weren’t essentially working on a buddy system anymore. No, they were moving in squads now. It wasn’t uncommon to see groups of five or more paranoid Loyalist soldiers stalking down the streets of Elderwyck at all hours of the day, led by exasperated guards. They weren’t even bothering with being unobtrusive anymore.

It really felt like the entire garrison was being emptied to increase patrols. It seemed every single street in the city had soldiers stalking down it, watching everyone they could. But that wasn’t the only thing they were doing. No, these roving groups of soldiers had started doing door to door searches. Duke Olsen had given General Longstripe carte blanche to bust down as many doors as he wanted, in the search for whoever was operating against him within the walls of Elderwyck.

As you can imagine, this wasn’t exactly sitting well with the citizenry of the city. In their search for us, the soldiers had started harassing people we had nothing to do with. More than one door had been outright broken down by overzealous squads, disrupting the business of innocent shop owners.

I’d actually seen one of these firsthand.

Earlier today, one of these search squads had barged into a distressed Jason’s shop and started asking the shopkeeper pointed questions. They’d dragged me out of my little brewing closet and forcibly sat me down next to Jason in the same back room I’d spoken to Rhiannon in. I hadn’t resisted, of course. My cover here was just too valuable and airtight to risk in a pointless confrontation with the guards and their Loyalist minders.

The squad had rifled through the crates, storage, and shelves of the shop, obviously finding nothing. I don't even know what they were looking for. I was careful not to store anything here that could implicate me in the campaign against the Loyalists in Elderwyck. The only thing that had been on me had been one of my daggers, which was easy enough to explain.

After all, it was just a hand me down from my old grandad to protect myself. He’d been an adventurer, you see, and had owned pretty sweet weapons in his time. You could never be too careful out on the streets these days, you know, and say? Would you boys like a free sample from our new line of stamina potions? I’m sure it’s tiring work searching for those nasty saboteurs. You could use a pick me up!

Hah.

Turned out, soldiers and guards were pretty easy to bribe. I guess the stereotype existed for a reason.

After that, we hadn’t gotten any trouble from the guards or the Loyalists. On the contrary, we’d gotten some new customers.

The problem for the Loyalists, though, was that we knew they were doing these searches. And while they might catch us if we were off guard, it’s not like we weren’t watching for them or had ways to know they were coming. Turns out, there were a good amount of malcontents in the guard force that weren’t too happy about the state of things. When approached in a circumspect manner, they’d agreed to being paid for the trouble of dropping off information at certain locations regularly. This had come in handy pretty quickly. We’d had to abandon the butcher’s shop in a hurry after one of our informants had told us that it was due to be searched. By the time that Loyalist squad had showed up at Fred’s door, we’d already cleared out and left no trace behind.

Currently, our Elderwyckian base of operations was holed up in the basement of an old fishing warehouse. My understanding was that it was currently abandoned, ever since the previous owner had been killed in a monster attack out at sea. But this wasn’t even our only active safehouse in the city. It was just our most used one, right now.

It sure was a nice, conveniant dockside spot for Bella to drop off supplies for us though. Those had been coming in handy, recently, I can tell you that.

God was the smell in here horrendous. The scent of years of rotting fish guts didn’t just wash away, no matter how much you scrubbed. Believe me, I’d tried. Hell, not even scouring the walls with Aetherial Melding had worked to dispel the fishy scent down here. I had no idea what that was about.

I’d had plenty of time recently to burn the scent of years old fish into my nostrils lately. After Rhiannon’s little stunt, I’d been pulled from the duty roster to wait for more contact from the mysterious woman. It’d been three days now, and I hadn’t heard a word from her. It was a bit odd, considering how she apparently had access to a courier service. But so far, nothing.

In the meantime, I’d taken Hook’s advice to resume my training. The spymaster himself was too busy to help me with it, so I’d taken to badgering whatever Agent checked in, to get some weapon practice done. I hadn’t forgotten Hook’s advice those weeks ago to aim for the General Weapons Proficiency Talent. I just hadn’t had the time to devote to pursuing it.

After some consideration, I’d settled on the seven weapons that I was going to shoot for that would contribute to the Talent fusion. Those being Spear, Knife, Longsword, Short Bow, Long Bow, Throwing, and Stave. My original two had been Spear and Knife Proficiency, which I had maxed out just through regular usage. In the short amount of time that I’d gotten structured training after joining the Division, and before shit had hit the fan, I’d picked up Longsword and Short Bow Proficiency. Both of which were still only at level one. I just wasn’t really comfortable enough with those weapons yet, to be out using them in the field.

But now that I had a bit of downtime to dedicate to training, I’d decided to at least pick up the last three I’d decided on. That being Longsword, Throwing, and Stave. Since two of those were ranged weapons and could be reasonably practiced on my own with only a little bit of instruction, I was currently bugging other Agents to spar with me using a spare stave we’d had lying about.

It was going about as well as expected.

I’d discovered that Crook, the outspoken Agent from the other day, was actually fairly experienced in using the weapon and asked for a few pointers from her.

I was questioning that decision now.

I grunted, blocking an overhead blow from the nimble woman. I had to rapidly shift my length of wood to block a sweep from the bottom half of Crook’s own stave moments later, as she tried to take my legs out from under me. The Agent was so skilled and so quick in using this type of weapon, though, that even that was feint from her next move.

I wasn't prepared for her to use the actual crook that she had at the top of her personal weapon to yank mine out of my hands. Moments later, I was knocked off my feet from a hard hit to the center of my chest.

Blinking, I stared up at the ceiling of the warehouse. This might just have been the tenth time Crook had disarmed and laid me out.

I groaned, covering my eyes with my hand.

The light from the evening sun shining through the high windows of the warehouse was shadowed over me. Removing my hand, I found Crook standing over me leaning on her combat stave.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a spear user?” She asked doubtfully. “Shouldn’t you be more used to handling a long weapon by now?”

I took a deep breath and leveraged myself back upright. “Ah…sort of,” I said tiredly. We’d been going at this for some time now, and I was starting to get worn out. “What I use is really more of a combination weapon.”

“Combination weapon,” Crook said flatly. She shook her head. “Whatever. I think that’s enough for now. Since it’s not that hard to pick up a Proficiency, you should have gotten it by now.”

Probably. I hadn’t checked my Status since we’d started sparring.

I did so now, focusing on Hidden Amidst the Spheres.

You have gained the General Talent, Stave Proficiency!

Stave Proficiency has reached level 1!

Acting has reached level 6!

Yup, there it was. Number six out of the seven weapon Proficiencies that I needed to max, in order to fuse General Weapon Proficiency. A bit odd that I’d picked up another level in Acting, though. I didn’t think I’d been doing anything during this practice that would contribute to that Talent. But, this was the first time I’d checked my Status today, and that raid on Jason’s store had been this morning before I’d finished my shift. I’m betting the level had come from that. I was curious, though. I hadn’t checked my whole Talents in some time.

Shuffling past my main Status screen, I pulled up the Talent pane.

General Talents

Acting Lvl. 6

Dual Wielding Lvl. 3

Knife Proficiency Lvl. 7 (Max)

Longsword Proficiency Lvl. 1

Short Bow Proficiency Lvl. 1

Spear Proficiency Lv. 7 (Max)

Stealth Lvl. 7 (Max)

Stave Proficiency Lvl. 1

Throwing Proficiency Lvl. 1

Tracking Lvl. 4

Class Talents

Leafwhisper Step (Uncommon)

Lifeblood Sense (Superior)

Ringed Mind (Rare)

Coming along just fine, if I say so myself.

I refocused back on Crook and inclined my masked head to her. We weren’t always required to be masked inside our safehouses, but most people had been opting for it ever since the raids had started. You never knew when you were going to need to clear out in a hurry. “Yeah, that did it. I got the Talent. Thanks, Crook.”

The other Agent made an acknowledging sound, her weapon disappearing…somewhere. Probably a storage or concealment Skill of some kind. “It’s fine. But, if you want to be using a stave in combat, you’re going to need quite a bit more practice.”

I snorted. “You’re telling me. I’ll see you later.” I said to the woman, my eyes drifting to the sky beyond the high windows.

“Have somewhere to be?” Crook asked idly.

I smiled slightly behind my mask. “Yeah, actually. I heard a friend is getting back into town today. I’m going to go find him with someone else.”

I’d be interested to see how he’d been doing, since setting up shop in Elderwyck. After all, Healers were in high demand these days.

……………………………………..

After picking up Sylvia from her shift at the stationary store, the two of us navigated our way toward the main gate of the city. There, we found it to be mostly abandoned. After all, there wasn’t much overland commerce making its way into the city these days, and it’s not like the guards were keen to let in a bunch of refugees from the Stacks.

That made it extremely easy to see the few people that were in the plaza just past the gates.

Such as a returning merc band being debriefed by the guards there. Including one familiar Gnoll, dressed in dirt and blood stained Healers robes.

Renauld.

One of the first things I’d done when I had originally gotten inside the walls of Elderwyck had been to ask around about the Gnoll. It wasn’t even suspicious, as plenty of other recent entrants into the city were known to inquire after friends and loved ones who might have gotten inside to the safety of the walls. What I’d learned was that the Gnoll and the band of Order soldiers had made it to Elderwyck in one piece about a week before we had, and then cajoled their way inside. This had been before the situation out in the Stacks had gotten so bad that the Guard was ordered to bar all further entrance. Once here, the group had registered as an adventuring mercenary group with the city and started to take commissions. We’d only missed the group by a few days, as shortly before we’d gotten in through the catacombs, they’d departed beyond the walls on a job.

But now they were back.

He looked exhausted, I noticed. Renauld’s normally pristine black and white fur was matted with sweat, while the Gnoll himself was nearly drooping in place. I hadn’t managed to find out what the job he’d taken had been, but it must have been a rough one.

For a moment I debated leaving him be to recover. I could always find him tomorrow. But that choice was taken when Renauld noticed me and the disguised Sylvia standing off to the side and watching him.

He immediately perked up, recognizing me. I wasn't really very disguised, after all. He nudged one of the other undercover Order members and pointed my way. The man looked at me and raised an eyebrow in surprise. They had a brief exchange of words before Renauld started walking over to me. I met the other man’s eyes over top of the approaching Gnoll’s head.

He nodded at me in acknowledgment. I returned it, before focusing back on Renauld.

He grinned at me as he got closer. “You made it!” He said in a tired, yet cheerful tone. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

I returned the smile. “Oh, it took us longer than you,” I said, aware that our reunion had drawn the attention of the guards, now watching us curiously. “But the two of us made it in one piece.” I gestured to Sylvia and I, causing Renauld to look at her curiously. After a moment, understanding hit him and he grinned at her as well.

Sylvia winked one human eye at the Gnoll.

I wasn’t sure what to call him. But, if it had worked once, it would work again.

I drew the surprised Gnoll into a hug, which he returned awkwardly. “Hans and Cynthia,” I said quietly, into his furry ear.

He got the idea. “Louis,” He whispered into my own.

I drew back. “Why don’t we all go catch up over dinner, Louis? I’m sure we both have some stories to tell the other.”

“Sounds good to me,” He replied easily. “I already told my Captain I’d be busy for the rest of the night.” He met my eyes. “And sure. I have some ‘stories’ to tell.”

“I’m sure you’ll find them interesting.”

<<Chapter 179 | Table of Contents | Chapter 181>>

Chapter 179 - The Gift

I tried to put the odd encounter with Bleddyn’s cousin out of my mind during my shift at Jason’s. Thanks to the nature of Ringed Mind, it was pathetically easy for me to nearly auto-pilot the process of making low grade potions for the shop while my middle and core rings dwelled on it.

Rhiannon had called herself a ‘lady of the court’. In context with Herztalian high society I had…absolutely no idea what that meant. I hadn’t had much of any kind of social contact with the upper echelons of the Kingdoms, outside of strictly military affairs. The most interaction I’d had with them had been serving some tea during meetings I attended with Grey.

Outside of my little disagreement/confrontation with the Prince.

The point being, I didn’t have much experience in navigating the noble waters, so to speak. What was a woman who was the next best thing to being Mynydd Clans nobility even doing here? My understanding was that the Clans mostly kept to themselves, disdaining larger contact with the Kingdom as a whole. They may nominally bow their heads to the crown, but both polities seemed to exist in a ‘live and let live’ state of being.

I’d have to ask around, I suppose.

But for now, I was done. I’d churned out the potions Jason needed to stock the shelves with, so it was time to clock out. I hung my apron up on the hook of my little brewing space next to the door, and stepped out. On the other side, Jason was just finishing up with another customer, lit by the afternoon light streaming in through the front windows.

As I shuffled around him, Jason looked up at me. “Ah. Hans, w-wait a moment!” He stuttered.

I stopped in the middle of shrugging on my jacket, previously hung on a coat rack near the counter. “What’s up, Jason?”

The shopkeep bent down and dug around underneath his counter for a moment, eventually producing a fairly long scroll of parchment. “Your friend from e-earlier had a courier drop something o-off for you, Hans,” He told me, holding the scroll out to me with a mildly envious look on his face. “I had no i-idea you had friends in the nobility, Hans. I’m j-jealous.”

I stared at the outstretched scroll for a moment as if it was about to reach out and bite me. Gingerly, I reached out and accepted the roll from him. “I didn’t know that either,” I muttered to myself, before forcing a smile on my face at Jason’s curious look. “Ah, thanks for holding onto it, Jason. I forgot she was going to drop that off for me.” I paused, for a moment, a healthy sense of paranoia rolling over me. “Do you mind if I use the backroom to look it over?”

Jason waved me off as another customer entered the shop, absentmindedly sliding me the key. With muttered thanks, I used it to walk over to the backroom and let myself in, setting the scroll on the same table I’d spoken to Rhiannon over earlier.

I eyed the scroll as if it was an active bomb when I did so.

Because for all I knew, it could be.

Something I’d learned during my lessons as an Agent, was that it was very risky to just trust random messages like this. Runecraft was such a broad field that you could inscribe damn near anything you could think of onto parchment, and set it to activate at all kinds of triggers. Inside this scroll could be anything from a tracking script, to a sequence set to explode at opening, or even stored poison gas. If I had just brought this into our Elderwyckian safehouse like my first instinct had been to do, Hook would have probably chewed me out in front of everyone and put me on message duty like he had poor Jangle.

I mean, how was the guy supposed to know that the ‘super important documents’ he stole were really just a collection of bad love poetry?

Anyway, the point was, I needed to check this out before it left the shop. I didn’t dare bring it to either the flat Sylvia and I were sharing, or to the safehouse first.

I took a deep breath, nodded to no-one in particular, and approached the table.

I drew my concealed dagger and used it to cut the ribbon holding the scroll closed, cringing away and closing my eyes as I did so.

Nothing happened.

Cracking open my eyes, I let out a sigh of relief. Leaning over, I took a look at what the strange woman from earlier had left me.

At first, I didn’t understand what was on the parchment. But…once I did?

I nearly choked on my own spit.

There sure as hell weren’t any traps on this.

Pounding my chest and coughing, I rapidly rolled it back up and scooped it into my arms. Dashing out the door and tossing the key back on the desk as I passed a puzzled Jason, my thoughts raced along with me as I made my way to the safehouse.

Hook needed to see this.

………………………………….

“Who, exactly, did you say gave you this?” Hook said, a note of astonishment coloring his voice. He and I, along with all of the other Agents down here in the safehouse, were gathered around the central planning table down here. All of us were staring down at the unrolled parchment I’d spread out on it in astonishment.

Because, on the scroll, meticulously detailed and intricately sketched….

Were the full blueprints to Duke Olsen’s palatial estate.

Not only did the large scroll detail the entirety of the palace itself, but the apparent sublevels of it as well. Hell, it also had a complete sketch of every inch of the enormous grounds that the complex rested on.

My God, there was even a full runic breakdown of the ward scheme, complete with the local of the Ward Stone’s location!

This was…

“How the hell does anyone have access to this?” Wisp asked in amazement, craning her head over the table to stare at one of the rooms. “Aren’t there rumors about these plans?”

“Yes,” Hook said absentmindedly, not tearing his eyes off of the scroll. “That they’re not supposed to exist anymore. The current palace is new, as the old one was donated to the city guard to use as a headquarters on his Ducal ascension. Olsen wanted to almost completely eliminate any trace of the old ruling house when he duped Marjory Olsen into marrying him. Thus, he hired some of the best architects and Ward crafters in the realm to design and build his new palace. And then, once they had finished?”

“He had them, and their entire crews, all executed.”

That was shocking enough to drag my eyes away from the plans, to stare at Hook in horror. The dwarf nodded grimly. “Oh, he concocted some story about them trying to rob him afterward, but everyone knew what was really going on. He was trying to make sure nobody who had anything to do with the construction could ever speak about what they did. Either that, or he didn’t want to pay for the work. And he got away with it, too. Oh sure, there was unrest about the baseless executions, and he even received royal censure because of it. But he weathered the storm, and came out with a firmer position afterward.”

The room was silent for a moment. I don’t know about everyone else, but I was thinking about just how many people Olsen must have needed to kill, in order to silence the entire palatial work crew. It had to be hundreds and hundreds, considering the sheer size of the estate.

One of the other Agents, a woman who went by the codename Crook, broke the silence. “I had family on that crew,” She said quietly, staring down at the plans. “We didn’t receive any compensation for the work my cousin Taylor did. The officials said that his wages were being withheld as damages claimed by the Duke, to pay for the ‘crime’ that he committed,” She was silent for a moment, before her black, star-dotted mask tilted up to stare at Hook. “This is it, isn’t it Hook? You promised me when I joined up that we’d take out Olsen one day. This is how we’re going to do it…right?”

Hook met her eyes through both of their masks. “Yes…but not now,” He said grimly. “Olsen is the last head that will roll before we’re through. We’ve barely even begun, and so he gets to live a bit longer. But…it’s going to happen, before we’re done with this city. One way, or the other.”

Crook was silent for a moment, standing perfectly still. But eventually, the woman nodded ever so slightly, and then left the basement without another word on silent, padded feet.

We stood around for a moment before I cleared my throat awkwardly. Everyone around the table looked at me. “Do we know anything about this Rhiannon woman? Perhaps how she could have possibly gotten her hands on plans that don’t even exist anymore?”

Hook tilted his head in thought for a moment before crossing his arms. “Not off the top of my head,” He finally admitted, before abruptly spinning on his heel. “But maybe we have a profile on her back at HQ. The rest of you, clear out. This is a facet of the operation that’s going to be overseen by Hangman and I,” Before he sat down in front of the messaging station he had set up with his prototype two-way communication coin, our commander looked over his shoulder and glared at the gathered Agents. “Get going. I know you all have better things to be doing than standing around and snooping.”

They got the hint. Soon, it was only Hook and I down in the basement.

I could only stand around awkwardly as the leader of the Nocturne Division started rapidly tapping his coin on alternating faces. When he was done, the coin held suspended in midair by wire began to spin back and forth, being directed from hundreds of miles away by a messenger back at our Helstein base of operations. Hook observed it intensely, translating the rough language by scribbling frantically on a piece of parchment set up in front of the station. When the coin was finished spinning, he sat back with a sigh and reached up under his mask to rub his eyes tiredly.

I had to wonder, if I was worn out from the all-nighters I’d been pulling….

How tired was Hook?

He stood up from the desk and turned to face me, before pausing. “What the hells are you doing just standing around?” He said, baffled. He waved an irritated hand at his cluttered desk, and the lone chair sitting in front of it. “Sit down, you moron.”

I flushed slightly at the mild rebuke, but did as he asked, while the dwarf himself plopped into his own chair. “Now, this is what we have on one ‘Rhiannon of Clan Calonawr,” He started, picking up the parchment and reading from it. “Born in the year twenty-three forty-two, she should be around twenty-nine by now. Birth parents are Archmage Daffyd of Clan Calonawr, and a minor Elderwyckian noble daughter by the name of Vivian of House Steinham. The House objected to the union between Vivian and Daffyd on the basis that the Mynydd Clans are all godless savages, and thus cut her off. Unfortunately, in a fairly rare occurrence, the mother would die in childbirth, leaving Daffyd to raise the child with only support from the rest of his family. Hmm,” He made an interested noise at what he read next.

“What is it?” I asked him curiously.

“According to our profile, she was the original heir of Clan Thunderheart, before the birth of your friend Bleddyn,” Hook said. “However, when the boy was born about five years after her, the title was stripped from the then toddler. We don’t know why. Moving on, once the girl came of age and was Awakened, House Steinham was suddenly interested again. They approached Archmage Daffyd, and told him they could give the girl a better life here in Elderwyck. For some reason, Daffyd agreed, and surrendered custody of the girl to her maternal grandparents. Now, if you say Daffyd and the girl still have contact, that’s news to us. Because the only other thing we have on her after that is that she’s supposed to have died.”

I blinked at that. “Hook, I can promise you,” I said flatly. “She’s very much alive.”

“Yes, I know,” Hook said, irritated. “Let me finish. It says she died only briefly, in an accident up at the palace when she was in her early twenties. What it was, we don’t know. All we do know is that it caused a bit of a minor scandal when it happened. But she was successfully revived by the palace Healer, and ever since then, she’s enjoyed a position of minor influence as an advisor in Olsen’s court. No spouse, no children, and the rest of House Steinham is dead by now. She seems to be entirely isolated, with only her position to occupy her time. Hangman…” Hook trailed off, raising his head to look at me. “I don’t have to tell you that this is all damn suspicious. But…”

“It’s too good of a source of potential information to just let slide,” I finished for him, crossing my arms. “And it seems like she’s latched on to me for…some reason. I don’t buy that she’s interested in me only because I rescued the cousin who stole the Clan from her.”

“Yes, it’s likely a cover,” Hook agreed. “The woman might even be SED, for all we know. But for now, we, and more importantly you, need to play along. Hangman, if she contacts you again, do your best to cultivate this woman as an informant. Maybe we can get more out of her. In the meantime, I’ll suspend most of your usual missions while we look into this. Feel free to pick your training back up during this downtime. For now, you’re dismissed. But…be sure to watch your back.”

I nodded at my boss and stood up from my chair. It was about time for me to go and pick up Sylvia, anyway.

I’m sure she would be interested in all of this.

<<Chapter 178 | Table of Contents | Chapter 180>>

Chapter 178 - Rhiannon

AN: This is…

Well, a very important character. For a lot of reasons.

............................................

I didn’t know anyone named Rhiannon. And I had definitely never met this woman in my life, no matter what she said.

I would have remembered her.

If this woman wasn’t associated with the nobility in some way, I would eat my mask. She was gorgeous, in a dangerous kind of way. Impeccably dressed in silks and furs suited to the frozen, snow-covered streets, she was wearing a deep black and red gown that stood out quite a bit in the shabby confines of Jason’s shop. Long, pitch-black hair fell around her sharp, pale features in curls and ringlets. They framed her burgundy eyes, watching me with a patient amusement in the moments after she spoke.

She knew that she’d caught me off guard.

Was this woman with SED? Had I been made by a Loyalist spy?

Nobody in the Nocturne division had had any run-ins, combative or otherwise, with anyone in our counterparts among the Loyalists. This was the despite the fact that we’d been running all up and down these streets on our missions. You would think we’d get some kind of pushback from the group that was meant to rival us, but no. The assault on the safe house outside of the city was supposed to have been from them, according to Dusk. But nobody in the Division had seen hide or hair of anyone.

There had been some uneasy rumblings among the ground forces at this silence.

Was this the start of their counterattack? Was I their first target?

But…why approach me in this manner, if she was here for my head? The woman, this…‘Rhiannon’, hadn’t made an antagonistic move once since I’d entered the shop.

What the hell was this?

Time sped up, my overactive brain having slowed my perception from the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

Only moments had passed since she had spoken.

I laughed as convincingly as I could, fully stepping into the shop. “It’s been a long time,” I said, doing my best to smile at the woman. My eyes flickered up to meet Jason’s, who hadn’t noticed a thing wrong. I couldn't involve him in this. “Jason, do you mind if…Rhiannon and I catch up in the back room? I’ll get started on the potions when we’re done. I’m…” I paused for only a heartbeat. “Sure it won’t take long.”

One way, or the other.

Jason smiled at me obliviously. “S-sure, Hans! I don’t mind. And don’t worry about the b-brewing. We’ve still got q-quite the backlog to run through.” Having said that, he slid the key to the backroom of the shop across the counter to me.

Palming it, I turned back to face the woman, my friendly façade falling away. Eyeing the woman flatly for a moment, I jerked my head in a motion towards the door in the back, but didn’t move yet.

I didn’t want this woman behind me.

She took the hint, sliding off of her chair languidly to her full height. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but I was slightly disturbed to see that she was taller than I was. You didn’t often see human women that were over six feet tall like her.

“Thank you, Jason,” She said to the shopkeep kindly, who blushed at her regard. “Like Hans said…we won’t be long.” At that, she sauntered off to wait patiently for me in front of the door, while Jason tried to stutter out an answer. He didn’t manage it before she left his sight, causing him to slump slightly in place.

I patted him on the shoulder as I passed, keeping my eyes locked with ‘Rhiannon’ as I approached her. Making usre my posture slightly facing hers to try and minimize the risk, I cautiously unlocked the door. The strange woman slipped inside once the door had been opened, throwing me a smirk over her shoulder as she did. I stoically stepped in after her, making sure to close the door.

I locked it behind me.

Inside, ‘Rhiannon’ was bent over, inspecting the crates of ingredients that Jason had stocked here in the backrooms. She tsked. “Such poor materials to work with, ‘Hans’,” She said, almost teasingly. She stood up, shaking her head. “However do you make do…?” She trailed off, growing unnaturally still.

Because I had a dagger at her throat.

While she had been examining the boxes, I had slipped up behind her, drawing one of the concealed weapons I had on my person. The blue-black of my Oninite dagger glinted dangerously in the dim morning light streaming in through the back window.

I leaned up towards her ear. “Who are you?” I hissed. “What are you doing here?”

The life returned to Rhianon’s body, her muscles untensing now that she knew I wasn’t going to immediately slit her throat. Still, she didn’t test me by trying to get away.

I’m not sure what I would have done.

Instead, she surprised me.

She trailed one long, manicured finger along the length of the blade at her throat. She made an interested noise when she was finished. “Oninite,” She said in wonder. “My my, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a blade forged entirely from it. The metal is so notoriously difficult to work with. Wherever did you get it? Is it, perhaps, something of your own creation…Mr. Hart?”

I shook off the bafflement I’d felt at her fingering the dagger nearly pricking her carotid artery, and tensed up when she used my name.

She definitely knew my name.

I brought the dagger close enough to touch her skin. “Answer the question!” I barked, being careful not to let Jason hear us.

“There’s no need for this, Mr. Hart,” She said calmly. “I promise you, I’m not here to report you to the authorities. Instead, I’m here to thank you.”

“What?” I said in a baffled tone, momentarily letting my guard down in confusion.

That was all she needed.

Faster than I could react, in a way that I hadn’t experienced in months and months, ‘Rhiannon’ turned the tables on me. She slipped out of my arms, stealing my own dagger from my hands and sliding behind me. Before I knew what was even happening, I felt the very weapon I had forged with Aetherial Melding resting on my own throat.

I froze, not daring to turn my head. The woman leaned in to my ear, close enough that I could feel her breath on it.

I shuddered, my heart thundering in my chest.

“There…” She whispered in my ear. “Not so pleasant, now is it?” Abruptly, the blade withdrew, and I was shoved forward lightly. I stumbled forward from the unexpected blow, finding my feet moments later. I spun to face her, only to find the woman not even looking at me anymore.

Instead, she was contemplating my blade.

“Do you know,” She said suddenly, twisting the blade back and forth. “Where the name for this metal comes from? It’s from Kawamara. There’s a particular breed of Monster that spawns in that archipelago known as the Oni. They’re a tricky sort, the Oni, a true study in contrasts. When they’re young and weak, the Oni stalk the rice fields as little more than bothersome Goblinoid creatures. They ambush particularly unwary laborers and drag them into the shadows so they can feast on their blood and Aether, leaving behind little but dried-out husks. A nuisance to be sure, but only really a threat to the young and elderly. Now, when they’re older, and have their own semblance of intelligence? Then, they truly become a force to be reckoned with.”

I stayed silent as the odd woman lectured me about the metal of my dagger, of all things.

She flipped the blade until the point was balanced upon the tip of her finger. “At that point, they gain a staggeringly powerful control of lightning and thunder. Fulminokinesis, if you will,” She chuckled, slyly meeting my eyes. There was an intense look in her own. “It’s a near national emergency when that happens. There are dedicated Oni hunting squads that make sure this never come to pass. Once mature, though, they rage across the islands, striking everything within their sight and veritably gorging themselves on the Aether of the innocent. Oni, you see, are one of the rare few types of monster that automatically evolve into a Prime once powerful enough. They’re not bred for it. They’re born destined to power. How…curious, that you should have a weapon of this metal. I wonder, Mr. Hart. Are you an Oni, destined for greatness?”

I shook off the spell that this woman’s speech had put me under. I took a step forward and repeated my earlier question. “Lady, who are you? What are you doing here?”

‘Rhiannon’ smiled slyly at me, flipping the blade of my dagger once more. This time, the hilt was pointed in my direction. “Why, I’m the thunder to your shadow, Mr. Hart. Or rather, the Thunderheart.”

Wait, what?

She tittered at the gobsmacked expression on my face, before grabbing the hem of her dress and curtseying in a sweeping manner. “I, am Rhiannon of Clan Calonawr, daughter of Daffyd.”

Daffyd? Wasn’t that the name of Gruffyd’s brother, back in Tŵr Gronn?

That would make her…

“You’re Bleddyn’s cousin?!” I blurted out in astonishment, accepting my dagger back with a limp hand. As I slipped it back into its hidden sheathe, the woman straightened up and covered her mouth with one gloved hand. She tittered at me once more, nodding.

“I am indeed,” Rhiannon said playfully, a sly expression on her face. “I came here to thank you, for your service in freeing my foolish cousin.”

I looked around for a moment, as if I would find answers to the obvious questions plaguing me. “How do you even know about me? About that, even?” I paused, something else occurring to me. “How the hell did you find me?!”

Rhiannon lowered her hand, allowing me to see the amused smile on her crimson-painted lips. She inclined her head meaningfully at the nearby rickety table in this room, before gracefully sitting in an open chair. I…took the hint and sat down with her.

But I didn’t fully let down my guard. If this woman really was from the Thunderheart Clan, then she was supposedly an ally.

I didn’t have any way to verify her identity, though.

Rhiannon must have noticed my wariness, but didn’t let it stop her speaking. “To answer your questions in order, my father keeps a line of communication open with me, here in the big city,” She said easily. “As the Clan Archmage, he has access to his own methods of contact. Last week, he used those to inform me that dear Bleddyn was still alive, somewhere in the Principality. And leading a slave revolt, of all things! Shockingly different, for the man. I was beginning to think my cousin had no more ambition in him than inheriting the Clan. How glad I am, to see I was wrong.”

“And…” I said slowly, starting to see where this was going. “Daffyd must have told you about me, at the time.”

Rhiannon inclined her head. “Just so. He also informed me of how you were on some sort of mission for the Order of the Eclipsed Dawn. Not long after that, a very obvious campaign of destabilization began here in Elderwyck, a notable center of Loyalist power. It truly wasn’t difficult to put the pieces together from that, Mr. Hart. After that, all I needed to do was look around for a man matching the description my father sent me. I wished to convey my gratitude, you see.”

Something about her explanation didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what. It all sounded very plausible, I had to acknowledge.

Still…

“That’s a lot of effort to go through, just to thank me,” I frowned at her.

“It is my way, Mr. Hart,” She said, smiling enigmatically at me.

I frowned harder.

Rhiannon rolled her eyes and heaved a dramatic, put-upon sigh at my expression. “Oh, must you ruin my fun?” She groused. Shaking her head, she leaned forward. “The truth, then. I’m here because I want to assist you, you see.”

“Assist me,” I said flatly. “Is that so.”

A surprisingly excited smile stole across the woman’s impeccably primped face. “Just so, Mr. Hart. Just so. You see, I happen to be a lady of some influence in Duke Olsen’s court. I imagine it would be quite a coup for your forces if you gained an informant of my caliber, so close to the Duke’s center of influence. Why, I could even get you into the palace itself, if so needed!”

Uh-huh.

I see.

I think I was beginning to see what was going on here. This wasn’t the plot of some tricky SED agent here to take me out.

This was some noble lady that I had tenuous ties to trying to inject a bit of color into her dour life. I stood up from the table, my nerves more than settled by now. I smiled neutrally at the woman. “Thank you for your offer, Ms. Rhiannon,” I said, probably more politely than she deserved. “I’ll be sure to convey it to my superiors with all the respect it deserves.”

That is, little.

“In the meantime, I ask that you maintain secrecy about any possible operation you may or may not believe is underway. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to be getting to. I’ll see you out,” I said, gesturing towards the door.

Rhiannon slowly got to her feet, studying my face thoughtfully. “You don’t believe I can be of any help, do you,” She said, tapping one perfect finger against her lips. She stopped after a moment, pointing that finger at me. “I understand. I’d be wary too, in hindsight.” She said, walking towards the door and opening it. Before she left, however, she turned and winked one burgundy eye at me. “I’ll prove my worth to you, Mr. Spy. I know just the thing to change your mind. I’ll be seeing you again before long. I promise you that.” With those parting words, the woman slipped out the door, closing it behind her. Seconds later, I heard her say something in parting to Jason, and then the front door open and close.

I sighed, dragging an exhausted hand down my face.

Bleddyn, you never told me about how tiring your cousin could be.

Maybe that’s why, come to think of it.

<<Chapter 177 | Table of Contents | Chapter 179>>

Chapter 177 - Surprise Visit

I stood at attention in front of Hook’s desk in the main Nocturne Divisions safehouse here in Elderwyck as much as decorum demanded I did.

Which was, considering the average Agent, not very much.

We were essentially in a small sub-basement underneath a local business that had been converted for our needs. Hook may have told me awhile ago that the Division had safe houses set up all over the country for their use, but I’d discovered that not all of them were quite as impressive as the current HQ set up just outside of Helstein. In this particular case, we were using one that had been set up underneath a butcher’s shop. Naturally, none of our currently active Agents were using it as a cover of their own, in the same way I was using Jason’s Magical Brews.

Turns out, the saying ‘don’t shit where you eat’ was just as valid in Vereden.

Hook had mostly ignored the gold and jewels I’d brought in from Eisenhorn’s personal safe, only giving them a passing glance of disinterest before setting them aside. But he had been very interested in the documents I had procured.

Very interested indeed.

I’d been standing in front of his desk now for nearly ten minutes as the dwarven commander poured over the scrolls and parchment intently. The handful of other Agents that were down here in this little basement with us were trying not to seem like they were interested as well, but not very hard. I caught more than one of them ‘surreptitiously’ wandering behind our boss in order to get a brief look of their own.

Oh look, there Wisp went.

Again.

I couldn’t help but fix the middle-aged, brown-haired woman with a deadpan stare as she passed by. She just smirked her unmasked lips and shrugged slightly at me, before wandering over to join the huddle of other Agents.

None of which were either Dusk or Sylvia, I’d noticed. Dusk had already completed her mission before I’d come in, which had been expected. She hadn’t stuck around for any kind of socializing, which was something I was starting to suspect was common with her. Sylvia had as well, but my partner had decided to wait for me upstairs.

Well, if Hook was going to keep me waiting, I might as well get something out of this.

I called up my Status, to check if I’d gotten anything out of my nights work. I’d taken out that soldier early in the night, after all.

I clucked my tongue at what I found, drawing curious looks from the other Agents. Not Hook, though. He didn’t care and just kept looking at the documents I’d brought him.

Name: Nathaniel Eugene Hart

Titles: Unbound Liberator

Level: 84

Age: 24 Sol

Race: Human (Precursor)

Affinity: Terrestrial

Classes: Thornblade Acolyte (Uncommon)

Professions: Aetherial Melding

Health: 490/490

Stamina: 91/100

Vitality: 67

Strength: 50

Spirit: 10

Dexterity: 120

Perception: 64

Intelligence: 178

Wisdom: 178

Free Points: 100

Options: [Talent Page], [Skill Page], [Profession Page]

Nothing.

Currently, I was level eighty-four. Since I’d started operating within the walls of Elderwyck I’d gained three levels both from all the crafting I was doing, and the few targets of opportunity among the Loyalists I’d targeted. Mostly the crafting, I had to admit. I wasn’t going super murder crazy on taking out Loyalist soldiers, like some of the other Agents.

That was way, way less than I’d thought I would get, after our adventures in the catacombs that de facto belonged to Tlazo. I must have personally killed well over four dozen of those wild undead, but…

I had been highly irritated to discover that apparently, Undead didn’t grant any level Aether.

At all.

Zip, zilch, nada.

This was apparently one of the primary reasons people hated dealing with the walking corpses. They were both incredibly deadly in large numbers, and there was zero benefit to actually fighting and clearing them out. Even wild-spawned Undead didn’t provide any level progress, much less the purpose animated kinds created by Necromancers. According to what Tlazo had mentioned, they possessed something called ‘Death Aether’, but it didn’t seem like that was something that normal, living mortals could harness. Not like a Lich could ostensibly use.

I was broken out of my wandering thoughts by Hook looking up from his inspection and off to the side. “Stem,” He said, waving one of the other Agents forward. “Go and transmit this to HQ while I debrief Hangman,” He ordered, handing off the documents to the leaf-masked human. He nodded lazily, before sauntering over to the corner of the basement where we had set up a coin transmission station. Hook had donated his prototype two-way communication coin to make the apparatus work. Looking at it, I was reminded a little of an old timey telegram station from back on Earth.

“Anything interesting?” I asked Hook, once he was gone.

He tilted his head back and forth for a moment. “Plenty, I’d say. Some of it was expected, considering the profile of the target. Some of it…decidedly not so.”

I crossed my arms. “So, he did have dirt on Olsen?”

“Yes, yes,” Hook said, waving a hand disinterestedly. “Quite a bit of what you’d expect from these noble types. Illicit affairs, shady dealings, gold and expensive objects that mysteriously ‘vanish’ into the coffers of the already wealthy. Nothing I haven’t seen a million times before. Useful, but mundane for this type of work.”

“I’m almost disappointed,” Wisp said, wandering back up and blatantly butting in. She didn’t care about the irritated look Hook fixed her with, just smiling cheekily at our boss. “Olsen was supposed to be this mercantile mastermind, only it turns out he’s the same as the rest of them? How positively droll,” She said, in a mockingly posh voice.

“Don’t underestimate him,” Hook said, surprisingly sharply. Wisp and I were both visibly taken aback by the strength of his tone. “I said that only most of it was expected. There were hints of…something else in those papers that I need to consider further. Not only that, but I just can’t parse parts of this. Considering Olsen, I can’t be sure if they were false trails or not. He could just be using Eisenhorn to throw us off the scent. I…” He abruptly shook his head. “Out, all of you. The operations desk is closed for the night.” When everyone in the basement just stood around for a moment, shocked at the sudden dismissal, he actually growled at us. “Did you not hear me, Agents? I said get going!”

We all took the hint and started filing out of the basement, one by one. I shot a somewhat concerned look over my shoulder before the door closed behind me.

My last glimpse of Hook was of the dwarf bent over his desk and frantically scribbling something.

………………………………………

Sylvia was visibly startled at the sight of everyone in the basement but Hook filing out one by one. We weren’t leaving the butcher’s shop the same way, of course. We weren’t complete amateurs at this business. A decent contingent of the Agents were lingering in the backrooms while they waited for their turn to depart for their covers.

Sylvia and I left first, as we had an easy excuse to be doing so. “Night, Fred,” I murmured to the owner of the shop, still manning the counter after hours. The quiet, bald-headed man just nodded in acknowledgment to me, before returning to sharpening his knives.

The streets of Elderwyck were mostly barren at this time of night. It was so late at this point that it was almost morning. The only real activity that I spotted was the occasional shopkeep prepping for the start of business. I expected Tarus to start peeking over the horizon any minute at this point, signaling the start of the day with the green period. Normally, pulling an all-nighter like this wouldn’t be an issue for me, since I’d started getting up in levels. But I’d done a few of these in a row by now, and was feeling a bit burnt out. I was likely going to need to throw back one of my own stamina potions, when I clocked in at Jason’s.

Sylvia seemed to notice that something was bothering me, but didn’t say anything out in the open. After the night’s escapades, it appeared that the guards and the Loyalist soldiers supporting them were on edge. The two of us were stopped multiple times on the way back to the small flat we were cohabitating in, as part of our cover. Surprisingly, it had been easy to get it, with the resources and pull that the Division seemed to have in this city. Once we had stepped into the mostly barren, one-room domicile, and closed the door, Sylvia turned to me with an inquisitive look.

“What’s going on?” She asked me quietly, as the waning light of Elys streamed in through the window.

“I don’t know,” I said with a furrowed brow, before pausing. I fixed the disguised Sculpted woman at my side with a worried gaze. “Has Hook seemed…off to you?” At her curious look, I elaborated. “I mean, since we got into the city.”

Sylvia was quiet for a moment. “Perhaps a little,” She reluctantly admitted. “But I cannot pretend to know him very well. These weeks of traveling have been the longest amount of time I’ve spent in his company.”

I nodded slowly. “Something’s bothering him,” I said lowly. “And I think I can guess what. Do you remember what Tlazo said, just before we left?”

“Something about…there being more to the War than we thought?” Sylvia asked slowly.

“Right, that,” I nodded. “I think Hook took that very seriously, and is trying to figure out what the old bag of bones meant by it.”

“But, what can he possibly do about it now?” Sylvia said, baffled. “The warning was so cryptic that I cannot possibly guess by what it was referencing.”

“I…don’t know,” I said helplessly, reaching up to massage my forehead. I was already starting to feel the beginnings of an exhaustion headache coming on. I approached one of the few cabinets we had in the flat and pulled out one of my stamina potions. I slammed it back, and then turned to face my Sculpted partner.

I’d had a thought.

“Should we ask Dusk if she has an idea?”

Sylvia looked taken aback momentarily. I didn’t blame her for the reaction. The two of us didn’t actually see Dusk very often, since we’d started operating inside the walls. The Gnoll woman apparently had her own, super secret, super important mission that required her near full attention. Last night had been an exception when she had met up with us, and the first time I’d seen her in days.

“Possibly?” Sylvia said unsurely. “I’ve gotten the impression that Hook and Dusk know each other on a deeper level than commander and Agent. Not in an…” She paused for a moment, before continuing. “Inappropriate way, of course.”

“Right, yeah. More like…you and Grey,” I nodded.

Sylvia smiled slightly at the mention of her father, before it faded. “Yes, but Nathan? I’m not sure it’s any of our business,” She said bluntly. At my taken-aback expression, she approached and grabbed my leather-gloved golden hand, rubbing its knuckles. I’d noticed that she had a tendency to reach for that one, whenever she wanted to comfort me. “We’re…not that important, Nathan. Right now, we’re just two out of over a dozen different Agents in the city. Beyond anything about what and who we are, right now we have an obligation to focus solely on our orders. It’s not our job to try and solve every possible problem plaguing Hook. Yes, he’s probably troubled by Tlazo’s warning. But he’s the commander of the Nocturne Division for a reason. The Order trusts him to decipher the truths of such vagaries.”

She…was right. Sometimes, I got so caught up in the whole Precursor thing and made it out to be more than it was, in my head. I…occasionally had to fight thoughts about how I was a hero or some such nonsense, and it was my job to right all the wrongs around me.

But I wasn’t.

I was just some guy, embroiled in a war that I wasn’t really strong enough to meaningfully influence.

I took a deep breath and did my best to compartmentalize my worries. With Ringed Mind, I was probably better at that than most people. I nodded to show my understanding. “You’re right,” I said, doing my best to smile at her. The window caught my eye, as the light streaming through it had changed. It was green now, signaling the start of the day. “We need to get going,” I said to Sylvia. “Time for another day of gainful employment.”

Sylvia searched my expression for a moment, before nodding. She stood up on her toes for a moment, before brushing her lips on my stubbly cheeks in a brief kiss. I returned it, my lips ghosting over her disguised skin. Her illusion was thorough enough that it actually felt like flesh.

“Let’s go,” Sylvia said quietly, smiling and brushing a lock of false black hair behind her ear. “Perhaps we can have lunch together, later? I noticed a bistro that drew my attention.”

As we stepped back out of the small flat, I smiled at her. “Yeah, that sounds good. Later, then.” I told Sylvia, before we separated off to go to our covers.

Still, as she walked away, I realized that my feelings of unease hadn’t gone away. They were still floating around, in the back of my rings.

I tried to put it out of my minds as I neared Jason’s shop.

I was distracted enough that I didn’t notice there was someone in there with the owner before I stepped inside, even though the shop hadn’t opened yet.

A woman was sitting on the stool across from the squirrely little man. A very well-dressed, very out-of-place one. Jason looked from his conversation with her and perked up. “Ah! Hans!” He waved at me enthusiastically as I stopped in place. At the sight of the woman, a sense of unease crawled down my spine.

What was going on here? Jason was single. A serial bachelor, you could even say.

“Your f-friend here was just telling me some old s-stories, while we waited!” Jason said, with a surprisingly deep laugh from such a small man. “I don’t know where you two m-met, but Miss Rhiannon is a riot!”

Rhiannon?

Who the hell was Rhiannon?

The woman finally turned around to face me. She smiled, her deep burgundy eyes crinkling slightly. “Hello…Hans,” She nearly purred.

“How nice to see you again.”

<<Chapter 176 | Table of Contents | Chapter 178>>

Chapter 176 - Searching the Horizon

We each split up not long after, engaging our individual stealth Skills as we did so. This wasn’t a group mission, per se, despite our meeting up before starting.

We were all just acting in the same area for backup purposes. We each had our own objectives tonight.

Mine?

Well, I had something to retrieve.

Thorn Cloak may not have been intended for use within urban environments, but I’d notice that it did well enough. According to my companions, the effect was as if I was blending in slightly to the background, and they had to specifically focus on me in order to be noticed.

Besides, I had more than just an active Skill to rely on these days. I had my Talent’s, and my own well-practiced abilities in stealth and infiltration.

More than enough to fool city guards and Loyalist foot soldiers.

I watched from the shadows as one of the designated Elderwyckian city guards patrolled past my hiding spot, not ten feet away from me. I was crouched behind a tall stack of wooden crates a distance inside of the administration portion of the harbor district. This was the area where most of the ledgers and accounts were taken care of. It was a surprisingly large and gaudy complex that I had heard more than one dockworker complain about. A common gripe was, why did a bunch of middle managers need bespoke mahogany desks and gold fittings in order to review delivery manifests?

In particular, one Simon Longsmidt of Horizon Shipping from earlier in the day had a tendency to moan about them. That man had surprisingly loose lips, and was more than willing to bitch to anyone that would listen.

I’d gotten quite a bit of interesting info from the guy, over the last week.

The guard not far from me was well inside the distance I could strike from, but I stayed my hand. This wasn’t because I had any particular qualms anymore about eliminating enemy combatants, no. It was because the standing orders for Nocturne Agents operating inside Elderwyck were to stay your hand with the guards.

There had been a big meeting about it and everything.

Hook had told us the goal wasn’t to completely destabilize the city itself. Our mission was to cripple and bring down the Loyalist infrastructure from the inside, through acts of sabotage and even assassination. There was to be a clear delineation for our purposes between acceptable targets for discrete disposal. The city guards of Elderwyck were, by and large, recruited from the citizenry of the actual city. While they may have been placed under the command of the local Loyalist commander, we were deliberately not targeting them.

We didn’t want to turn the city itself against us, by killing their sons and daughters.

But the Loyalist soldiers themselves…

Well.

Hook had outright told us to take any chance we could, as long as it didn’t compromise or place us in danger.

And by and large, my fellow Agents were following that order.

This hadn’t gone unnoticed, by either faction.

It was quite clear to see the different reactions between them. While most of the city guards I had seen over the last few days were wary, they weren’t particularly concerned about being dragged into a dark alley and murdered. They simply went about their business with wary, watchful eyes.

It’s funny, I had heard from another Agent that this had an unintended, if welcome side effect. In the rare cases that a lone guard came upon an Agent on a mission, they were deliberately turning away and acting as if they hadn’t seen us. The guard force had noticed how we weren’t targeting them, and were responding accordingly. I got the feeling there wasn’t any love lost between the two factions from the almost tacit acceptance of our tactics.

However, the Loyalist soldiers were a different story.

Every single one of them ordered to supplement the guard force was downright paranoid. Their eyes darted about trying to plumb the depths of every shadow in the night, while sweat was visible on their foreheads, even in the freezing temperatures. They kept a tight grip on their weapons at all times, their bodies held in coiled positions ready to strike at any moment.

In fact, here came one right now. A lone Loyalist soldier was trailing not far behind the city guard that had passed my position, eyes darting about furtively and jumping at every shadow. Stupidly, he had strayed from the path and had started rooting around in an alleyway across from my position, as if he would find a saboteur among the garbage.

I eyed him coldly for a moment, contemplating.

In a split-second decision, I decided to go for it.

I raised one hand, pointed at him, and cast a skill that had seen a decent bit of use in the last week.

Shadow Thorn.

Unseen, unheard, the shadows in the alleyway across from me thickened behind the guard. From their inky black depths, a deadly spiked thorn rose upon a crimson red vine, swaying in a serpentine manner. Before the guard could even react, the thorn speared forward.

And tore through his throat from behind, severing his spine as it did so. His poorly made armor wasn’t able to stop the Skill from delivering the strike at all.

The only noise the Loyalist soldier was able to make a brief gurgle, before he fell forever silent.

I canceled the skill, thorn rapidly retreating from the throat of the soldier and back into the pool of shadow before dissipating. The Loyalist corpse fell backward with a clang upon the cobblestones of the dockyard, the noise rattling up and out of the alleyway.

Ah.

I hadn’t intended for that noise.

It appeared to have alerted the city guard who had passed me not long ago. He turned around at the sound with curious eyes. I think he was expecting the guard he had to have known following him to greet his gaze. Maybe he thought the incautious soldier had fallen over or something.

Instead, the only thing that met his eyes was an empty street, wind whistling between its walls.

The guard visibly tensed for a moment, before I saw him deliberately turn around and keep walking. I noticed that his shoulders were held stiffer than they had been, however.

Oh, he knew what had just happened.

I’d bet on it.

I shook it off and aimed another hand at a nearby rooftop, casting Thorn Grapple as I did so. As I flew through the air to land on the shingles of the roof, I spared a thought for possibly disposing of the corpse of the soldier I’d taken out.

I decided against it.

They’d find him in the morning, I’m sure. The snow would preserve his corpse.

………………………………..

This was the place, I was positive.

Below me were the offices of Horizon shipping, the merchant company I had been ordered to go and rob. According to Hook, Duke Olsen had a major controlling stake in this particular outfit. While they were far, far from being his only source of income from which he was helping bankroll the Loyalist cause, they were a major contributor. Horizon was one of the original three companies that Olsen had founded in order to claw his way up from the very bottom.

Which had been a bit of a shock to me.

Duke Quentin Olsen hadn’t been born a noble. Olsen was even his original name. No, instead, he had amassed such a ridiculous fortune that he had bought himself a noble title. Then, he had wooed the daughter of the previous Duke Olsen, married her, taken her name, and began ruling Elderwyck. You would think his lowly origins engendered a bit of sympathy for the plight of the common man in him.

You’d be dead wrong.

But I didn’t have time for such thoughts.

I needed to get inside this gaudy office. It was decently well guarded, from what I could see. I’d counted six guards so far, all of them from among the city forces. That meant I had to go in quiet, instead of taking them out one by one.

Normally I’d say this was a bit tricky, but, well…

The guards were slacking. The unexpected snowfall had seen most of them retreating to a small guardhouse to huddle around a fireplace. They had left only a pair of shivering, miserable guards to watch the front and back entrances of the office.

That just wasn’t enough.

However, I had no plans to go through either of those poor shivering saps. You see, I’d noticed something, during my work as a Nocturne Agent.

People didn’t tend to think vertically. This led to them periodically forgetting to properly secure any potential entrances not on the ground floor. Not that this building had a proper door up here on the roof or something.

But it did have plenty of windows. And whaddya know, the lock was weak on one of them. I barely had to jimmy it a few times before the fragile piece of metal bent under my urging. Once it was open, I gripped the lip of the roof and swung myself inside silently, landing on plush carpet. Slowly easing the window closed, I allowed myself a brief smirk.

Well, that had been easy.

Infiltration complete.

Looking around, I saw that I was in some kind of medieval looking cubicle farm. There were partitioned scribe desks all around me, all of them thankfully bereft of their owners. Good. I’d hoped I wouldn’t run into any late-night workers. I didn’t have to worry about running into anyone else in here. None of the guards were even inside. I think they were forbidden from entering the premises after hours.

But I wasn’t where I needed to be. I might be on the right floor, but I wasn’t going to find any important documents in the desk of a scribe. No, it would be in the offices of more important Horizon employees. This floor did have its own closed-door rooms used by the higher-ups. Some were meeting rooms, as I found out peering through windows.

But the majority seemed to be personalized.

However, I wasn’t looking for the office of some overpaid, likely corrupt middle manager.

I needed to find the personal office of Karl Eisenhorn, the owner of Horizon Shipping. By far the most corrupt of them all.

Eisenhorn was a boyhood friend of the Duke, from before he had bought his noble title. To reward Karl’s loyalty as a leg breaker all those years, Quentin Olsen had elevated the man to the owner of one of his original shipping companies. However, there was a problem.

The man was a complete buffoon. He spread and flaunted his newfound wealth all over the place, caring little for either personal Statusial advancement or anything beyond his newfound hedonism. It made him careless.

Careless to the degree that he should be keeping incriminating documents in his own office, according to our intelligence.

Surprisingly, I didn’t find his office on this floor, even though I'd thought it was the top one. What I did find was a spiral staircase that seemed to lead upward to a detached floor above.

I frowned, annoyed with myself. Looks like I hadn’t scouted the place well enough, that I couldn’t tell there was another level. I’d wasted precious time inside on a fruitless search when I didn’t have to.

I promised myself I’d do better, next time.

I climbed the stairs, to find an even more lavish waiting area in front of a gaudy set of double doors. Rich, plush red carpet filled the entire small floor from wall to wall. A small desk that looked like it could belong to a receptionist thankfully sat empty. I didn’t bother checking it, instead advancing on the double doors. Trying the handle, I found them locked. This one I couldn’t easily brute force, like I had the window.

Oh well, time to call the whole thing off.

Not.

I took out my lockpicking toolkit and kneeled down in front of the doors, getting to work.

You know, for such a wealthy man, it looked like Eisenhorn had skimped on his locks. I had it open in moments.

Getting to my feet, I carefully opened the doors. On the other side I found an office that was so flashy, so garish, and so uselessly ostentatious that I was momentarily reminded of Magnus’s mansion back in Addersfield. I shook it off, though, stalking inside and looking around.

Best place to start was probably the desk, I decided.

Approaching the unnecessarily large, nearly room-spanning desk, I started rifling through its draws. Unsurprisingly considering Eisenhorn’s reputation, I only found…

Bottles of booze, and what looked like packets of illicit drugs.

I helped myself to one of the bottles of high-quality booze, slipping it into my pouch.

Better me than you, fuckface.

Still, that left me with having to search the rest of the office. I didn’t want to return to the temporary Nocturne base inside the walls of Elderwyck with nothing to show for my mission. I just know Hook would give me one of those looks of his.

Wisp would probably make fun of me too. I'd spoken to the other Agent a few times, over the past week, when our paths crossed.

We'd almost struck up an impromptu friendship.

Standing in the middle of the office, I slowly turned in place, examining it as I did so. I paused when my eyes set on a large portrait of what must be Karl Eisenhorn, a heavy set, square jawed brute of a man. Once upon a time, he would have probably passed as formidable-looking. Now he just looked like an old boxer long gone to seed, to me, all dressed up in frippery that didn’t suit him at all.

At the very least, the painting was well done.

But…

It couldn’t be that simple, could it? Maybe it was. I had to remind myself that what seemed cliché to me was probably thought of as clever by the people of Vereden. They didn’t have the easy access to media and stories like I had, growing up back on Earth.

Oh, what the hell.

I approached the large portrait hung on the wall and lifted a corner, looking behind it.

I resisted the urge to cackle at what I found.

Sure enough, there was what looked to be a safe set into the wall behind the portrait. I bet this was where old Eisenhorn was keeping his dirt on his long-time friend, the gigantic dumbass.

I removed the portrait from the wall and set it on the ground, fully exposing the safe.

I eyed it for a moment in thought.

Safes were a different matter from simple locks. I wasn’t actually confident in my ability to crack something like this. My lessons as an Agent had yet to reach that point.

Good thing Hook had told me it was fine if I was a little overt.

I raised my hand and pointed at the safe, triggering Poisonthorn Shot. The sizzlingly poisonous crimson thorn shot from my palm and lodged itself in the surface of the safe, corroding the locking mechanism shortly. When I tried to open it after letting it work, the entire door fell off altogether.

I managed to catch it at the last moment before it hit the floor. I breathed a sigh of relief at the close call. I don’t know if that noise would have brought the guards, but better safe than sorry.

Setting it down gently, I took a look in the safe and smirked at what I found. Inside were stacks and stacks of parchment, scrolls, and even what looked to be gems and gold.

Jackpot.

In more ways than one.

The Division could always use some extra funding in hostile territory, after all.

Taking out a sack I had brought along for just this purpose, I scooped everything inside.

Time to get out of here.

Turning to leave, I paused when my eyes fell on the portrait still leaning against the wall.

I wonder how much Eisenhorn would panic when he found that his stash had been looted.

Sucks to be you, asshole.

I turned and left his office, quickly retracing my steps to the window I had entered from. Climbing back on the roof, I found that the guards had hardly moved from their positions while I was inside. Not even the couple shivering in the snow at the entrances had heard anything.

With one final glance to check that the coast was clear, I left the office behind and started making my way back to the Nocturne safehouse.

I’m sure Hook and the analysts back at HQ would find all this stuff very interesting.

Mission accomplished.

<<Chapter 175 | Table of Contents | Chapter 177>>

Chapter 175 - Unexpected Reunions

What the hell was she doing here?

The last I had heard from Bella, she was sailing away from the docks at Sancthaven all those months ago. She had told me she was making for the blockade on the other side of the continent in order to link up with the Uprising fleet. There, she would be joining as what was essentially a privateer under the employ of Grey specifically.

I had never heard anything else about her in that time, not even from Grey. I didn’t have any experience in particular with the Naval portion of the Uprising, and my impression was that they mostly functioned autonomously due to the blockade.

How had she ended up in Elderwyck? Was she here under orders or something?

Hmm.

Well, only one way to find out.

“C’mon,” I murmured to Sylvia. “Let’s see if we can find anyone we know.”

Sylvia nodded faintly at my words, eyes still narrowed in the direction of the unexpected ship. Her arm clutched in mine, we casually strolled our way down towards the docks.

Nothing suspicious to see here, just a young couple out on a date.

We made our way onto an empty dock not far from the ship, doing our best to scope it out while pretending as if we were simply gazing at the ocean. Now that we had a closer look at the ship, I was sure it was the Reef. It had been disguised to a degree to more closely resemble a merchant’s vessel, but I would recognize those sails anywhere.

And…

The crew that was unloading crates from its hold. I didn’t see Bella yet, but I did see some familiar faces.

Wait, shit.

Yeah, that was Laryn alright. The jolly pirate looked a little different, wearing cleaner clothes and with longer hair. But for some reason, he was still missing an eye. Last he’d told me, he was intending to get it grown back. He still had the same eyepatch on.

My gaze met Sylvia’s in mutual recognition.

Now, what to do with this?

“Contact?” I whispered to Sylvia as quietly as I could, my lips barely moving.

The disguised Sculpted woman considered the question for a moment, before nodding ever so slightly. “Risk minimal,” She breathed in answer.

Alright then. It was up to me, as I wasn’t pretending to be an entirely different species like Sylvia was. Laryn might be able to recognize me.

The next time he tromped down the ramp carrying a crate larger than himself, I sauntered up to him, leaving Sylvia behind on the pier. I approached him just as he was setting down the box.

“Well, I’ll be!” I said in a fake surprised tone. “I haven’t seen you in ages! What brings you to these waters?”

Laryn straightened up in surprise at being directly addressed, turning to look at me. He stared at me blankly for a moment before his one good eye visibly widened in shocked recognition. “Na-!” He started to exclaim, before catching himself at the last moment. “Nice ta see ya, uh, man!” He corrected himself awkwardly. Nevertheless, he reached out and grabbed my hand, shaking it with very real enthusiasm. I gripped it in return, my smile taking on a genuine edge.

Despite everything, it was nice to see him.

“I hadn’t heard anything about you or your Captain sailing in these waters,” I said, carefully trying to convey a message. “Is she here with you?”

Laryn nodded at my question, one eye darting about suspiciously. I nearly winced at how overt he was being. “Aye, she is,” He said carefully. “Ah, she’s in the harbormaster’s office right now, settlin’ up wit’ him. She should be along soon. We…can wait fer her, if ye’d like?” He asked, before his gaze drifted over to the form of the disguised Sylvia waiting faux demurely at the other pier. “Uh…she with you?”

I met his eyes, smiling evenly. “Oh, she is. I’m not surprised you don’t recognize her, considering how young she was last you met,” I said, making shit up on the spot. “That’s Cynthia, the daughter of our former employer.”

Laryn’s face lit up in recognition before he started nodding vigorously. “Oh, that’s little Cynthia!” He fake laughed. “Don’t even recognize the gel! C’mere, you!” He said, waving Sylvia closer.

When she had joined us, he pulled both Sylvia and I into a group hug that brought his mouth close to my ear. “Name?” He muttered urgently.

“Hans,” I murmured back quickly.

“Gruber,” He returned. I resisted the urge to make a face at the fake name. That was the best he could come up with?

“Captain?” Sylvia whispered on his other side.

“Nicollette,” ‘Gruber’ said, before separating from us with a fake smile on his sea-weathered features.

The entire exchange had taken only moments, so I don’t think it had looked suspicious.

Laryn spotted something over my shoulder, causing his eye to light up again. “And there she is!” He said in a relieved tone. “Captain must be done wit’ the negotiations. I’m sure she’ll be happy ta see ya.”

I turned around, expecting to see the same blue-coated rough and tumble pirate Captain I was so familiar with. But I paused when I did see her.

Bella looked…different.

Clearly in disguise herself, Captain ‘Nicollette’ looked far more…respectable than I remember her being. Instead of her coat and pirate leathers, she wore what looked like a sharp white and red naval outfit with a long coat waving in the sea breeze. She even had a clean tricorne hat on her head, complete with a bright white feather poking from the brim. The brass buttons on her outfit gleamed in the sunlight, while the cutlass at her side looked more presentable than I ever remembered it being.

She was striding in the direction of her ship, deep in apparent conversation with a portly-looking official. However, when her deep blue eyes looked up briefly, they settled first on Sylvia, and then stopped on me.

She stopped in her tracks, blinking in open shock.

I couldn’t help but smile at the sight, no matter where we were.

Hello, Bella.

Oh, excuse me.

‘Nicollette.’

……………………………..

Thirty minutes of careful and nonchalant manuevering later, Bella, Sylvia, and I managed to make our way to a familiar meeting room at the heart of the ship. Meanwhile, a woeful Laryn had been shooed away back to work by the disguised pirate Captain, while the three of us settled in on the Thorny Reef.

Or rather, the ‘Coral Squall’.

“I think I like the old name better,” I said to Bella, accepting a glass of amber liquor from her. Taking a sip of it, I found it to be of remarkably better quality than the ‘grog’ they’d tried to ply me with the last time I’d been aboard.

This actually tasted like something a living mortal should be drinking, for one.

The four of us were sitting around a small side table in the room, catching up as best as we could in the limited time we had. Sylvia and I had somewhere to be, after all.

“Old name me skinny arse,” Bella said lightly, not taking any offense. “It’s just the name I’m running the old girl under. Something the Bluebacks came up with. I’m putting up with it fer now, but I ain’t forgotten this ship's roots.”

“Bluebacks…” I muttered, trying to remember if I’d ever heard the name before. I think so? If I had, it had only been in passing.

Sylvia made an amused noise after thanking Bella for her own cup of booze. “A Naval Intelligence office that broke away from the Kingdom at the beginning of the war. They’re…entirely separate from the Order, but allied with the Uprising.”

Oh, I see. So, they weren’t with us lowly Nocturnes then.

“An’ there ain’t many of them left,” Bella piped in. “They’ve pretty much hung up the ol’ cloak and dagger in favor of the Admiral's stripes, after sufferin’ too many losses. They’re runnin’ the show down south when it comes ta Naval affairs these days, as most of the Royal Navy leadership stuck’ wit’ the Loyalists.” She laughed, throwing back her own glass of liquor and pouring another. “I gotta say, it’s damn strange ta be linkin’ up with them. Time was, the Bluebacks were the ones huntin’ pirates all up and down the coasts. Now, they’ve been puttin’ out a call of amnesty fer anyone that comes in and raises the flag of the Uprising, with promises of real positions after the war. And it’s workin’. I’ve seen more than one familiar crew decide that they want ta go straight. Even some ships from Marrowmist.”

“Huh,” I said thoughtfully before something else occurred to me. “Ah…what about McGill? Is he keeping to his promise and hitting the Loyalists too?”

At that, Bella’s mirth faded and her face affected a sour note. “Aye,” She still affirmed. “That dog kept ta his word. He even set up his own pirate port and stuck ta his damn fool name of ‘Freefief’. But he and his boys are raidin’, I’ll say that. I’d almost say they’re pissin’ off the Loyalists more than the rest of us are, wit’ the way he pretty much stole a major island from ‘em. Bluebacks are happy about it, though. He’s takin’ plenty of pressure off of them, wit’ his antics.”

Sylvia set down her glass, drawing the attention of Bella. “This is interesting news, Isabella,” Sylvia said, causing Bella to roll her eyes and mutter something about Grey. “But…what are you doing here? I had no idea the ‘Bluebacks’ were operating in this area.”

“Well, I can’t say the same, girlie,” Bella surprisingly said, face painted with a smirk. My eyebrows rose at that, causing Bella to amend her statement. “Well, not you specifically. I mean the Order. The Bluebacks heard from someone up north that yer doin’ somethin’ here in Orc country, and wanted to show their support. What with how pleased they are that Whitegull set up a convenient pawn ta take attention away from them.”

Is that how the Uprising Navy saw our actions at Caer Drarrow? As some kind of calculated plan to create a puppet force of pirates to assault the Loyalists?

That was only, like, half true at best.

“So, they forged some false merchant's papers, prettied up our ships, and sent a number of us out west ta see if we can support ya,” Bella said with a smile. “I was meant ta see if I could scout this port out, and make contact wit’ the Order forces on the ground. And…well, looky here,” She toasted the two of us. “I seem ta have found two genu-wine members o’ the Order.”

Sylvia and I exchanged a look at that, before simultaneous smiles stole across our faces. “You or me?” I asked my partner in more ways than one.

“You do it,” Sylvia said cheekily, relaxing into her chair. “Let Isabella and I catch up, hm?” As Bella eyed the two of us curiously, I stood up from my chair and walked over to a nearby changing screen in the other corner of the room.

I needed to try and maintain some of the Nocturne Division’s secrets.

Once out of sight I took out my communication coin and started flipping in sequences. With Headquarters finding out about the unexpected boon we’d gotten from a far-flung branch of the Uprsing, they would let Hook know right away.

And then he could scheme up a way for this to benefit our operations in the city.

Speaking of…

I stepped out from around the changing screen to find Bella and Sylvia almost huddled together on one side of the table. As I drew closer, for some reason Bella took one look at me and burst out laughing. Meanwhile, Sylvia had an almost embarrassed look on her still illusioned features.

I blinked slowly at the odd interaction.

I’m…not sure I wanted to know.

I cleared my throat. “Ah…we should get going,” I said apologetically, to the both of them. “The relevant parties have been informed of your offer, and you’ll be contacted soon. In the meanwhile, the two of us have a prior engagement.”

Sylvia nodded, standing up from her chair and composing herself. “Isabella, I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you soon,” She told the Captain with a smile.

Bella just raised her glass at us in a salute. “Count on it. I ain’t gonna miss any o’ this fer the world.”

………………………..

Fifteen minutes later, Sylvia and I were somewhere entirely different.

That being on a rooftop of a warehouse some distance into the harbor district of Elderwyck. We had changed out of our civilian cover clothes and, quite conspicuously and deliberately, into Nocturne Division Order armor. Our respective masks were donning our faces, while concealing hoods had been drawn up over our heads. Sylvia’s familiar black and white one was concealing her once again Mithril features, while my previously blank mask had finally been painted for this operation.

I had settled on a mostly porcelain white surface with a crimson impression of a noose on the front. The long end of it started at my forehead, with the open portion of the stylized rope falling vertically through the eye holes of the mask. The bottom portion of it curled around in front of where my mouth should be, almost giving the impression of a bloody grin.

Without a word, a similarly garbed Dusk melted out of the shadows to our left, coming to stand with us.

We stood there silently for a moment, letting the now night air blow across our cloaked forms as we gazed out at dockyards. Below us, we could see the graveyard shift of the dockworkers hustling and bustling about their business, illuminated by lamplight.

Dusk broke the silence. “Ready?” She said shortly, to our accompanying nods. The Gnoll Agent stepped past us, dropping out of sight to the darkened alleyway below in an instant. Sylvia followed her, but I paused for a moment.

A shift in the wind had caught my attention.

Holding out an open hand, I stared at my palm as a single white snowflake settled into the leather of my gloves. Looking up, I beheld countless others drifting downwards to settle onto any flat surface they could find.

Ah.

I see.

Winter really had come to Vereden.

I shook off the odd feeling and stepped forward off the rooftop, falling to join the others.

Time to get to work.

<<Chapter 174 | Table of Contents | Chapter 176>>

Chapter 174 - Magical Brews [Vol. 5 Start]

I took a slow breath in, holding my concentration. I’d been challenging myself recently to do this with only my newer golden hand instead of my flesh one. The process was a bit clumsier with the muted sense of both physical touch and Aetherial sense, but I could do it. It was just a bit harder, but the practice was good for me.

Focusing, I felt the last piece of the puzzle slot into place, and I committed.

The swirling cloud of astralized potion ingredients recombined into the directed vial, forming a butter-yellow mild stamina potion.

I picked up the finished product and brought it to eye level. Swirling it around a few times, I eyed it critically before nodding.

Yup, this one was fine. Not great, considering the quality of the ingredients.

But good enough.

Now I only had to do about…fifteen more.

I sighed, looking around the small workroom that I was in. I was standing in front of a tiny desk, surrounded on all sides by shelves containing sub-par potion materials and crates holding my finished products. The space was basically a glorified broom closet with a small vent to the outside, something that I’m sure normal potioneers were grateful for with their brewing. Since I did all my potion-making with Aetherial Melding, I didn’t have to worry about potentially toxic fumes melting my lungs.

This…wasn’t exactly what I had been expecting, for a super-important infiltration and sabotage mission.

I hadn’t predicted being told to get a damned job.

But that’s what Hook had outright ordered me to do, after he had finally woken up in the Nocturne safehouse that Dusk led us to inside Elderwyck proper. Tlazo had turned out to be good on his word, and the regeneration potion that he’d fed Hook had been damned powerful. The allied Healer Dusk had contacted to look him over had been outright baffled at his quick recovery, considering Hook's injuries.

As soon as the dwarf was up and walking again, Sylvia and I had received our standing orders. Both of us were to blend into the populace, keep our heads down, and work to acquire information that could lead to furthering the efforts of the dozens of Nocturne Agents inside the city walls. Furthermore, we were to regularly check in with him at the safehouse to receive missions. In order to do that, however, we needed a stable cover.

Which meant gainful employment.

And thus, here I was, churning out middling potions from nearly garbage-quality ingredients. The inherent filtering and refining capabilities of Aetherial Melding meant that I was able to get a better product out of poorer materials than anything but a master potioneer could manage. I wasn’t used to working with such trash, however. It almost felt like my pride as a craftsman was being insulted having to make do with what I’d been given. But that was silly.

And it was probably the only reason I’d managed to get the job I’d found, anyway.

I’d had some ideas about what to look for when it came to employment, and had thus started hitting up the local alchemy shops and asking if they were looking for brewers. Most actually wanted to hire me when I’d asked, but had needed to turn me away. With the closing of the city gates and the increasing volatility of the war, their margins were getting thinner and thinner. They couldn't afford to take me on, even when I presented examples of my work. I’d nearly given up on the potions idea before I stumbled on this little hole in the wall.

Jason’s Magical Brews.

The shop had looked to have fallen on…hard times, lately. The paint had been peeling, the sign was crooked, and one of the windows had been boarded up. But it had been open, I’d seen movement through one of the remaining windows, and most importantly?

There had been a ‘Help Wanted’ sign out front.

I’d decided what the hell, and given it a shot.

That had been a week ago, now. I’d been churning out potions as quickly as my new employer could procure the basic herbs and grasses required ever since.

Speaking of…

I was interrupted by the noise of almost neurotically timid knocks on the door of my brewing closet. I held my breath for a moment, counting backwards from five in an effort to keep my temper. I knew that my new boss was only checking up on me so he could restock the shelves, but…

Did he have to do this every five damned minutes?

I let the breath out and turned to open the door. When I did so, I beheld the sight of my new employer.

Jason Aldridge, the ‘Jason’ of ‘Jason’s Magical Brews’.

A man that couldn’t brew a potion to save his damned life.

He was a slight man, at least four inches shorter than my five-eleven frame. Jason was the type of man that was unfortunate enough to have started balding in his late twenties, and also the type to be too stubborn to just shave it all off. It left him trying to cover up the nearly friar-esque bald spot on top of his head with a few transparent wisps of dirty blonde hair. The man was wearing round spectacles over his pale blue eyes, which only enlarged his already large eyes to look nearly bulbous. Said eyes were staring at me in a pleading manner as the young shop owner wrung his hands and smiled at me in a sickly way.

“A-ah, Hans,” He stuttered, using the fake name that I had given him. “Are y-you done with the stamina potions?”

I did my best to return his smile. Considering how high my Acting Talent had been getting, I had no problem faking it in front of his civilian. “I have some crates for you,” I confirmed, to his obvious relief. Turning back around, I picked up the stack crate full of potions that I’d been working on all morning and handed it off to Jason. He staggered under their weight, turning around to lay it on the counter of the shop. On the other side of it was one of our main customers for the stamina potions I’d introduced to Jason’s product line.

The crew manager at of the dockside warehouses in Elderwyck.

I briefly met his eyes, causing him to flash me a smile in greeting.

Time to get some actual work done.

Shuffling past Jason, I leaned against the counter and returned his smile. “Simon, how’s it going?”

“Oh, you know how it is, Hans,” He answered back, his own smile taking on a weary edge. “Things are rough right now, with the way the bean pushers are pushing us. I don’t know how my boys could make it through these extra shifts, if we didn’t have your new potions,” Simon said, picking up one the mild stamina potion from its crate that I had finished not moments ago. He shook his head in wonder. “Ain’t ever seen something like this before. It’s a right wonder it is, especially with how cheap they are.”

When I’d first started working in this shop, I had gone over the catalog that Jason had launched with. I think I was spoiled as far as my mystical education was going, considering I’d thought what he offered was very limited. Apparently, things like stamina potions were only seen in much more expensive potion shops, and were typically unavailable to the common man. Jason had been shocked when I’d offered to include them in the line-up

See, Jason used to have a business partner that did all the brewing, only he had been poached with a better offer by a rival shop only a few months after opening. That had left Jason high and dry, and needing to rely on the weak swill that he could brew himself. His shop was conveniently located not far from the docks, so he used to get brisk business from the dockworkers. That changed when he had to do all the brewing himself. His shop had been failing before I came along.

Not anymore.

The dockworkers had returned with a vengeance, especially when it became known we were offering new stamina potions to help them get through shifts.

And dockworkers talked.

“Oh yeah?” I asked with plenty of real interest. “Why don’t you tell me more?”

……………………………..

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jason,” I said to the neurotic shopkeep, shrugging on a thin coat I’d bought for myself. I’d finished the brewing needed for the day, and I was taking off at my usual time around midday. Since I was so much quicker at the process than other alchemists, it was only about an hour after lunchtime.

“A-ah…” Jason stuttered, looking up from his ledger with a timid smile. “Have a good day, H-Hans.”

Jason didn’t dare order me around more than he needed to. He knew very well how lucky he was to have found such an apparently skilled potion maker, when he’d been on the verge of selling his failing business.

I knew I was taking advantage of his desperation just a little, but it’s not like the man wasn’t benefiting from the arrangement. Still, I felt a little bad when I wondered what he was going to do, when I was gone.

Not like that was going to happen anytime soon, though.

This was promising to be a long campaign.

I was stopped at the door by Jason speaking again, though. “Keep an e-eye out, though,” He said, causing me to look over my shoulder. The weaselly-looking man had a worried expression on his face. “You n-never know when one of those a-attacks will hit.”

I smiled thinly at him, amused on the inside. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Jason,” I told him. “See you later.” With that, I turned around and walked out of the shop.

I didn’t have to worry about the ‘attacks’.

After, I was one of the people doing them.

………………………………

The outside air of Elderwyck was downright chilly this late in the year. Winter was in full swing. The sea of the harbor was starting to frost over some, which had certainly been one of the things that old Simon had complained to me about. The smell of frozen brine had settled over the entire city by now, and I didn’t mind it at all.

It reminded me of my days on the Thorny Reef.

However, that wasn’t the only thing in the air.

Elderwyck was under an almost constant state of alert these days. Fear, uncertainty, and outrage were common on the lips of the people, and not all of that was the fault of the Nocturne Division. But…we were helping to stoke that fire.

The Duke and his provincial government had been coming down hard on the populace of Elderwyck. Guards and Soldiers were far more common in the streets, and prone to harass anyone that even looked at them funny. Heavier taxes were being levied against businesses and workers, while food and supplies were becoming more scarce with the overland trade routes so hazardous. They weren’t quite blocked off, but it was much harder to get an entry permit into Elderwyck these days than it had been.

This city was a slow-burning powder keg of resentment and anxiety, with most of it being directed at the Duke. Apparently, it had been like this even before the Nocturne division had committed to bringing it down from the inside.

Seems like Duke Olsen had been getting a tad paranoid, even before we’d come along.

We’d only intensified that.

Eventually, something was going to have to give in this city. And we were going to make sure it wasn’t us.

But that was for later.

Right now, I was on my way to meet up with another essential part of my cover. A certain silvery fellow Agent that I was quite fond of.

After a brief walk through the murmuring streets of Elderwyck, I arrived at her own cover. When I opened the door, a small bell rang above me from the motion, although the woman at the desk didn’t look up from her book. I think her name was Glynda or something.

We hadn’t really talked.

I took a look around briefly. This was another little shop, although it wasn’t doing quite as badly as Jason’s had been. Instead of potion-making, though, this was a stationary, book binding, and ink shop. The walls were lined with sheaves of parchment, glues, inks, and even a few finished books.

Honestly, I thought my partner had lucked out with a better job than I had.

“Welcome to Elderwyck Stationary. How can I help-,” The woman started to say, finally looking up. She paused, though, when she saw that it was just me. I did my best to smile at her although it didn’t do much. She just looked annoyed to see me. “Ugh. Cynthia!” She shouted into the back of the shop. “Your boy toy is here!”

After that, the woman deliberately looked back down at her book and started to ignore me. A few moments later, I heard the sound of sandaled feet navigating the back rows of the shop, before ‘Cynthia’ appeared.

Or rather, the disguised form of Sylvia under her human-seeming illusion.

Since she’d started working here, the hidden Sculpted woman had started to wear simple woolen dresses to blend in. Todays was grey with a green shawl thrown over her shoulders, while a plain white bandana kept her illusioned black hair out of her face. Smudges of ink dotted her face and hands from the hours of scribe work that I knew she must have been doing in the back.

Still, she smiled at the sight of me.

Glynda and ‘Cynthia’ ignored each other as she passed the front desk and linked arms with me. She didn’t look back as we walked out the front door.

“She seems like a handful,” I said mildly, as we walked down the streets of Elderwyck, vaguely in the direction of the docks.

Sylvia hummed, eventually shrugging. “It’s not an issue,” She said dismissively, before cutting her eyes my way and smiling, almost impishly. “So, where are you taking me today, Mr. Alchemist?”

I smiled back down at her. This was, in my mind, one of the most integral parts of my cover. After all, a bachelor could be looked at suspiciously, but a man with a girl he was courting?

Well.

People were inclined to think he had too much to risk by getting into any kind of sabotage. It didn’t tend to cross their minds that the girl could be doing it as well. Not respectable craftspeople like us, anyway.

That it let Sylvia and I get in some actual dates was only a side benefit.

Totally.

However, I was startled when Sylvia’s grip on my arm suddenly tightened, as we drew closer to the docks.

“N-Hans,” She hissed at me, her eyes fixed on the water. “Is that what I think it is?”

Furrowing my brow at her tone, I followed her gaze and felt a bolt of lightning rush down my spine. I don’t think I would ever forget the sight of that particular ship. It looked a little different, maybe cleaned up a bit. There looked to be a fresh coat of paint on its hull, as well.

But I had only just been thinking of it earlier today.

Floating in the harbor of Elderwyck was the Thorny Reef.

Bella was here.

<<Chapter 173 | Table of Contents | Chapter 175>>

Chapter 173 - Tithed [Vol. 4 End]

Well, this was a fantastic start to our infiltration.

After the Tlatecian Orc guard had, somehow, immediately known that a group of people were entering the city from the back entrance, we’d all been arrested. Hook had been pretty exhausted from his injuries at the time, and had discreetly ordered us to comply with the guard’s orders.

Before promptly passing out.

I’d ended up being the one to carry the unconscious dwarf on my back, as the hulking Orc had paraded us through the streets of Tlatec at sword point. He hadn’t even needed to slap us in cuffs or something. The threat of his extremely sharp-looking greatsword had been more than enough.

That had been fine by me. Hook hadn’t seemed too alarmed by the abrupt arrest before conking out. Dusk didn’t either.

I figured this was expected. Which…I would have appreciated a heads-up.

But whatever.

It gave me more time to observe both the city around me and the actual residents. This was my first time seeing actual living Orcs.

They weren’t quite what I was expecting.

So many people had built them up in my mind over the months that I had been expecting a race of, I dunno, supermen or something. A people that were so much more massively powerful than the Humans, Dwarves, and Sculpted that I was so used to.

But…at least as we’d been force-marched down the neatly planned streets of Tlatec?

They just looked like people.

Well.

Grey-skinned people.

I had been surprised to discover that the grey tinge to the skin that I’d noticed on Tlazo’s undead hadn’t just been a symptom of bloodlessness. Orcs in general had a slight heatherish coloring to them, very lightly tinged with nearly purple. Mostly grey, the darkness of their skin ranged from light to dark in the same way that it did on humans.

I don’t know what I had been expecting. Media from my old world had me thinking the Orcs were going to be a deep green with somewhat piggish features. But no. While their facial features did seem to trend broader than Humans, Dwarves, or even Elven ones, I wouldn’t call them piggish. Just strong and broad.

They did have tusks and long pointed ears, though.

The tusks themselves seemed to be a kind of elongated canine teeth that poked out of their bottom lips. Males tended to have larger ones, while female Orcs were smaller. Their ears weren’t quite like the elven ones, either. Elven ears looked almost rapier thin, to my eyes. Orcs had thicker and kind of curved ears, noticeably longer than my own. I also noticed that they seemed to have a racial tendency to have black or dark brown hair, in the same way that some ethnicities of humanity did back home.

None of that had been present on the undead I’d seen, far beneath this city. I suppose most of those distinguishing features had either rotted or fallen off, in the passage of time.

All in all, the Orcs weren’t quite as alien as I’d expected them to be.

They definitely had different ideas about clothing, armor, and aesthetics though. Our guard, for example, was barely wearing more than a leather harness with attached steel pauldrons, a sort of long crimson loincloth, and sandals. Well, other than his admittedly impressive, large purple feathered headdress.

And the sword. Can’t forget the massive obsidian greatsword.

But he didn’t seem out of place among the populace. The Orcs appeared to trend towards leather straps, barely concealing tunics and loincloths, and the occasional robe for cultural clothing. I saw quite a bit of exposed grey flesh on the streets of the city.

Something else I noticed was the lack of anything else but Orcs. I was definitely the only Human out here, much less Gnolls, Sculpted, or Dwarves like the rest of my party.

I didn’t get a chance to continue my observations before the Orcish guard stopped me in front of a large, nearly pyramidal-like building.

“Inside,” The Guard growled at us, lifting his sword threateningly.

All right, all right. Don’t get your loincloth in a bunch. The four of us shuffled inside the building, brushing aside the cloth entranceway. Inside we found what looked to be a receiving area, populated by a number of different Orcs. There were even a number of well-crafted, comfortable-looking padded chairs dotting the room that various Tlatecians were sitting in. But the Guard motioned us past those towards the desk at the back of the hewn stone room.

A particularly bored-looking Orc in bright green robes wearing spectacles of all things was sitting behind it. At our approach, they looked up at us disinterestingly. He didn’t even blink at the sight of our eclectic group. “Offense?” He asked the Guard dully.

The Guard’s thick lips curled. “Intrusion from beyond the walls,” He said curtly. His words caused the Orcish clerk to raise an eyebrow in surprise. The nearby people waiting heard as well, sending a murmur through them.

The clerk fixed us with a curious look before flipping through the large book in front of him. After a moment, he nodded to himself. “A pint of tithe, revocation of any possible merchant’s license, and a two-month prohibition from entering the city is the punishment. Escort the prisoners to the tithing area, Warrior Izel.”

Tithing area? Ominous.

But Dusk still didn’t look alarmed by anything that was happening. If anything, she looked annoyed. “A pint is more than it was last time,” She said to the clerk with a frown.

The clerk's brow furrowed. “Make a habit of trespassing, do you?” He shook his head. “All tithings have increased. Yours is not unique.” At that, the clerk looked back down at his book and deliberately started ignoring us.

I was shoved forward by the flat of the Guard’s blade. “Through that door,” He growled at us, nodding towards a large cloth covered entryway to our right. I stumbled, but managed to not drop Hook. I shot ‘Izel’ a dirty look, but complied anyway.

He didn’t care.

…………………………………..

Turns out, ‘tithing’ was getting your blood drained. Apparently in Orcish society, most punishments were handled by paying a tithe in literal blood. They had a small jail that we passed on the way to the tithing room, but the cells were all empty.

Our group ended up being forcibly drained of a pint of blood each by a disturbingly enthusiastic Orcish ‘Healer’. He hadn’t cared about how Hook was recovering from being seriously injured, or that he was still unconscious. The dwarf had still gotten drained, without ever waking up. The guy didn’t even need any equipment in order to get it done. He had a Skill for that, instead.

Amusingly enough, the blood-drainer had shuddered at the sight of Sylvia. She had yet to reapply the human-seeming illusion that Tlazo had dispelled, so her Mithril skin had been on full display. As a Sculpted, she didn’t actually have any blood for him to draw from her. Problem was, a punishment was still needed for her crime of unlawfully entering the city limits. She was given a choice of either spending a week in the jail, or having someone pay the tithe in her place.

I volunteered.

So, in the end, the Healer ended up draining me of a whole two pints of blood. The actual draining process was drawn out enough that I didn’t immediately pass out from the loss of blood, but by the time he was finished, I was close. As a criminal, I wasn’t offered a blood-replenishing potion, so I had to weakly paw around in my pouch for my own. Thankfully, I still had one of those. After all of our travels and without a chance to stock up on more potions, though, I was down to my last one.

Hook and Dusk hadn’t needed one, so after we’d all been suitably drained, the same Guard that had arrested us practically shoved us out the door of the guard station.

It was fully dark by that time, and Elys was high in the sky. Strangely magical red crystalline lights had been lit on each of the street corners outside the station, acting almost like street lamps from back home. It seemed to me that the number of Orcs out on the streets had only increased while we were inside.

The three of us, plus Hook once more on my back, stood around for a moment before retreating into a nearby alleyway between buildings, doing our best to evade the notice of the locals. After everything, we finally had a moment to talk and plan our next move.

First, though, Sylvia leaned in and brushed her lips over my stubble roughened cheek. Pulling back, she smiled at me. “Thank you, Nathan,” She said softly. “I wasn’t looking forward to spending time in an Orcish jail.”

Repositioning Hook’s insensate form on my back, I returned her smile. “No problem. Besides, we have stuff to do.”

Dusk pointedly cleared her throat, bringing our attention to her. “Our next course of action is to pass the checkpoint into Elderwyck,” She said sharply, causing Sylvia and I to straighten up at her unexpectedly commanding tone. I guess with Hook out of commission for now, she was taking command.

Fine by me.

I did have one thing to say, though.

“Did you and Hook know we were going to be caught immediately once we were inside?” I asked her with a frown.

Dusk eyed me for a moment before nodding. “It was nearly unavoidable,” She admitted. “Which is why it was a plan of last resort. Tlactec is well aware of the path that leads from the mausoleum, and their detection wards both extend well below the surface and operate on principles different than our own. We were never going to pass beneath their notice. It was…a point of confusion for some time now, why the path was said to be unguarded. But that mystery has been solved, considering Tlatec’s newest…asset.”

Yeah, I guess you could call an apparently century’s old Lich an ‘asset’.

“Yeah, well,” I sighed and grumbled. “A little heads up would have been nice.”

Dusk just shrugged apathetically.

Sylvia lay her hand on my shoulder and cleared her throat, drawing Dusk's attention.“Will passing into Elderwyck be difficult?” Sylvia asked her.

“No,” Dusk’s eyes left me to rest on Sylvia. She shook her head. “On this side of the checkpoint, the Orcs will be downright eager for us to leave. In case you didn’t notice, people actually from Vereden are scarce within Tlatec. The Orcs…prefer their own kind, to be blunt.”

Massive racists, got it.

“And the other half of the checkpoint?” I asked Dusk. “Are the Elderwyckians likely to raise a fuss about our appearance?”

“No,” Dusk said simply. “There are arrangments in that matter. Reapply your illusion,” She said to Sylvia, who promptly did so in a shower of sparks. The senior agent nodded sharply at Sylvia’s now human-seeming appearance. “Good. Let us not waste any time. Hook must be seen to by one of our own Healers in a safe house. Now, follow.” At that, the Gnoll woman slipped between Sylvia and I, exiting the alleyway into the street. She didn’t even look back at us as she momentarily wandered out of sight.

Exchanging a glance with Sylvia, we hurried after her.

………………………………

Tlatec was separated from Elderwyck by a large, deep canal that bisected the two cities. Nearly in the center of that canal was a frankly odd building, that Dusk told me housed the actual portal to Indiqua. It was a strange combination of both Herztalian and Xilochtlan construction styles. They…didn’t really complement each other. The large, nearly keep-like building, was a bit of an eyesore. But it sure didn’t look undefended, from the sheer amount of soldiers from both polities that guarded its ramparts even at this time of night.

We didn’t actually approach that, though. Instead, Dusk led us to a bridge that crossed the canal, guarded on both sides by soldiers. When we showed up, the Orcs were all too happy to shove us across the border into Elderwyck. It was only on the other side that we ran into any hiccups.

“Here, now,” The human Loyalist soldier frowned at us, holding a clipboard. “Yer not on the list. Where did ye come from?” He paused for a moment, looking over my shoulder to peer at Hook quizzically. “And what’s wrong with the stuntie, eh? He drunk, then?”

I did my best to smile sheepishly at the guard. “Ah, he pissed off one o’ the guards,” I said, affecting what I liked to mentally refer to as my ‘peasant accent’. “Had to go get drained, he did. Ye know how the greyskins are.”

Out of nowhere, the guard abruptly backhanded me full in the face. I’d been hit way harder than that before, so it didn’t really hurt much. I still made a show of staggering away from the unexpected attack though, my blood pressure spiking. Had I just given us away somehow?

That wasn’t it, though. The guard glowered at me. “The hells are ye doin’, lettin’ a stuntie cause trouble? Ye know things are tense enough with ‘em as is. We don’t need no more trouble comin’ from the greyapes!” He yelled, raising his hand as if to slap me again.

Even though I didn’t find this guy intimidating in the slightest, I still tried to take a cowering stance at his posturing.

Dusk had my back, though.

She fell to her knees before the guard, clutching at his breeches. “P-please, sir,” She stuttered, with wide pleading eyes. “It were a simple mistake, honest! Ye know how the tuskers are! If ye even so much as look ‘em funny, they's gonna drain ya!”

The guard paused, looking down at the once again tawny-furred and ragged-looking Gnoll. “Well, yer right about that,” He said slowly, before narrowing his eyes at her. “That don’t explain who ye lot are, though? Why aren’t ya on the list?”

“That was my bad, Owen,” An unexpected voice said, coming to our rescue. Following it to the source, I saw another Loyalist Guard had just exited the gatehouse that led into the city. He was a youngish human man, looking to be about my age with light blonde hair. He smiled sheepishly at the other Guard, rubbing the back of his head. “I know this lot, and forgot to mark ‘em down earlier.”

The Guard interrogating us, apparently named ‘Owen’, abruptly sighed and lowered his hand. “Tom, ye can’t be doin’ that.” He groaned, before waggling a finger disapprovingly at ‘Tom’. “I should report ye for this, but I won’t on account of the lunch ye brought earlier. Just don’t let it happen again, ye hear? Go on then, git. Don’t want ta look at ya anymore.” He finished, speaking to us.

I didn’t question our good luck, instead hurrying across the border with the others. As we passed the Guard that had come to our rescue, I briefly met his eyes.

He winked at me, and then signed something with a free hand.

I may have only just started learning the series of hand gestures that Nocturne agents used, but I still recognized that one.

‘Acknowledgement.’

Ah. I get it.

I signed it back, before wandering out into the darkened streets of Elderwyck with the rest of my apparent cell.

Finally, we had reached the city.

Now for the real work to begin.

<<Chapter 172 | Table of Contents | Chapter 174>>

Chapter 172 - Bona Fide Relics

“Oh…,” Tlazo said, visibly enraptured. “I had absolutely no idea that such interesting events had been occurring on the surface.”

It hadn’t taken the apparently supremely skilled surgeon long to do all he could for Hook. Once he’d finished plucking out bone shards from the dwarf’s abdomen, setting his arm with a splint, and sewing him back closed, he presented the dwarf with a healing potion. After eyeing it suspiciously for a moment, Hook had thrown it back with a grimace. According to Tlazo, it was a regeneration potion of his own concoction that would cause his wounds to mostly heal within the next few hours.

I’d actually been brave enough to ask the Lich for the recipe for the potion. Most healing potions weren’t strong enough to completely heal complex internal injuries like that. You had to rely on Healers like Honoka and Renauld instead.

Tlazo had chuckled, scribbled it down on a piece of parchment, and given it to me with his blessing. Afterward, the five of us moved over to sit at a small table in the corner of his lab. There, one of his Orcish undead ‘assisstants’ had brought out tea of all things for us to share.

I…actually liked it. The leaf juice may have been prepared by a zombie, but it honestly wasn’t bad.

I was the only one who ended up touching the provided tea.

I didn’t blame the others for not trying it. Nor did Tlazo, apparently. He just kept questioning Sylvia about the Sculpted, totally unfazed by the way Hook and Sylvia had politely turned it down. Meanwhile, Dusk wasn’t even sitting at the table with us. The Gnoll woman was leaning against the wall and watching the odd conversation in silence, still suspicious of the Lich.

Said Lich laughed out loud delightedly. He actually slapped one of his bony knees, from his spot in the chair he had stopped floating over to fully sit in. “I had no idea old Greycton had it in him!” He crowed. “Creating an entirely new race, fully integrated into the System! Marvellous! Simply marvellous!”

I set down my cup of tea to give Tlazo an incredulous look. “How did you not know? There was a System notification and everything! They even call it the Second Initialization!”

If possible, I think Tlazo’s delight intensified. “A System notification!” He banged one bony palm down on the table, causing his cup of untouched tea to roll off the table and shatter on the stone below. He paused, and then shrugged. “Ah, how truly regretful that I missed it. Unfortunately, as a dead man, I no longer possess my Status and thus never saw this notification. Such a gift is intended only for the living, you see.”

Oh. So this guy didn’t even have a Status anymore.

I don’t think that made him any less dangerous, though. There was a feeling inherent to the Lich that I’d only ever felt from Grey, Honoka, and to a lesser extent, Leonard Ashran.

I blinked at the Lich’s obvious glee and regret. I wasn’t the only one, as Sylvia spoke again after finishing her explanation. “Ah…do you perhaps…know my father, Sir Tlazo?”

I didn’t blame her for the doubt in her voice, but…

Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past Grey at this point.

I was proven right momentarily.

“Ah? Yes, we’re acquainted,” Tlazo answered idly, calming down. The jaws of his odd bear skull clacked and shifted against each other, almost as if he was trying to smile. “You could even say we were colleagues, once upon a time. Your ‘Father’ and I were both apprenticed to the same master, you see. A very long, long time ago.”

I felt a bolt of recognition shoot down my spine. The same master? The person that had died all those years ago against the Calamity Grey had referred to as the ‘Sea Beast’?

Sylvia’s lips parted, obviously recognizing the same thing. A tentative smile crossed her lips. “I didn’t know Father had any fellow apprentices all those years ago. He’s never spoken of you. I…thought the only person from that time still around was Honoka.”

“Mmm, I’m unsurprised that old bat is still kicking,” Tlazo said, unfazed by Sylvia’s questioning. “But yes, your Father and I knew each other quite well for a time. I was even one of the first people he tapped to be Professors after he took the post of Headmaster. My my, I haven’t thought of those years in ages.”

Hook visibly startled, and if he’d tried the tea, I think he would have choked on it. Instead, a hacking cough exited his mouth as he shot the lich an incredulous look. “I…think I know who you are! I thought you were,” Here he paused before continuing sheepishly. “…dead.”

“Oh, I’m quite, quite dead Mr. Hook,” Tlazo said, voice as dry as his bones. “It just didn’t stick, as you can see. However,” He fixed Hook with a suddenly intense stare. “I will ask that you not spread news of my…‘survival’, so to speak. That man is long dead, and I am what remains.”

Hook didn’t let the ensuing tense silence bother him. “Oh, I don’t intend to,” He said shaking his head, suddenly much more respectful. “I was just about to say, if you’re who I think you are, then you’re not an unlicensed Necromancer. Those licenses don’t exactly expire. Just…lapse. I can get yours updated for you if you want. Sir.”

I shuddered at the completely out-of-character admiration in Hook’s voice. I swear to God, it was as if the dwarf was suddenly deep into hero worship for the bag of bones sitting at the table with us.

I think Tlazo was taken aback by it as well. “Ah…” He said slowly. “That won’t be needed. I have no intention of returning to my former practice within Herztal. You see, as we’re currently inside a tomb owned by the Empire of Xilochtlan, I do not require my license. Furthermore, I am actually here with Orcish approval.”

“Really?” I asked, interested. “So, they know you’re down here?”

“Indeed,” Tlazo said, nodding. “In fact, I’m currently under contract with the city of Tlatec. Oh yes,” He laughed at our shocked expressions. “I’m a bona fide civil servant!”

I winced at the pun.

So.

He was like that.

“You see, this mausoleum collapsed in on itself some fifty years ago, to the dismay of the Tlatec officials,” Tlazo said, adopting a lecturing tone. Now that he was getting in on it, I could easily see how this guy had been a Professor. “The cause was determined to be simple age and neglect. The amount of bodies stored inside was too great for the lower levels to withstand. It crumbled under the weight into these tunnels below. At the time, I was searching for a new nexus of deathly Aether to continue my research, as my previous abode had been exhausted. I heard from the, ah, let us say ‘grapevine’, that the Empire was searching for a specialist to employ in handling the resulting restless dead. The bureaucracy on Indiqua was unwilling to send out one of their own necromancers to such a backwater, you see. Thus, I put forth my bid, and was thus gratefully contracted by the city of Tlatec to reconstruct the mausoleum. In due time, of course. My payment comes in the form of siphoning deathly Aether from my new assistants.” He finished by nodding at an approaching undead Orc carrying a broom. “And I intend to extract every. Last. Drop. That I can, from the interred here.”

We watched in stunned silence as the zombie swept up the shattered remnants of Tlazo’s teacup into a dustbin. When it was done, it shuffled away, having completed its task in total silence.

I cut my eyes over to Hook when it was gone, desperate for something to get us out of this odd situation. I didn’t know how much longer I could take ludicrous sights like that before I started laughing like a madman.

Thankfully, he bailed me out.

Hook stood up from his chair with a wince. “Well, thank you for your hospitality, Sir Tlazo,” He said hoarsely, doing his best to smile. It came out more like a grimace. “But we need to get moving. I’m afraid we have business in the cities above. If you could direct us to the passageway into Tlatec…? I’m afraid I don’t recognize the path, after the collapse.”

Tlazo refocused on us, recognizing the hint when it was dropped. He floated to his feet gracefully, nodding. “Of course, of course,” He said graciously. “I shall have one of my assistants lead you to the stairway. I must return to my research in any case. Do give my regards to your Father when next you see him, young lady.” He finished, talking to Sylvia.

“Ah…of course, Sir Tlazo,” Sylvia said hesitatingly. “I will…pass along your words. Who shall I say they are from?”

Tlazo paused for a moment, obviously remembering that he had given us a false name. “Oh yes,” He said, tapping a bony digit on the surface of his chin. “Tell him it’s from the Pigsnatcher!” He finally cackled. “He’ll get the reference then!” Still chuckling, Tlazo made a gesture with one of his left arms. Moments later, one of his Orcish assistants shuffled its way over to us. The undead servant didn’t even look our way before passing our group and walking off into the darkness beyond Tlazo’s strange green lamps.

Exchanging a glance with the rest of the group, we followed after the undead that was supposed to be leading us out of here. After a short walk in total silence, the undead led us to a large circular door set into the far wall of the cavern. This, at least, was more familiar than the Lich’s odd laboratory. The door was obviously carved in a similar style to the stonework I’d seen both on the walls of Tlatec and the upper reaches of the mausoleum above.

The undead laid one limp palm on the door, causing runes that had previously been hidden in the darkness to light up with oddly red-colored Mana. Seconds later, the door rolled to the side, exposing a long, drafty corridor.

Hook nodded in relief at the sight of it. I guess he recognized this as the back entrance into Tlatec. We stepped forward, but were stopped on the other side of the door.

“Oh, and as a courtesy to the daughter of an old friend, I’ll say this,” Tlazo’s voice said, echoing out of the darkness as if he was standing just outside of the door. But he wasn’t there.

Only darkness filled the space the voice came from.

“I may not have known about your war, but I did know something was going on,” The Lich continued. “I was, quite surprisingly, approached by something truly extraordinary during my years of labor and research. They wished to enlist my aid in a little scheme of theirs. However, they were a bit too…” Tlazo paused for a fraction of a second before continuing. “Bloodthirsty, for my tastes. I politely turned them down. I will not name this person, as I quite emphatically do not need any more enemies. But I will say this much. Do be careful, children. I believe there to be something…deeper to your little spat than meets the eye. Take care now. Toodles.” With the necromancer’s bizarrely cheerful warning echoing in our ears, the door to the Lich’s cavern slid closed once more before we could even question him.

Leaving us to stand in momentary darkness, before it was pierced by the light of illuminating Skills reigniting.

Now I could see the stunned expressions on everyone else's faces from the out-of-the-blue portent. I’m sure I looked the same to them.

I broke the silence in the tunnel. “What the fuck?”

“I…don’t know,” Hook said, looking lost. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. It’s like he’s implying there’s another factor to the war we don’t know about.”

“What could he possibly mean by deeper?” Sylvia asked quietly. To that, nobody had an answer.

Hook shook his head vigorously, wincing after he did so. “We’ll look into it later. Right now, I want to get out of this damn hellhole.”

With that, we set off down the tunnel. I don’t know about everyone else, but I was definitely still thinking about the odd encounter with the Lich there at the end. Tlazo hadn’t struck me as the kind of person to speak without reason to, so I was disinclined to disregard his words.

I couldn’t do anything about it right now, though, so I pushed it aside.

Right now, we had to get out of here.

………………………………..

It only took us about another fifteen minutes of walking in silence to reach a spiral staircase at the end of the path. I couldn’t help a sense of relief from rolling over me at the sight, and I don’t think I was the only one. I heard more than one slight sigh of relief now that our way out was before us.

That probably led to us not being as cautious as we should’ve been, as we climbed the stairs. They were quite long, costing us another ten minutes of effort to reach the door at the end. That didn’t surprise me, though. The level that Tlazo’s laboratory had been on was quite far beneath the surface of Vereden. Around the edges of the strangely mundane door that we eventually reached, I could see glorious, beautiful sunlight. It looked to be fading, however. We had originally entered the crypt very early in the morning, so we must have spent upwards of ten hours in that tomb.

Hook had the lock on the door open in seconds. Keeping one hand on the door, he turned to look at us and nodded. Dusk, Sylvia, and I returned it. The dwarf turned back to the door and slowly, slowly cracked it open to look outside.

He needn’t have bothered being so stealthy.

Heavily armored, sausage-thick fingers slipped into the crack that Hook had opened in the door. In moments, it had been wrenched open to reveal an absolutely massive grey-skinned figure wielding a greatsword hewn from what looked to be obsidian.

Hook stilled when the razor-sharp blade of the sword touched his throat.

“You’re under arrest,” The Orc growled at us.

<<Chapter 171 | Table of Contents | Chapter 173>>

Chapter 171 - Gambling

“I assure you, you’re in no danger here,” The owner of the voice said nonchalantly before pausing. “Well, as long as you do nothing foolish, of course.” They amended.

That was pretty damn hard to believe, considering the source.

The path of undead had opened up into what looked like a…lab of some kind. In the odd green light of the underground cavern we’d been led to, there must have been dozens of workbenches both lined up against the walls and in neat rows in the floor space. Even more undead Orcs than had been forming the path were wandering the rows and...appeared to be checking various pieces of equipment? I watched as one former Orc stirred an unfamiliar potion, mindlessly turning a rod to swirl a pewter pot over an open flame. Another was assisting by seemingly minding the flame. Plenty of other scenes just like that occurred all over the bizarrely inappropriate lab space.

But none of that caught either my attention, or those of my companions, more than the master of this mausoleum.

What Dusk had called a Lich.

They, it, was some kind of floating…skeleton person, and yet their ‘body’ was altered. They had four skeletal arms, for one, while their skull seemed to have been replaced with something non-human. Non-Orchish, even. I think, from my time as a hunter, that it was a bear skull. Seemingly grafted onto its smooth surface was a pair of what looked to be an impressively large set of moose antlers. The skull was directed our way, somehow watching us with eye sockets that possessed the same firey blue glow that the undead did. Their body was concealed by an impeccably maintained black silk robe fluttering in a non-existent breeze, with a short crimson cape thrown over their bony shoulders. They floated over a central slab in the middle of the cavern, seemingly under their own power, while an open leather-bound book did the same in the air next to them.

We seemed to have interrupted them in the middle of something, considering the surgical implements held in their four hands. My gaze drifted downwards to rest on the slab, and when I did, my heart stuttered in my chest.

Sylvia saw it too. Her hand, which had somehow ended up clutched in my mine, tightened. “Hook…” She whispered frightfully.

Our dwarven leader was lying on the slab that the Lich was floating over. The best I could say about him was that he was still breathing, from the stuttery rise and fall of his chest. But he was absolutely covered in blood.

Because it looked like the Lich had opened up his rib cage.

Even from where I stood, I could see straight into his chest. I watched in horror as the dwarf’s heart pulsed rhythmically, somehow still pumping blood through his body despite being exposed to the air.

He was awake, too. Hook’s head was turned to look our way, watching us…calmly?

Wait, what?

Brutally suppressing the emotional response the sight had instilled in me, I took another look.

Hook didn’t look alarmed at all. There was an almost bored look in his completely aware gaze. While his left arm looked to be strapped down, I watched as his right hand made an almost soothing gesture in our direction. Despite everything, I thought the dwarf was bizarrely saying that everything was…fine?

How the fuck was everything okay?

While I was inspecting Hook, everyone else was still for a moment. I think the Lich was watching us to see what we would do next.

I don’t think Dusk saw Hook’s gestures in her horror, because she made a move.

The wrong one.

Violently drawing the extendable spear I had lent her earlier, she triggered the mechanism. When it had reached its full length, she uncharacteristically snarled in an animalistic manner and made to leap at the Lich.

I saw the Lich tsk to himself, his bony jaw shifting slightly. One of his four hands rose, holding a blood-stained scalpel. Murky green Mana that practically screamed its strength into the world swirled into being, cupped in his thin fingers.

Fortunately, I had activated Sylvan Vigor active at full strength only a few moments ago.

I grabbed Dusk in a full nelson hold, my arms coming up from under her own to lace behind her neck. The Gnoll woman tensed in surprise, trying to instinctively bash my nose in with her skull. Thankfully, I took it on my chin. I still winced from the force of it, feeling a gash open up.

The Lich thankfully paused, eyeing me contemplatively.

“Nathan?!” I heard Sylvia exclaim, startled. “What are you doing?!”

“Gambling,” I grunted out, fighting to keep a hold of Dusk.

“Let go of me!” Dusk snarled again, almost rabidly. She struggled in my restraining hold, nearly overpowering me even in her disadvantaged state. Still, even if she was stronger than I was, she didn’t have the leverage to do anything about it.

“Hah,” The Lich chuckled dryly. “If you’re gambling, boy, then I’d say you played your hand well.”

“Dusk. Dusk!” I shouted at the Gnoll, as she writhed in my arms. “Look! Look at him! Does Hook look like he’s in pain?!”

Dusk’s struggles slowed, as she raised her furry head and took a closer look at Hook. Said spymaster had tried to raise up a little off the slab at Dusk’s fury, only for the Lich to casually push him back down with one skeletal arm. Even then, with his organs nearly falling out, Hook still didn’t look like he was in the agony he should be.

He just looked alarmed at Dusk’s reaction.

Sylvia came to stand beside me, having noticed what I did. “Sir?” She asked the splayed open form of Hook tentatively. “Are you…all right?”

I didn’t blame her for the doubt in her voice.

Hook tried to answer her, but only managed to wheeze. Probably because I could see that one of his lungs was deflated, in the open cavity of his chest.

I shuddered, but still didn’t let go of Dusk.

Since he couldn’t speak, Hook instead shrugged his one available shoulder.

The Lich spoke for him.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say he’s ‘all right’,” The talking skeleton said, idly dancing a scalpel across one of his four sets of bony knuckles. “When one of my assistants found him after his apparent fall, the dwarf was near death. I was just in the middle of some, shall we say, ‘advanced first aid’.” He chuckled, the laugh ringing hollow from his animalistic skull. “His left arm is well and truly shattered, as well as a truly staggering fifteen of his ribs. One lung is deflated, while the other is currently struggling from bone shards embedded in it. There’s some additional organ damage in this fellow, but nothing that a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix from his Status.”

Dusk finally slowed, the Lich’s explanation finally piercing her fury. Instead, I could see the Gnoll woman start to outright boggle at the necromancer’s words.

I didn’t blame her. I was feeling it myself.

Gradually, I let go of Dusk. She slipped out of my arms bonelessly, the fight having apparently left her.

Meanwhile, Sylvia continued speaking for us. “Are you saying…that you’re trying to save his life?” She asked incredulously.

The Lich’s skull tilted to the side. “Indeed? Isn’t that what I just said?”

“But you’re a necromancer!” I nearly shouted, stopping myself at the last minute. “Isn’t death your whole thing?”

The floating pile of bones snorted. “My whole thing indeed. Young man, just because I’m quite skilled at necromancy doesn’t mean I’m not a skilled Surgeon as well. Even Liches used to need Professions, you know.”

“And…what will you do when you’re finished with your ‘surgery’?” Dusk asked slowly.

The Lich shrugged. “I shall pat the fellow on the back and direct him towards the surface, along with the rest of you. Really now, you’re all being quite rude,” He said, pointing a hand holding a bloody pair of forceps at us. “I’m performing quite the service for you, you know. I was paid good coin for similar procedures in life and here I am doing it for free.”

Hook raised his free hand and made a soothing gesture towards the Lich, while simultaneously shooting the three of us a nearly murderous look. He mouthed a sentence at us slowly.

‘Don’t antagonize him.’

Dusk, Sylvia, and I glanced at each other. I deliberately tried to calm myself as I smiled uneasily at the necromancer. “Ah…we apologize. Thank you for attending to our companion, Mr…?”

The Lich paused for a moment, tapping his skull over where his lips would be with one free hand. “Ah. I haven’t thought of names in quite some time. Hmm…” He said slowly, before making an amused noise. “I have an idea. You may call me Tlazocuauhtli, in honor of the city we reside under. Tlazo for short, as I doubt any of you are very familiar with Orcish.” He outright laughed then, the hollow noise echoing oddly off the stone walls of the cavern. ‘Tlazo’ paused at our perplexed expressions before shrugging. “The joke doesn’t translate well into Common.”

“I…see,” I said slowly, to the obviously insane necromancer. “So…Hook, our friend will be healed when you’re finished?”

“Yes, yes,” Tlazo said idly, bending back down to dig around in Hooks abdomen. “Well, not outright healed. I have no talent in that school of Magic. Rather, I will mend what I can while keeping him alive. When the procedure is complete, I will then graciously provide a potion to help him along and let his Status do the rest of the work. The dwarf shall be quite weakened for some time afterward, but he will recover. Eventually.”

I tried to keep it in. I really, really did.

But I had to know.

“Sir?” I asked tentatively, causing one of his glowing blue orbs to look up at me. “What are you doing down here? It’s just…we were ambushed by quite a number of undead before this and…”

“And you want to know if they were mine,” Tlazo answered, audibly bored. He fully raised his head, while two of his arms worked on autopilot with a set of needle and thread, stitching up something inside Hook without even looking. “Well, not entirely. Those are little better than semi-wild automatons, risen from being within the zone of my influence. I think of them as being wild hounds that keep the riff-raff away.”

“Those 'wild-hounds' nearly killed us,” Sylvia said quietly.

The Lich made a dismissive noise. “And? I’m not the one barging into someone else’s home. Don’t complain when the local wildlife tries to take a bite out of you. Really, it’s not much more different down here than a particularly musty jungle. Kill or be killed, as they say. Brace yourself, this will feel quite odd,” He said to the very attentive Hook. The dwarf tensed up as Tlazo ran a hand up and down the length of Hook’s apparently shattered left arm, a green glow affecting it. There was an odd crunching sound, like dozens of bones setting themselves back into place.

Hook shuddered. In fact, I shuddered as well.

“I’m not above sending grave diggers on their way if they manage to make it all the way down to my lab, however,” Tlazo said idly, spooling out another length of thread and resuming his stitching. “Well done and all that, etcetera, etcetera.”

“We’re not grave diggers,” I said, a little incredulous. “We’re just…” I winced and quieted under the harsh stare that Dusk sent me.

Tlazo paused for a moment, looking up at me. If he still had them, I’m sure the Lich would have been raising an eyebrow. “Just?”

I didn’t know what to say. Luckily, I didn’t have to say anything.

Hook unexpectedly coughed, his lungs apparently re-inflating. Leaning over the side of the slab he was on, he spat out a disgusting hunk of dark red blood and meat. Taking a deeper, clearer breath, he answered the Lich. “Taking the back path into Tlatec,” He said hoarsely.

“Oh?” Tlazo asked curiously. “The Orcs have shut their gates? Why?”

“Because…there’s a war on?”

“Oh. Ugh,” Tlazo literally waved my words off with one of his free hands, suddenly disinterested. “How pedestrian. I was hoping something more interesting was happening.”

I…guess a Lich located in an underground tomb wouldn’t know all that much about what was going on with the surface world.

However, he was interested in something else.

Or rather, someone.

“My dear, I have to say you intrigue me,” Tlazo said suddenly, casting a gaze over Sylvia. She tensed at his regard. “I can’t quite feel your bones. And…that’s quite a well-done illusion you have over yourself, for your level. Whatever could you be hiding?” Before she could even answer, the Lich waved his hand.

And the human-seeming illusion that Sylvia had been wearing since we’d arrived outside Elderwyck shimmered away. Her true Mithril self was reavealed, shining silver in the odd green light of the necromancer's torches.

The firey blue orbs set into Tlazo’s skull shut on and off a few times, as if he was blinking. “What? Did you perhaps transmute your entire body, young lady? That would be quite a feat, I must say.”

Did…this guy know nothing about the Sculpted?

How long had he been down here?

As Sylvia began to haltingly describe what the Sculpted were to a suddenly enraptured Tlazo, I wondered if it was a good idea to be telling him.

What good could come from an apparently powerful Lich becoming interested in the living again?

<<Chapter 170 | Table of Contents | Chapter 172>>

Chapter 170 - Fading Trail

I only had seconds to react, but thank God for Ringed Mind.

Split-second decisions were what it was good for.

I lunged for Sylvia as the ground began to fall beneath us, grabbing her in my left arm seconds before we fell into darkness. She was startled, but almost instinctually grabbed onto me as well. At the same time, I aimed my right arm up above up, palm open, and cast the Skill that I was hoping would save us.

Thorn Grapple.

Please, please let the ceiling be strong enough to hold our combined weight.

The thorny head of my grapple skill exploded from in front of my palm, racing above me. It pierced straight into the stone, lodging firming inside. I jerked to a halt with Sylvia held in my arms. I grimaced from the added weight, flaring Sylvan Vigor once again in order to withstand her Mythril form.

I was startled when I felt a second weight latch onto my back, but although I was momentarily afraid that it was a zombie, I was too busy watching what else was happening.

The entire hallway floor was crumbling before my eyes.

Not only was the section that we had been standing on falling away into an unexpected pit beneath us, but the rest of it as well. The mounds of undead that we had slain were falling into the darkness as well as the stone, all the while continuing to make no noise whatsoever. They disappeared into the blackness, tumbling in the hundreds. I was even able to see as even more of them than I was expecting were revealed to have been beyond our unintentional makeshift barricades. They, too, fell out of sight.

Unfortunately…

Hook fell with him.

I was only able to meet his startled eyes once before he began to fall out of sight. As my dwarven commander started to sink into the gloom of the unforeseen shaft that had been revealed beneath us, I thought I saw his black eyes shift into a form of resignation.

The last thing I saw from him was an almost wry nod of acknowledgment before he sank out of sight.

My breaths hung heavy in my chest from the strain of everything that was being supported by my right arm. Jerkily turning my head to see what was on my back, I found that Dusk had reacted in time to jump onto my back before she joined Hook in the plunge. The normally taciturn Gnoll woman’s eyes had disappeared, and shock had filled them instead.

Even though we were had been freed from the threat of being eaten by undead, we had another problem now. Before the girls could even speak, I grit it out behind clenched teeth. “I…can’t…hold…us…forever…”

Sylvia’s crystalline blue eyes widened in alarm, before she looked around wildly for a solution, in an uncharacteristic display of panic from her. There wasn’t much to be found up here, however. The walkway of the corridor we had been ambushed in was gone for dozens of feet in either direction, and on the slim patch’s of stone that we could see in the distance? There were just more damn undead waiting on the edge.

I don’t know if we had just saved or doomed ourselves.

Dusk had one an idea, though

“Can your skill go down?” She asked tersely.

I nodded jerkily, but it was Sylvia who spoke. “We don’t know how deep that pit goes,” She whispered furiously. “It could go for miles.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Dusk bit back, surprisingly just as heated. “It’s the only way, and we have to find Hook.”

If he was still alive from that fall.

I interrupted their inopportune argument. “I can…do it…” I grit out, letting out more length from the vine that was supporting us. We jerked downwards for a moment, causing me to almost lose my grip on Sylvia. Thankfully, she was clutching me so strongly I was worried for the integrity of my ribs. I concentrated harder, bending all three rings of my mind to lowering us in a smoother manner.

As we descended into the blackness below us, the light skills that Sylvia and Dusk had maintained illuminated the pit better. I was starting to suspect this at least wasn’t part of a theoretical Necromancer’s trap.

It looked more like the deeper sections of the mausoleum had just collapsed in on themselves.

I could vaguely make out the structure of a spiraling path that had failed, leaving only a few curved sections embedded in the walls. There were still some alcoves that held preserved orcish bodies, but for the most part they were broken and empty as well. The distant walls of the destroyed complex were visible in the light from my female companions Skills.

A distant, howling wind echoed all around us, coming up from somewhere far below us. I was nearly blown off course several times from the pressure, but managed to maintain my grip on the skill. This was by far the longest section of vine I had ever released from the skill, and frankly I was surprised that it was even capable of this.

We had been descending for some time now after all. Almost a mile, as Sylvia had predicted. We were deep beneath the surface by now.

God, I had no idea how we were going to get out of here. Hook hadn’t told us exactly where the entrance into Tlatec was.

I hoped it wasn’t somewhere above us.

While I was focused on guiding us downwards, eventually I heard Sylvia let out a sigh of relief. “We’re nearly to the ground,” She murmured into my left ear.

Thank fuck. My arm was killing me, and I was pretty sure it had popped out of its socket from the strain it was under. I didn’t think that anything else had ripped, but thankfully I had a few Healing Potions on me in case it did.

Eventually, our descent came to a stop.

I wasn’t able to watch it happen, but I felt it when my feet touched down on the rocky stone of what must be the ground. As Sylvia and Dusk stopped clinging to me and hopped off of my exhausted form, I released the iron grip I had on my Skill. The long, long, long vine that stretched out into the darkness above us vanished into a haze of Ather.

I, meanwhile, slumped to my knees, my right arm boneless and very obviously dislocated. I sat there boneless while Sylvia and Dusk inspected it.

Dusk hummed, gingerly reaching out to grab it. Thankfully, it was numb enough from the exertion that it had been placed under that I only felt a brief spike of pain.

I still felt it when she unceremoniously shoved it back into its socket, though. I yelped like a struck dog, suddenly very much feeling the entire strain the limb had been placed under. I tried to glare up at the Gnoll who had just manhandled me, but she had already turned away and started to inspect our surroundings.

Sylvia just sighed, and helped me to my feet. “Are you alright, Nathan?” She murmured.

I clumsily dug around in my supply pouch, digging out one of my Healing Potions. I smiled weakly at her. “I will be,” I said, as I popped the cork on the glass bottle. I slugged the cherry red potion back, and almost immediately started to feel better.

Putting Dusk’s behavior out of my mind, I did my best to look around the cavern that I had lowered us into.

It was…pretty big.

It was far larger in here than I was expecting, and that was before I counted just how far down we’d gone. The surrounding area was littered with both the still forms of hundreds of deceased undead, but also rock and stone. It littered ever surface, and I don’t think it was just from the floor Hook had broken.

Said dwarf was nowhere to be seen.

Dusk cursed softly from her position kneeling in the darkness, lit only by the light of her skill. She looked up, and somehow met my eyes in the gloom. “He is not here,” She said with a frown.

“Isn’t…that good?” I asked hesitantly. “It could mean that he survived the fall and…wandered off…” I trailed away. That sounded unlikely to my ears.

Still, Dusk shook her head. “No, he would not do that,” She answered with certainty in her voice. “If he was able, he would have waited for us.”

“Then what happened to him?” Sylvia asked, brow furrowed.

Dusk was silent for a moment. “Look around,” She said abruptly. “Try and find his trail.”

Exchanging a glance with Sylvia, we wordlessly got to work. I had to keep near Sylvia as we searched, as I still didn’t have a light Skill of my own, despite several people vowing to help me achieve one. I guess it had just fallen to the wayside, with everything that was going on.

I swear to God, I was going to make it a priority for me to get a light Skill if I ever got out of here. More than winning the war, or toppling Elderwyck, or even going on a real date with Sylvia.

I was getting that damn light Skill.

As we searched, something was niggling at my brain. For a moment, I thought it was just an idea rattling around in one of my rings, but no. I eventually placed it as one of my newer passive Skills, and something that I hadn’t really had much use for yet.

Lifeblood Sense.

When I realized what it was, I stopped Sylvia and did my best to follow the direction it was leading me in. Wandering out into the darkness followed by my partner’s light, I eventually stopped near a pile of freshly fallen debris. Kneeling down, I found what my Skill had led me towards.

On a shattered flagstone was a small pool of blood that gleamed crimson in the light of Sylvia’s Skill.

I blinked in surprise at the thought. Lifeblood Sense had literally led me to a patch of…lifeblood, I guess. Touching it, I could feel that the blood was still slightly warm. In my mind, I could recognize now that the sense I had of the liquid was slightly dissipating as time went on as well. I guess that meant the Skill could sense blood both when it was in the bodies of others, and outside, if it meant the blood was still warm a little.

But more importantly, I could sense a slight trail that led away from the stone it rested on. It was fading, though.

Fast.

I cursed, standing up rapidly. “Dusk, over here!” I called urgently. Without even waiting for her to show up, I scrambled over the rock and tried to track the fading blood. “Follow us!”

Following the trail, I found that it led to a small tunnel set into the wall of the cave-in. This did not look like something that had been apart of the mausoleum. It looked newer, and far rougher hewn.

But the trail of blood led into it, so…

I followed as quickly as I could, Sylvia hot behind me. I hadn’t even told her what I’d discovered, but she had followed without even blinking. I felt a burst of affection for her at the faith, but squashed it for now.

I could tell her how thankful for it I was later.

Dusk caught up to us as we hurried through the tunnel, and after a brief description of what I’d found, didn’t bother asking more questions. We really had to hurry. The trail was growing literally colder every moment we didn’t find Hook, and this wasn’t a simple tunnel. There were a number of different side branches that we encountered as we braved its depths. It twisted and turned all around us, and the only reason I was able to navigate it was because of the bloody trail I could faintly sense.

Abruptly, the trail ended. But…that was fine.

We had reached the exit, after minutes of frantic sprinting through the tunnels. We hadn’t bothered being stealthy as we did so, despite our occupations. Whatever was down here…whatever had taken Hook?

They had to know we were coming.

The tunnel opened up into a large chamber, looking like it was both part of the mausoleum, and had been altered by other hands. It was surprisingly tidy at the entrance, with none of the debris that I would have expected in here. But what we did find, was all the more spine-chilling.

Acting as a near honor guard was a long, unbroken line of undead on either side of the tunnel exit. They stretched out into the chamber forming a kind of walkway that we were clearly supposed to follow. But…these undead weren’t hostile, like the ones above had been. They looked the same, they just weren’t reacting at all to our presence. The undead orcs just stared out into space, utterly still.

Their eyes still glowed with the same blue fire as the others had, though.

Sylvia took a long, extraneous breath at the sight of them. “I suppose the Necromancer knows we’re here, then,” She said, with a slight tremor in her voice.

I had been struck dumb by the sight, but Dusk was made of sterner stuff than I’d been expecting. With narrowed eyes, she stepped onto the trail marked by the undead. She marched down it with heavy steps, leaving Sylvia and I to scramble to keep up with her. I’m not sure she even noticed though.

“Oh, this is a bad idea,” I murmured to myself, as we followed the path so carefully laid out for us.

I wasn’t expecting a response.

“Do calm down,” I heard a refined, male voice echo out from somewhere in front of us. Before I could even process that, the path of the undead ended.

And we saw our Necromancer. Only…

That wasn’t all they were.

Dusk’s steps finally stuttered, as we all beheld what Hook had suspected as down here.

“Lich…” She breathed fearfully.

Oh.

Damn.

<<Interlude 10 | Table of Contents | Chapter 171>>

Interlude 10 - Burning Hels

The plains before the southern outer wall of Helstein teemed with an endless, roiling horde of monsters. They stretched out as far as the eye could see, even with a high Perception Virtue. Under the light of both Elys above and the massive bonfires that the Uprising forces had built on the wall, strange shadows played against said wall.

Impossible to individually count, they must have numbered well into the hundreds of thousands.

Greycton of Hollow Hill leaned upon the staff his beloved had gifted him all those years ago, and frowned.

Gods, what a mess.

The retreating Army of the Uprising had reached the city only yesterday and had promptly collapsed into its walls. The battle to enter the city itself had been the fiercest fighting of the entire grinding, horrendous week-long retreat back to the safety of the walls. Greycton would even place the chaos of trying to usher every last surviving Uprising soldier through the gates of Helstein as one of the…top three most difficult battles of his long life?

Well.

Perhaps top five.

Luckily, they had succeeded in slamming the enormous, sturdy doors of Helstein behind them without flooding the terrified city of the damned monsters the Loyalists had spun into being. Afterward, he, Leopold, and the boy prince had agreed to grant the exhausted soldiery at least a day's rest. After how hard they had been pushed when quite a distressing number of his warriors had simply laid down and died?

They deserved that much.

The division left to guard Helstein in their absence had picked up the slack. While nobody dared to actually enter into those fields, there were thousands of soldiers who were even now manning the walls around him. Whoever was capable was firing down ranged skills in the mass, not even bothering to aim as they’d surely hit something. There were just as many all over the walls using long spears to thrust down at the monsters that were trying to scrabble up it. So many monsters were down below that a distressing amount were trying to clamber over each other. It had formed a large wedge at the base of the wall that threatened to form a ramp to the very top.

Obviously, that couldn’t be allowed.

Anti-siege weaponry meant to repel human invaders was instead being turned on masses of monsters. Vats of boiling oil were poured onto screeching beasts, while alchemical explosives were thrown into the wedge to disrupt it. Catapults and ballistas were endlessly repeating, throwing out boulders and bolts at as fast of a rate as they could manage.

Hell, some people weren’t even bothering with the catapults. They were just dropping boulders into the mass.

It would probably crush something.

But…

They were handling it. For as endless as the horde of monsters appeared to be, they were thankfully unintelligent. While they had been birthed into a relatively high Aether zone for Vereden, they were just too young to have developed any semblance of guile. The best they could do was charge and scramble at the walls uselessly.

The Uprising could handle this.

Eventually.

However, Greycton couldn’t enjoy their inevitable victory.

Because both his daughter and his apprentice had been separated from him. They were far beyond his reach by now. From his understanding, they could even be inside the walls of Elderwyck at this very moment, risking their lives to bring it down from the inside.

Greycton tightened his grip on Elarux, as he glowered out at the horde standing between him and those two children. He would have said it had been a long time since he’d felt this powerless, but well.

He had just been branded as a slave of all things, only a few months ago.

Truly, this was shaping up to be a horrible year. It was only thanks to the cool light of Elys shining down upon him from the heavens that he wasn’t doing something…rash, right about now. For a moment, as the silver glow of his beloved illuminated his brooding form, the radiance thickened. Briefly, Greycton felt an ethereal hand caress his cheek in a wordless gesture of comfort.

He raised his free hand to cup its gleam in thanks, raising his eyes from the field to gaze upon Elys instead. The rocky surface of his dear one seemed to pulse at his regard, though Greycton knew that he would be the only one to see such a thing. He let out a long, slow sigh, letting the tension ease somewhat from his increasingly creaky form. He smiled slightly. “Thank you, my love,” He whispered into the night air.

Elys twinkled one last time, almost playfully, before Greycton felt her attention shift away from him. He didn’t blame her for it. She was busy, after all.

They both were.

Always, endlessly busy.

Greycton heard a pair of sandaled feet tromp up the stairs behind him, in a rhythm he had long since grown accustomed to. He didn’t need to turn to see, in order to know who it was. He would recognize the gait of the person approaching him almost better than any other in the world.

Wordlessly, Honoka appeared at his side to gaze out at the plains filled to the brim with monsters. She spat rather indelicately off to the side after a moment of shared silence. “What a shitshow,” She finally said.

A brief smile touched Greycton’s lips at the familiar crudeness of his oldest surviving friend. “Indeed,” He said dryly, before finally turning to face her. He paused at her appearance, a tad taken aback.

Honoka hadn’t even bothered to change out of her surgeon's whites. The typically pristine white of the Healing robes was caked with the blood and gore of the no doubt countless patients she’d been treating. Greycton felt a pang of shame. While he had been up here, uselessly brooding about Sylvia and Nathan, no doubt Honoka had been busy saving lives.

It was a familiar regret. He had long since hated how inept he was at the Healing arts, no matter how hard he studied and practiced. Alas, that field of Mysticality was barred from him.

Honoka didn’t turn to face him, but he did see her eyes shift his way. “You going to do something about it?” She asked bluntly.

“Do something, hmm?” Greycton murmured, with the slightest of laughs. Nevertheless, he nodded. “I was…considering it. There are other factors in play.”

Honoka scoffed. “Other factors my ass. You know as well I do that we both could wipe out most of this trash in a matter of days. It’s nothing but a bunch of garbage monsters meant to hassle the weak. The only reason we didn’t already do it was because it would have taken out the Army as well.”

Greycton finally turned to face her with a raised eyebrow. “The only reason, eh?”

A scowl was his answer, his oldest friend already understanding the reasons why he hadn’t stepped in and dealt with this rabble.

Still, the both of them knew that he liked to hear himself talk. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have become a teacher.

“As much as I wish otherwise, this is an unprecedented opportunity for the forces of the Uprising,” Greycton lectured patiently, causing Honoka to roll her eyes. “Neither of us have ever seen such a ludicrous amount of ‘trash’ monsters, as you so eloquently put it. They’re so conveniently bunched up in one place, waiting to be fed to my-our forces,” He corrected himself. “It would be such a monumental waste for us to steal this from them.”

Still, the way Honoka hadn’t already started sweeping the fields with waves of fire told him all he needed to know. She agreed with him, albeit begrudgingly. With a sigh, the Kawamaran woman leaned her forearms against the top of the wall and looked out over the fields. “I’m…a bit jealous of them, actually,” She admitted quietly. “We sure as hell never had an opportunity like this. The closest thing we got was the damned Sea Beast and its spawn.”

Setting Elarux up against the wall, Greycton leaned his back up against the wall and looked out over the city of Helstein. The Citadel in the distance loomed large and imposing. Well, at least to some.

Greycton just thought it was impossibly ugly. He felt a pang of homesickness for his much more aesthetically pleasing Academy. He pushed it away.

“Still,” Honoka frowned at him. “We should at least thin the herd a little. Don’t think I can’t tell that you’re antsy to get out from behind these walls again. We both know that the children are going to need help eventually.”

Greycton nodded slightly, sighing. “Perhaps…just a little,” He paused for a moment, an idea occurring. He smirked at Honoka, suddenly feeling surprisingly playful. “You know…there’s a certain combination SpellArt that we haven’t done in some time. It’s not too powerful. It would work to soften this horde up enough that we should be out of here shortly.”

Honoka tilted her head in thought for a moment, before a smile stole across her face. To some, it would look surprisingly vicious.

To him, though, it was almost nostalgic.

“I know exactly what you’re talking about,” Honoka replied, surprisingly impishly. She straightened up from her slouching position and looked around for a moment. Eventually, her gaze fell on a nearby flat-topped tower not far from their position, where a group of burly soldiers were hurling boulders down at the horde. “There. Nothing up there that’ll be missed. Let’s go.” With an empowered leap, the woman bounded away immediately, always willing to enact a little destruction.

Greycton shook his head with a fond smile and followed after her. He wasn’t the type to go bounding around like that, though. He had his own method of getting around short distances, that he had quite missed in his disempowered state.

Picking up Elarux, with a brief flicker of concentration, Greycton stepped…

Out.

From one moment to the next, he found himself in a pitch-black void, filled with the distance specks of light that denoted far-away stars.

He felt a ghostly figure embrace him from behind, so similar to the hand he had felt earlier.

Always happy to see you, lover, an ethereally beautiful voice whispered in his ears.

Greycton twisted his head slightly to meet the shining silver eyes he loved so dearly, already starting to feel the strain of merely existing in this realm.

He winked at the ghostly form of Elys.

She winked back.

With another step, Greycton found himself standing next to Honoka on top of the tower.

Not even a second had passed since his translocation.

The soldiers occupying the tower were startled to see them but were more than happy to take a break from their work when asked to. By the time the last of the mixed humans and Sculpted had cleared off down the ladder, he and Honoka were standing on the edge looking out.

“You ready for this, you geezer?” Honoka asked him, almost breathless in anticipation. He didn’t blame her. It wasn’t often that they could really cut loose like this. And with how they had been so recently depowered, Greycton thought they both needed the reassurance that a flex of their might would bring.

Plus, this world needed a reminder of just what Greycton of the Shadowed Sun and Scarlet Empress Honoka could do.

Greycton took a deep breath and allowed a viscous smile to cross his face as he employed a familiar mental Skill. His mind spun up first into two and then three and more and more and more trains of thought, all bent to bending reality to his will. The shadowy silver core at the heart of his soul flared brighter and brighter, as he felt the manifestation of his Mantle flared into being around him.

The world darkened, the night growing deeper in a murk that could not be pierced by most mortal eyes.

He was already feeling centuries younger.

“More than, you walking fossil,” He bantered back.

Honoka threw back her head and laughed as she loosened the reins on her own Mantle. She flared into brilliance next to him, three sets of two fiery scarlet wings erupting from her back. The woman shone like a star, blazing through the gloom of his soul. She drew Kasai from its ever-present place on her back, the blade blazing into being with a white-hot radiance and held before her, waiting for him.

He had always thought it appropriate how their own unique brands of Mysticality complimented each other like this.

In a moment of concentration of countless thought cycles, the spell matrix that he had crafted so long ago to work with Honoka sprang to being. Elarux began to glow in a cold dark light.

He raised it and crossed his staff with Honoka’s sword.

At the point that they met, a spark.

Far out into the battlefield, a star bloomed into being, nearly as large as the citadel itself. Pulses of searing hot silver flames pulsed out from it, turning uncountable monsters into so much ash.

Night turned into day from the combination of their might.

Honoka started laughing in exhilaration, and Greycton joined her.

<<Chapter 169 | Table of Contents | Chapter 170>>

Chapter 169 - Battle in the Dark

“Whisper, with me,” Hook said lowly, maneuvering himself into the combat stance I’d seen from him so many times in training. “Hangman, Dusk. You take the rear. And remember…aim for the head.”

As Sylvia split off and joined the leader of the Nocturne Division, I turned around. Eyeing the confined tunnel we were in, I grimaced. We had so little room to maneuver in here. Luckily, I’d been so paranoid during our search that I’d had a realization about the possibility of combat in here. While I’d been practicing heavily on using the dagger forms of my weapons, I didn’t consider that my primary form of combat.

I thought of myself as a spearman. And while the corridor was so cramped that Dusk and I were practically shoulder to shoulder, so were the advancing undead.

Long, straight lines of attack were perfect for spears.

I extended my right Oninite blade and lowered it towards the advancing horde. At the same time, I flipped my left dagger around and extended it as well. While I couldn’t exactly fight with two spears, I wasn’t alone.

Without a word, I handed the spare over to Dusk. She took it with a small nod, immediately understanding my plan.

The flesh of these creatures looked too thin and weak to bother with needing The Scintillant Blade. Luckily, I had a new weapon enhancement skill.

For the first time, I activated Grinding Crimson Sunder in battle.

The blue-black blade of my Oninite spear erupted into a furious, roiling, glowing mass of ethereally vicious thorns. They clung to the edge of the blade, grinding against each other endlessly in a manner not dissimilar to that of a chainsaw.

A low whine filled the air.

To my side, I noticed that the blade of the spear that I had given to Dusk had been surrounded by its own aura. Oily black smoke engulfed it, dripping onto the stone below from how thick it was.

At that, there was no more time for words. No more time for planning or wondering where these monsters had come from.

There was only battle.

I jabbed forward with my spear as soon as the first undead was in range, the crimson light of my skill briefly illuminating the monster. While the arms of this long-dead orc were longer than my own, thankfully the added length of my spear bypassed their grasping length. However, my aim was slightly off.

The shearing length of my spear pierced through the neck of the zombie. In a moment, my Skill had worked to almost completely remove its head.

Almost.

The partially decapitated head listed to hang upside down to its left side, only barely still attached by the slightest stretch of paper-thin skin. But still, those eerie blue lights shone in its empty eye sockets. The once-orc shuffled forward one more step, paying no mind to the blade that had nearly removed its head.

I snarled in adrenaline-filled fury, broke out of my shock, and finished the job. The head fell to the floor, followed closely by the body, slumping to its desiccated knees. The undead behind it didn’t care about how I’d just finished off its fellow corpse. It just stepped forward over the beheaded mass of former orc.

Not once did any of them make a single noise. Not a moan, or a groan, or even the slightest exhalation of air from long stilled lungs. They simply shuffled forward, grasping endlessly for the living with outstretched arms, long withered from the touch of death.

I stepped forward to meet them, buoyed by how easily my new Skill had carved through the first one.

Dusk had already killed three of them in the time it took me to kill one.

Well, I couldn’t have that.

I lunged forward up under grasping limbs and repeated the job.

This process itself repeated for…I don’t know how long. It was hard to tell time like that in the middle of battle.

Lunge, jab, decapitate.

Lunge, jab, decapitate.

Lunge, jab, decapitate.

Despite the narrow confines of our environment, it almost seemed like the horde of undead was endless. Where were all of them coming from? Dusk and I had gone through dozens of them by now, which wasn’t counting what Hook and Sylvia were putting down. In a brief moment of rest, I had looked over my shoulder to find that it looked like they’d destroyed more of them than Dusk and I had. This was far, far more corpses than were contained in this one small corridor. Just how many of the resting orcs that we’d passed on the way in had been dominated by the Necromancer Hook had suspicions about?

Did they have control of the entire mausoleum?

No…

This wasn’t a mausoleum.

This was a Necropolis.

A monument to the dead, and a house of worship to the twisted and insane.

Eventually, I slipped up. I had grown too complacent, even if the thoughts racing through my head were confined to the depths of my rings. The rhythm I had fallen into was broken.

An unnaturally strong limb clamped down onto my golden left limb, concealed beneath a black leather elbow-length glove. I instantly activated Sylvan Vigor for the first time in the fight, blasting it all the way up to max power. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to break the death grip that the undead had on my false limb.

I expected the monster to try and take a bite out of me then, but something else happened. Something nearly worse.

The jaw of the zombie that had hold of me creaked open, exposing an eerie blue light at the back of its pallid and withered throat. For the first time, one of these creatures used its lungs.

It inhaled, and instead of air entering its lungs, Aether flowed into it.

Mine.

To my alarm, I felt the very foundations of my soul begin to be drained of its vitality. Instead of trying to consume my flesh, this undead was trying to devour my very spirit. If I didn’t do anything, this monster was going to drain my soul of every last drop of Aether and I’d soon be dead.

Fuck that.

Dropping my spear momentarily, I weakly reached over and did something I never had.

I thumbed the release rune at the base of my artificial limb.

With a clicking noise, the mechanism that held the gold and Mythril arm attached to its socket came undone. I immediately staggered back, free from the hold of the undead. The monster reeled back as well, breaking the feeding connection that it had on me. As soon as I was free, I raised my remaining arm, fingers pointing toward the head of the undead that had nearly killed me.

Poisonthorn Shot.

The familiar form of my skill materialized before my fingers and immediately shot straight at my target. Its head snaped back, impaled by the nearly forearm-sized blood-red thorn. In moments, the corrosive poison of the Skill had completely dissolved its withered face. Apparently, that was enough to end it, as it slumped to its knees, still clutching my prosthetic.

Shit. I couldn’t lose that. I didn’t have a replacement.

Before another undead could advance, I stumblingly grabbed my still-extended spear and nearly dived for the limb. I managed to grab it out of the hands of the inert zombie, but another was already lurching my way, arms extended. I grimaced and tried to raise my hand to fire off another thorn, but I wasn’t sure I had the strength for it right now, so soon after my draining and the other use of the skill.

Thankfully, I wasn’t fighting alone.

My other spear sailed over my head, coated in an inky smoke that sizzled in the dim light that we fought by. It neatly pierced through the neck of the undead grasping for me, severing its head instantly. I didn’t waste the chance and scrambled backward.

Dusk advanced before I could even thank her, wielding my own spear with a finesse that I wasn’t capable of yet. I wasn’t even able to thank her before the Gnoll woman had waded into the thick of the horde, gracefully dodging their grasping hands. At the same time she was using my spear with her left hand, I watched as she lashed out at nearby undead with the claws of her hand. Those digits were also trailing the same corrosive black smoke as the spear, and rapidly rotting through the dozens of undead throats. It almost seemed like she was more than able to deal with the lot of them with no help from me.

My eyes narrowed. The hell she was.

I refused to be dead weight.

Jamming my prosthetic back onto its base, I bore through the flash of pain that resulted from my nerves being magically reconnected to the false touch of my golden fingers. Flexing them, I gripped my spear and charged back into the fray.

The cycle continued.

Lunge, jab, decapitate.

Lunge, jab, decapitate.

Lunge, jab, decapitate.

A problem arose. We had killed so many undead by this point that their corpses were crowding the floor of the narrow hallway. It was impossible to advance any more, and so we held our positions and did our best to handle the monsters as they advanced on us. Our footing was treacherous now, and it only grew more so.

The problem worsened. We were now lashing out over a mound of undead corpses that were waist-high by now. But the stream of them never stopped coming. The newer ones were simply crawling over top of their fellows, endlessly grasping for the vitality inherent in our souls. I didn’t even know how long we’d been fighting at this point. For all I knew, it might have been hours. But…it couldn’t have been, right? I’m not sure I had that much stamina for such a protracted battle.

At last, the problem hit its peak.

The wall of corpses that had grown in front of us reached near the ceiling by now. Withered grey hands wiggled through the small gap near the ceiling, trying to force their way through. But they couldn’t. The undead couldn’t force their way through.

This wasn’t a good thing…because it came with a problem.

Staggering back and desperately gulping down breaths of air, I looked over my shoulder. The same thing had repeated on Hook and Sylvia’s side. There was another wall of undead that they’d created from the hundreds that had been slain by now.

We were trapped, now.

Now that the fighting was over, a visibly weary Hook and Sylvia warily shuffled over to join Dusk and I.

“What…now…” I managed to croak out in between panting breaths.

“I should’ve seen this coming,” Hook said tiredly, slumping to sit on a nearby funerary slab bereft of its. “This is Necromancer tactics one-oh-one. If you can’t kill your target with your undead, exhaust them. Once they’re exhausted, drown them in even more rotting bodies.”

“We can’t get out,” Dusk said quietly, leaning on the shaft of my borrowed spear tiredly. “We…might be able to force our way through the horde with sufficiently powerful Arts or Spells, but…”

“Even more undead will just move in to fill the gap left in the breach,” Sylvia picked up, shuffling over to my position. "But beyond that, it might damage the hallway too much." Uncaring about Hook or Dusk’s opinion, she slumped against me. I gladly threaded my golden arm around her back in an embrace. I needed the reassurance as much as she did, after the grind of that battle.

“But we can’t stay here,” I said lowly. “Eventually, the press of more and more bodies on the other side will cause the 'walls' to collapse and then…”

As if to punctuate my statement, a desiccated hand succeeded in shoving a loose corpse free from the wall of its fellows blocking its path. It slowly crawled halfway through it, before Dusk speared its questing head. It slumped in place, more mortar for the grisly barricade.

“We really will drown under the weight of everything we killed,” Hook said grimly, shaking his head. “They’ll collapse over us, and we’ll suffocate to death. Well, most of us.” He said, with a bleak nod of his head towards Sylvia.

Sylvia smiled humorlessly. “I would join you soon,” She said quietly. “My soul would be dined upon not long afterward, and all that would be left is the Mythril of my body.”

I tightened my grip on her at the thought.

Hook stood up abruptly then, casting a gaze over us. “Alright then,” He said briskly. “Options? There must be a way out of this.”

Sylvia raised her head. “Could one of us force our way through, perhaps? If someone sought out the Necromancer in time, would killing them cause the undead to retreat?”

Dusk shook her furry head. “No, Necromancy doesn’t work that way. They’ve been given their commands, and they’ll follow them even past the death of their master.” She paused. “But…perhaps one of us could still force our way through? We could…inform the Orcs of the Necromancer and ask them to rescue everyone else?” She sounded doubtful of her own plan.

As expected, Hook just shook his head. “No, the Orcs wouldn’t care about us. They would come down and exterminate the unlicensed Necromancer, but they’d leave everyone else to die down here.”

While they debated plans, I was stuck on something else Dusk had said earlier. “Sufficiently powerful Arts or Spells…” I muttered to myself. My gaze drifted downwards, to rest on the stone of the corridor below.

“Something to add, Hangman?” I heard Hook ask me. Raising my head to meet his gaze, I nodded slowly.

“Instead of going through them, how about we…go around them?” I asked the group. “Hook, Dusk. Do you have anything that could punch through the walls or the floor?”

Hook and Dusk exchanged a glance at that, before both of them looked down. Dusk hummed in thought, before nodding slowly. “Yes, I believe I do. I’m…not sure what is behind either, however.”

“I do,” Hook said thoughtfully. “This entire complex is shaped like a spiral with branching paths, in case you didn’t notice. Below us should just be another floor of the mausoleum. That would bring us closer to the pathway into Tlatec, which is at the very bottom. We can't do the walls, though. These are solid rock with nothing beyond them. We’ll just have to watch out for more of these bastards below, but it’s better than staying here. Yes. This’ll work. Good thinking, Hangman.”

An air of tension that had fallen over the group at our confinement that I hadn’t even noticed eased, now that we had a plan.

“Stand back,” Hook said warningly to Sylvia, Dusk, and I. “I’m going to try and make as small of a hole as I can in the floor, so the whole damn thing doesn’t collapse under us.”

The three of us shuffled as far away as we could from Hook without getting in range of any questing hands poking through the undead wall. When we were clear, Hook kneeled down with one of his daggers extended. To my surprise, it lengthened into what looked like a blade of razor-sharp compressed air. The very wind of the corridor whistled and split over its surface from the intensity of its edge. Without another word, Hook slammed it into the stone below and began to try and saw a hole in the floor.

However…

I don’t know if it was just another layer to the Necromancer’s trap, or if it was just sheer bad luck on our part

Because when the stone beneath us was pierced?

The entire thing collapsed.

I only had time to meet Sylvia’s widening eyes once, before we all fell away into darkness.

<<Chapter 168 | Table of Contents | Interlude 10>>

Chapter 168 - Ruinous Haunts

The light from Sylvia’s Skill was dim, but it still allowed me to see the hallway around us as we descended. Thankfully, Hook and Dusk hadn’t gone very far. I would have been pretty pissed off if they had gone on ahead and left the two of us behind. As we linked back up with them, none of us spoke a word.

Even though we hadn’t gone too deep just yet, something about the atmosphere in here was oppressive enough that words escaped me. Empty sconces were illuminated on the walls, while cobwebs and dust caked every surface they could find purchase on.

The silence was all-encompassing.

Exchanging glances, we continued down the steps. As the group walked ever downwards, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the last time I had ventured into a tomb accompanied by a dwarf. Back in Hollow Hill, Azarus and I hadn’t known what we were getting into with the bunker. But we had been enthusiastic about it, even with as somber as the environs had turned out to be.

I didn’t feel any of that enthusiasm right now.

We had been descending for so long now that I was shocked when the stone stairs abruptly ended. We looked to have been deposited onto a landing of some kind, as not far from our position was what appeared to be a cracked and crumbling stone monument, shaped as a simple standing slab. Carved onto its surface were geometric patterns that combined in an…almost runic pattern, to my eyes. And yet these were not the linguistic runes that I was so used to by this point. It was a little disorienting, to see something in which I detected a hint of familiarity, but yet was so alien.

Beyond the monument stretched a long, dark hallway in which the light of our skills couldn’t pierce the gloom.

Still.

We couldn’t stop now.

Without a word from Hook, his floating light skill wobbled down the hallway past the monument.

We followed.

As we walked, I kept a paranoid eye on my surroundings. This left me with plenty of time to examine the mausoleum proper. To me, it didn’t look like the Orcs that had built this place used coffins in the same way that humans did. Instead, it almost looked like they…mummified their dead. Almost immediately after passing the monument, withered, cloth-wrapped corpses set into alcoves in the walls became visible. These alcoves were at least four high on each side of the hallway, with carvings in that same geometric runic script set into plaques next to each one.

What the hell was that language? It wasn’t being translated by Language Adaptation, so it must be runes of some sort. That was the only written language that wasn’t covered by the universal Skill. But long ago Grey had told me that the runic script that the people of Vereden had been handed down by the gods millenia ago, long before the War in Heaven. The Orcs were ruled by one of those remnant gods. How and why were they using a different script than one gifted by their very own goddess?

I…couldn’t help but notice a few other things, as well. The mummified corpses of the interred were visibly larger than any human I’d ever seen. The smallest one I saw, even as withered as it was, had to be over seven feet tall. Living Orcs had to be massive. These corpses alone were bigger than even Venix was.

The second thing I noticed was that some of the alcoves were absent of their occupants. Even if the slab had the runic name of an occupant carved into the stone plaque next to it.

I took a deep breath, and tried to put it out of my mind.

It only took a few feet for the hallway to begin to branch off, even as the main trunk began to wind in front of us. It felt like we began to encounter a new splinter off of the main hall every minute at this point. Some of them were blocked off, however. The ceiling had caved in on a few of these branching paths, leaving the opening obstructed with dusty red-brown stone and the dislodged corpses of the interred.

Hook, though, wasn’t deterred by any of this. He didn’t seem surprised by any of the signs of deterioration. He just kept walking on a beeline, leading us down the main hallway.

At least, initially.

Abruptly, the hall we were walking down ended in a cave-in. It had almost seemed to spring from nowhere. One moment, the hall was free and clear before our cautiously creeping forms. The next, blocked off by a wall of debris. It looked like the right wall had completely caved it, the victim of an extremely deeply reaching tree branch.

Hook cursed at the sight of it. “Damnit,” He whispered into the gloom. Even with as quiet as he was keeping his voice, it still echoed up and down the dead halls. The noise of his profanity returned to us, bounced off of distance stone walls almost mockingly.

Damnit damnit damnit, the mausoleum itself seemed to call back.

“This was our path forward,” Hook continued, ignoring the echoes.

I took a deep breath. “When, exactly, was the last time you were down here?” I muttered in a tone filled with strained patience.

“Ah…,” A note of almost-sheepishness filled Hooks's voice then. “About seventy years ago.”

“Seventy fucking years?!” I whispered furiously. “Of course it’s in worse shape now!”

“In fairness,” Dusk said, in a voice only slightly quieter than her already muted tone. “This tomb is over a millennium old. It is reasonable to assume drastic changes such as this would not occur in a fraction of that time.”

“Quiet,” Sylvia said sharply, holding her light higher. She peered into the darkness of a hallway that veered off to my left. “Listen.”

The three of us who were bickering feel silent. For a moment, the only thing that I could hear was my own breathing, as Syliva didn’t need to and Hook and Dusk had stopped. I joined them.

Absolute silence filled the halls of the mausoleum. My ears rang with the pumping of my own blood.

In the distance, far off in the distance on the path that Sylvia was staring down, I heard it.

A stone rattled, as if kicked by a foot.

Hook took a deep, slow breath. He stared down the path with narrowed eyes. “We can’t stop,” He said in a low tone.

“And we must keep moving forward,” Dusk picked up in a whisper.

I slowed my own pulse using my core ring, in a rare moment of control over my own physiological responses. “How familiar are you with these tunnels, Hook?”

Hook shook his head in response. “Not very. I only really know the straightforward path, and that’s bad enough. I deemed it too dangerous to explore this grave more than I did, all those years ago. But unfortunately, now we’re going to have to find another way forward.”

A humorless smile touched my lips, hidden from the others in the darkness. “Well. No time like the present, I suppose. Might as well start with this one.”

I saw the shadowed form of Hook’s head nod slightly in acknowledgment before he slowly stalked forward. Sylvia and I followed him, with Dusk deciding to bring up the rear.

We marched in formation silently, following the broad, squat back of the Nocturne Division lead. Gradually, our surroundings began to change. In the dim light provided by Hook and Sylvia’s Skills, I wasn’t able to realize what it was initially.

But my middle ring provided the answers.

The alcoves were starting to look more and more bare of occupants.

Judging by the tense posture of Hook before and Sylvia to my left, I wasn’t the only one to notice.

A scent filled the air abruptly, something I had never smelled before. I…didn’t know what to make of it.

It was dry, so impossibly dry. The slightest hint of rot and decay underlined it, just barely more than an impression of almost seemed like boiled bone. It was the scent of long-gone bad marrow that clued me on in it, you see.

I’d boiled more than a few bones for Fade, in the past.

Suddenly, ahead of us, Hook sent suddenly still. I couldn’t even see the rise and fall of his chest anymore. “Stop,” He said, in the barest suggestion of a whisper.

I froze, as did Sylvia to my side and Dusk behind me.

Over the top of Hooks head, his free-floating light Skill floated far enough ahead that its illumination seemed to be brushing just slightly against something. For a moment, I couldn’t understand what it was. To my eyes, it almost looked like a large crowd of grey pillars, standing tall and proud impossibly in the middle of our path.

Until one of those pillars shifted slightly.

Skitter skitter, went the rock that the withered foot of one of those ‘pillars’ had nudged.

Hook strengthened his light, without moving, breathing, or making any indication that he’d done so at all.

Suddenly, I could see what was before us much more clearly.

It was a crowd of what I could only describe as withered corpses, impossibly standing under their own power. But they were so, so, horrifically inhuman. The smallest of them was seven foot tall, with the largest being eight feet, their dessicated heads nearly brushing the ceiling. They were wrapped from head to toe in dusty linen bandages that hung loose on their paper-thin grey skin. It was stretched so tightly over their bones that all musculature looked to have been shriveled away, possibly centuries ago. No features were visible over those bones. No nose, no eyes, nothing to mark them as having been male or female when last they drew breath.

All that remained were monstrous undead, standing impossibly still and silent but for the occasional, slight shuffle.

My breath caught in my throat in horror. I lost my grip on my pulse as dread thundered across all levels of my ringed consciousness.

Unfortunately, I lost my grip on something else as well.

For the first time in my tenure as a warrior, from before I had been recruited as an Agent. From before Caer Drarrow, and all the battles I had been in. The lessons that Azarus had drilled into me time and time again in our training failed me.

The Oninite dagger in my right hand slipped from my hand, to clatter onto the stone of the floor below me.

The sound of the metal echoed up and down the halls, loud and clamorous. Sylvia and Hooks's heads snapped around to face me in startled panic and dismay, as I did the same at my hand that had betrayed me.

Rattle rattle rattle, the halls of the tomb seemed to mockingly echo back at me.

I scrambled to pick my blade back up, clenching a mortified hand tightly around the hilt.

When I straightened, I found that the skulls of the undead before us had turned to face our direction. In the depths of their empty eye-sockets, an eerie blue spark of fire began to burn. The front of the pack shuffled one foot forward, and its arm lifted in our direction. Its fingers curled into claws, as if to grasp at us.

Hook was the first to break out of our impromptu spell. “Back,” He said quietly. He began to shuffle backward without turning to face us. Sylvia and I were forced to move with him, or be forced to. “They’re not agitated yet, we can still disengage. They won’t pursue us if we don’t get any closer.”

Over top of his head, I could see more and more of the crowd of undead started to shuffle towards us slowly.

“Exactly how sure are you of that?” I asked him in a strained tone.

Hook didn’t answer me.

Dusk did.

“It doesn’t matter,” She said suddenly, in a tense voice. “We can’t retreat.”

I turned to ask what she was talking about, but as soon as I did, my question was answered without a word from her.

There was a second mass of undead slowly shuffling their way down the hallway behind us. At first, I was confused and terrified as to where they had come from. But then I watched as a corpse on the walls we had only just passed by suddenly animated and stood from its resting place.

It joined the group that was closing in on us, never making a sound.

My lips parted in shock at the sight.

“This,” Hook said, in a heavy voice behind me. “Is a trap. These aren’t naturally occurring undead.”

“There’s a Necromancer down here.”

<<Chapter 167 | Table of Contents | Chapter 169>>

Chapter 167 - Down, Down, Down...

“Wait wait wait,” I said uneasily as I hurried after the forms of Dusk and Hook. After our meeting in the tavern, we'd left immediately without resting in order to get into the city as quick as possible. Dusk was leading us through the Stacks like it was the back of her, even though she hadn't been here for very long. “You were joking, right? Funny ha ha, let’s play a joke on Nate? Undead aren’t a real thing…right?”

Hook just looked over his shoulder as we passed an impromptu food stand and smirked at me before turning back around. Dusk didn’t react at all, she just kept walking.

Sylvia meanwhile cut her eyes my way at the agitation in my voice. “Are you…alright?”

I felt my eyebrow twitch as I tried to smile at her. “He’s just messing with me, right? Undead aren’t a thing. That’s just ridiculous.”

Sylvia studied my face for a moment, before signaling for Hook and Dusk to stop for a moment. When they did, my partner grabbed my hand and dragged me into a nearby pseudo-alleyway in between two large wagons. She turned her still hooded head a few times to check if the coast was clear, before lowering said hood. I was finally able to see her illusioned face.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but I didn’t expect her to look like Honoka of all people.

Her skin was pale in the same manner as her mentors was, and her features were ever so slightly different than normal. Her eyes were a tad more almond shaped than they normally were while her lips looked to have been tinted darker with a cosmetic of some kind. Her normally golden hair had been darkened to a chocolate brown as well, but the style was mostly the same in a familiar high ponytail.

Her eyes were still the same crystalline blue color, though.

The difference was stark enough to knock me out of my anxiety. As it died down, I was finally able to get a handle on it with my middle ring. I took a deep breath as Sylvia studied me critically.

“Nathan, what’s going on?” She asked me with a frown. “You’ve been…off, ever since Hook described our next steps.”

I cringed slightly, before trying to smile at her. By the look on her illusioned features, it must have come out as more of a grimace. “Ah…sorry. It’s just an old childhood fear that I didn’t expect to get poked like that.”

Sylvia blinked at me in surprise. “You’re afraid of the undead?”

I ran a hand through my hair sheepishly. “Kind of? I saw a…kind of recorded play when I was younger that featured the undead. It,” I tilted my head trying to put into words what the zombie movies that my mom had loved had done to me as a kid. “Kind of messed me up. I…didn’t know that Vereden had anything like that.”

“Well…” Sylvia said slowly. “It does, but I don’t believe they’re common? I don’t personally know much about them. They were never a focus of my education and training.”

“The girl is right,” Hook's voice said from the mouth of the ‘alley’. Turning to look, I saw him standing there with his arms crossed and a frown on his lips. Dusk was watching placidly as well, seeming not to care about my mini-freakout. “They’re uncommon, but the kind we’re going to run into are…well. We can handle them. Now c’mon. We don’t have time for this.”

I took the rebuke as it was meant, and used my mental skill to suppress my emotions as much as I possibly could. When I was done, I nodded at Hook in acknowledgment to show I was ready.

Hook studied me for a moment, before nodding back. Without a word, he and Dusk turned around and walked away.

Sylvia and I followed along behind them.

…………………………….

Surprisingly, Hook led us back outside of the Stacks and into the countryside that surrounded them. However, before we left, we left our horses with an impromptu stable that had sprung up on the outskirts of the shantytown. It seemed a little sketchy to me, as the proprietor looked like an almost stereotypical criminal with rat-like dirty teeth and beedy black eyes. However, Hook spent a few minutes speaking with the man before we turned over the horses that the Thunderheart clan had gifted us.

I don’t know what Hook said to the man, but he was actually bowing and scraping to the dwarf afterward. He promised on his mother's life to look after our mounts.

I was skeptical, as this guy looked like the kind that would sell said mother for a single gold coin. But Hook was the boss, and we were in a hurry.

I said my goodbyes to Marquis and followed Hook out into the countryside.

Once we were out of the ill-defined limits of the Stacks, Hook elaborated more on our plan.

And why there were undead inside.

“The old mausoleum we’re heading to has a direct path inside the walls,” Hook said, marching up a hill with the rest of us following. “Problem is, it leads to Tlatec, and not into Elderwyck. They used to have ideas about expanding beyond their enclave long ago, well before my time. But they put an end to that when their Goddess decided Vereden wasn’t worth the effort, with the way its Aether density was so much lower. And thank fuck for that, or we might all be speaking Orcish right now. They used to have a small town out in this direction, and that town had a massive mausoleum that connected underground back into Tlatec itself. Records tell us that it was named Xolotlan.”

“And…why does it have undead in it?” I asked tentatively, struggling to keep up with the surprisingly quick pace the dwarf was setting. For such a small guy, his legs sure moved quickly.

Hook looked over his shoulder at me and snorted. “Because the Orcs have some incredibly messed up magics, that’s why,” He said bluntly. “The bastards are crazy about sacrifice, with entirely separate methodologies of Magic and Cultivation. They worship blood and battle as much as their remnant Goddess, and with that comes a ton of dead people. Some side effect of their kind of Mysticality is that their dead have a tendency to get up and start trying to take a bite out of other people. And they haven’t outlawed Necromancy like everyone else on Vereden has. It’s led to some nasty, nasty situations in the past.”

Yeah, I bet. That sounds like a nightmare.

“But we can’t do anything about it, because they could wipe out the combined forces of the Kingdom and the Principality without breaking a sweat,” Hook continued sourly. “They could probably deal with the monster horde too. In fact, I bet those assholes are pissed off that their treaty with us means they can’t ride out and drown in the waves of monsters.”

“And they’ll keep to that?” I asked curiously, as we topped the hill. I think I could see something down below us now. It might be the ruins of this town Hook was leading us to.

“Thankfully, yes,” Hook said, nodding. “But enough about that. We’re pretty much here. The entrance to the mausoleum is just down there. Hope you’re ready for a slog, people. Because it’s going to be a pain to get through those tunnels.”

Joy.

Before descending the hill, Hook instructed us to change out of the traveling clothes we had over our armor. We were long since out of sight of the Stacks by now, so it wasn’t an issue. We all walked into a small thicket that was on top of the hill, and emerged ready for battle. Dusk had the most striking transformation out of all of us, I thought. Gone was tawny-furred peasant woman in rags. In her place was the Agent I remembered back at headquarters, with impeccably groomed white fur. She even had her mask on, while Sylvia and I had elected to leave ours off. Once we were ready, an also re-masked Hook led the way down the hill.

Our group of four trudged down to walk into the barest hints of a long-abandoned settlement. Just barely visible through the tall grass were fragments and chunks of the same reddish brown stone that I had seen on the Orcish side of the wall. What I could see was weathered, time-worn, and not much larger than a man. There wasn’t a single surviving structure out here, which made me wonder just how long ago Xolotlan had been abandoned. Looking down, though, I thought I could just barely made out the impression of urban planning. The streets may have been long since destroyed by the growth of the grasslands, but the lines of the roads were still visible. If only slightly.

Hook led us down one of said long decayed streets, seeming like he knew exactly where he was going.

“Have you ever taken this path inside the walls before?” Sylvia asked the dwarf.

“I have, yes,” Hook said, nodding his head without looking back at us. “A long time ago, to be fair, but I really doubt the Orcs have closed it off. It would be really unlike them to dishonor their dead that way.”

“What, and letting them wander around as undead isn’t dishonoring them?” I asked him incredulously.

Hook stopped in the middle of what might have been a plot, centuries ago. Looking around, he answered me absentmindedly. “Not in the eyes of the Empire, no,” He paused for a moment before smiling slightly. “Aha! There it is.” He strode across the grass to…another patch of it, leaning over to clear it off. In moments he had uncovered a pair of large, worn-looking stone doors set into an equally large slab. It seemed like they were built with large metal rings to open them, but the left door was missing its handle. Only the right door still had its ring.

Hook grasped the ring and tried to lift the door up. It creaked and groaned, but eventually acquiesced to being opened. Halfway up, the ring snapped off of the surface with a ting of fractured metal. Luckily, Hook managed to catch the bottom of it before it could slam back down. With an effortless heave, Hook shoved the entrance fully open, sending the stone door that must have weighed several hundred pounds crashing to the ground on the other side of the entrance. He didn’t bother opening the other side, as the one he had opened was large enough for any of us.

Our group of four stood around for a moment, gazing down into the pitch-blackness of the entryway Hook had uncovered. The wind of the grasslands played across the portal of the hole, causing a low, almost moaning sound to echo outwards.

At least, I hoped it was just the wind.

After a moment of staring, Hook reached behind him and unsheathed his pair of dual daggers, before looking over his shoulder at us. “Weapons free, people. Because we’re going to need them down there.”

I copied the dwarf, drawing both of my extendable spears, right blade forward, left blade back. I don’t think I was going to be able to actually extend them in this crypt, though. What little I could see of the hall below looked to be very cramped quarters.

Meanwhile, Sylvia drew her short sword, so similar in hue to Grey’s own Stellarum. But curiously, Dusk didn’t draw anything. She just stood there placidly, not reacting to my curious stare. Hook noticed, however. He chortled. “Dusk doesn’t need a weapon. She prefers her own claws, don’t you Dusk?”

The Gnoll woman inclined her head slightly, but didn’t speak otherwise. That was something I was noticing about her. Dusk didn’t speak much, and when she did, it was typically terse.

With all four of us ready, Hook ignited a light skill or spell of some kind. It floated down the steps independent of him, with the spymaster trailing closely behind. Dusk moved in behind him, while Sylvia and I moved to follow them. We were stopped by Hook’s voice floating out of the darkness of the hall below. “Oh, and replace the door, will you? We shouldn’t leave it open. Both so we leave no trace, and so nothing can wander out.”

Looking over at the massive stone slab, I sighed. Thankfully, it had another ring on the inside surface of it. “I’ll take care of it,” I said to Sylvia. “You get going.”

Sylvia nodded at me and descended the steps, while I engaged Sylvan Vigor at half-strength. I grunted as I returned the stone door to its original position, closing it above me.

The world descended into darkness for a moment, before it was broken by a light blazing into being. Sylvia had stayed behind for me and was using the same light skill I had seen her use back on Caer Drarrow. She winked at me in the dim light it provided, before motioning forward. I followed her.

Down into darkness.

<<Chapter 166 | Table of Contents | Chapter 168>>

Chapter 166 - Dusky Doubts

As Hook, Sylvia, and I slowly slipped our way through the gathered crowds of refugees, I couldn’t help but notice the atmosphere out here.

It was, in a word, bad.

Which, no shit.

There was an air of combined desperation, resignation, and most importantly fear filling the air of the procession. All around me, I heard muffled sobs from inside covered wagons and the throats of desperate, tired-looking travelers. People trudged along on leaden feet with heads held low, while simultaneously doing their best not to alarm the many, many children that I saw being dragged along in their parent's wake. Children were more intelligent than most gave them credit for, so they were unusually solemn as well. I didn’t see any joy or excitement on the smallest faces that I passed by.

I grimaced.

And…I wasn’t exactly here to make their lives any easier. The entire purpose for our infiltration into Elderwyck was to destabilize it. Once we somehow managed to get inside those walls, our mission was to bring down the government of the city through any means necessary. Hook had told me that he had no intention to direct the Nocturne Division against civilian targets within the twin cities, but…

He’d also said that a degree of collateral damage was expected, and unfortunately permissible.

The dwarf was cold like that, sometimes.

All of these people had been forced from their homes out of fear, from a gambit enacted by the very people they were fleeing into the arms of…

They wouldn’t find the safety and stability inside the walls of Elderwyck that they longed for.

It…was our job to make sure they couldn’t.

All of these thoughts were winding their way through my rings as I entered the ‘Stacks’ that the tree urchin from earlier had told me about. I couldn’t help but be a little bit impressed at how quickly the refugees had put this up. It had only been a little over a week by now since the Breaks had occurred, and they already had this little shantytown set up. I mean, if most of these people had only left a day or so after the breaks had occurred, then they must have set this up in a matter of days.

But…that made no sense.

While I wouldn’t call this area anything like a proper town or village, it was still visibly built up. The majority of it was simple carts and wagons that had been parked in a certain area and then built up on, but not everything. I saw plenty of lean-tos and even small ramshackle buildings spaced in between the veritable mobile homes.

I frowned and leaned over and down slightly to whisper in Hook’s ear. “This isn’t right,” I murmured. “This is too much to have been set up in the last few days. How long have these people been here?”

Hook didn’t turn to face me from his observation of the crowd, nor did he stop moving. He still answered, though. “Months,” He whispered back. “Olsen has been up to something, but even though we have suspicions, we don’t know exactly why. We haven’t managed to insert an Agent into his staff or household. Around the time that the main host of the Uprising started marching from Hollow Hill down to Silvercrest and then Helstein, the Duke started to spread rumors. Garbage about how the Uprising hated everyone in the South and was coming to put their homes to the torch. Not everyone in this stretch of the country believed that, but enough did. They started flocking in droves to Elderwyck seeking his protection, but not everyone was let into the city. Thus, these ‘Stacks’ were born.”

Sylvia sidled closer to us, presumably to join the conversation. She had her hood up so I couldn’t see her face, but I nearly did a double-take when I noticed the flesh tones that her visible skin had taken on. Gone were the Mithril hues that I had grown to be so fond of. In its place was what looked to be the pale skin that was common among the Herztalian people. Sometime in the last few minutes, she must have cast the illusion that she’d spoken about earlier.

Her crystalline blue eyes still shined through the darkness of her hood, though. She must have noticed my reaction, as one of those orbs winked at me.

Still, that didn’t stop her from questioning Hook. “Why did he do this? Surely this many people must be a burden on the city.”

“Current analysis suggests that he did the entire thing to stall the Uprising,” Hook answered grimly. “Think about it. If you knew that an opposing army was marching on your doorstep, how would you give them pause? That is, if you were an amoral nobleman that was more than willing to use civilians as shields. How are you supposed to conquer a city when not only is it neighbored by a vastly more powerful foreign national enclave, but it has thousands of innocent refugees outside its gates? The leadership had been dreading the complications of sieging this city that the Stacks would bring.”

“That’s…” I trailed off, feeling like a stone was growing in my guts. “Incredibly cold.”

“And incredibly, maliciously pragmatic,” Hook picked up, almost sounding like he admired the move. “Things have only grown worse with the Breaks. More and more people are flooding here every day now. I’m absolutely positive that Olsen has spread rumors about how the Uprising orchestrated them. Right now, a clandestine operation to take this city is the only way to do so. An outright siege is impossible at this point.”

I sighed and reluctantly nodded at his words. I…guess. That didn’t make me feel any better about how were planning to make things even worse for these people. I wasn’t experienced enough in warfare to gainsay him. What did I know about the complexities and planning of a military campaign? Surely the leadership of the Uprising knew better than I did.

Surely.

Because I was keeping an eye out, I noticed Hook’s body language shift every so slightly. His stride didn’t change at all, but a hint of tension in his shoulders eased. “She’s moving,” He murmured.

For a moment, I didn’t understand what he was talking about before I remembered the silver coins. He’d had his linked to Dusk’s, which meant both the coin he held and the one she did were homing in on each other.

If Dusk’s coin was moving, that meant…

“Towards us?” I asked quietly.

Hook’s head nodded slightly but didn’t stop walking. “She’ll find us, but for now we need to check on the situation at the gate. That’ll inform our next move.”

We didn’t have to wait long before the gate came into view, as we’d been walking through the Stacks for some time now. The walls of Elderwyck loomed higher and higher as we grew close to them, with the crowds growing thicker as well. We were shoulder to shoulder with refugees now and had to elbow our way through them. Eventually, we broke through and beheld the gates of Elderwyck.

Which were closed.

There was a small garrison of Loyalist troops out front, and a portcullis had closed over the front of the massive wooden gates. From where I stood, I could see dozens of refugees trying to argue with some of the soldiers, only for the ground pounders to turn them away. In some cases, violently. I winced as I watched one man in tattered brown robes get knocked to the ground and then stomped on by one overzealous soldier.

In other cases, there was a long procession that was leading off to another side road. This one seemed to stretch off in the distance heading southwest. From what I could tell, after they were turned away, a number of the refugees were deciding to keep on the move. I don’t know where they expected to go, though. From what I remembered of the maps of Herztal I’d seen, there wasn’t another major city for at least a hundred miles.

That…was a long distance to go, when all you had was a cart. Especially through land that was crawling with monsters and it was dubious if you could protect yourself.

I can’t imagine how desperate you would have to be to make that decision.

“Welp,” Hook sighed, only slightly audible over the murmur of the crowd. “We’re not getting in the easy way, which I suspected was the case.”

“That’s correct,” A slightly familiar female voice answered back evenly.

I almost tensed in surprise, but forced myself not to. I suspected that I knew who that was. Turning to face the owner, I…almost didn’t recognize them.

A female Gnoll had sidled up to our small little group. It must be Dusk, but I only thought so because I was expecting her. I hadn’t seen her face under her mask back in Headquarters to recognize it, but I had noticed that her fur was white. This Gnoll’s fur was thin and tawny instead, with plain brown eyes set into hollow cheeks. Her tail looked to be docked, and her left ear had a chunk taken out of it. All together, this woman didn’t look like who Hook had called the Divisions foremost infiltration specialist. She just looked like a down on her luck peasant.

Which was…probably the point.

As Hook turned to face his Agent and gave her a quick look over, Dusk did the same to Sylvia and I. She gave me the slightest nod I’d ever seen after her inspection and then turned to focus on Hook. They met each other’s eyes calmly for a moment before Dusk spoke again.

“It’s very bright out,” She said flatly, standing perfectly still.

“The winter sun is always brighter than expected,” Hook replied evenly.

Dusk nodded slowly. “I hate the color.” Abruptly, the Gnoll turned on her heel and started walking out into the crowd after the…odd conversation. I could guess what had just happened, though. I wasn’t familiar with those code words, but I could recognize a series of identifiers when I heard them.

Hook followed after her, with Sylvia following. With one last glance at the crowd in front of the gates, I did the same.

……………………………………………….

Dusk led us to what looked like a small ramshackle bar, quickly cobbled together from whatever junk wood had been scavenged. Unlike most bars I’d been in, it was unusually quiet in here. Nobody looked like they wanted to be celebrating. Instead, they were either doing their best to drown out the outside world with cheap booze, or quietly sobbing into their mugs. The walls looked like they were barely better than driftwood, but it still had a quiet corner for us to settle down into.

Hook drew a small wooden figurine of a raven from a pouch on his belt. Rubbing a finger over it, the sound outside of our little corner cut out. As soon as a bubble of quiet had descended on us, he turned to face Dusk with a frown. “Report,” He said curtly. “What happened at the barn?”

“Impersonators,” Dusk immediately answered. “I had been waiting for you at the agreed upon location when, approximately twelve hours ago, it was approached by a group of five impersonators. They were wearing full Nocturne regalia and had appropriate masks.”

Hook frowned, drumming his fingers on the table. “Which masks?” He asked after a moment of thought.

“Slate, Blaze, Thorn, Ash, and Frost,” Dusk answered. She paused for a moment, before continuing. “I believe those Agents have been KIA, in order for their masks to have been taken.”

Thorn? The only reason I hadn’t taken that name was because it was already in use.

Guess it wasn’t anymore.

“The only reason I suspected them was because I spoke to Ash days ago, before their infiltration” Dusk continued curtly. “That was not Ash. When I attempted identity confirmation, the group used outdated code words. This is likely the only reason I’m still alive. I immediately attacked. Fortunately, I survived with only minor wounds.” She shifted her tattered tunic to the side slightly, letting me see bandages underneath. There was a slight amount of blood staining them.

I frowned to myself. “I can take a look at that later, if you’d like,” I said to her. I may not be a fully trained medic, but Aetherial Melding was better than nothing. I had never forgotten the way I had saved Walter’s life via emergency Melding surgery back in Addersfield.

“Unnecessary,” Dusk immediately turned me down. “My Status has nearly finished healing it.”

“Dusk,” Hook said, drawing her attention. “Was it SED?” I was startled at the amount of intensity that was in the normally calm dwarf’s voice.

SED? The hell was that?

Dusk hesitated for the first time, before nodding reluctantly. “I believe it was, yes. There was a degree of sophistication to their attempt that the Loyalist Regulars would not employ.”

Hook cursed then, clenching a hand tight enough for veins to pop up on the back of his fist. Meanwhile, Sylvia drew in a slow even breath, before turning to me and speaking. I guess my girlfriend knew me well enough by now to anticipate my questions.

“The Sovereign Enforcement Directorate,” She said lowly. “The shadowy hand of the Army, and our direct equivalent among the Loyalists. That they are attempting to intercept us…it does not bode well.”

Oh.

Rival spies and assassins.

Great.

“If they’re here, that means the city is locked down tighter than ever,” Hook said with a rough sigh. “I’m guessing we can’t get in via our usual way?”

“I checked in the last few hours,” Dusk answered with a shake of her head. “The canal is being watched. I’m afraid it isn’t an option.”

“Then…we have no choice. There’s only one real way into the city now,” Hook said, before turning to face me with a gallows smirk. “Hope you don’t mind undead, kids, because we’re going in through the old mausoleum.”

Excuse me? Undead?

Fucking what?

<<Chapter 165 | Table of Contents | Chapter 167>>

Chapter 165 - Walls and Gates

The direction that Hook had led us to the Duchy of Elderwyck hadn’t been on one of the main roads in Herztal. We had primarily been taking game trails, and when that didn’t work, going over land. He had deliberately kept us away from the more traveled paths, in order to minimize our profile.

That was looking to have been a good decision, as the road we had exited onto was packed.

There must have been hundreds and hundreds of people occupying the road. Dozens of wagons loaded down with furniture and belongings stretched out as far as the eye could see, while cages filled with live stock trundled along behind them. Curious, and yet despondent young eyes peeked out of wagons at everyone they could, and yet did not speak out. Individual travelers trudged along the road with heavy packs on their backs, looking to be carrying their entire lives. An air of misery and desperation hung heavy over the entire ghastly procession.

This didn’t look like the flow of travelers I would have expected for a major trading hub in the Kingdom.

No, this looked like a trail of refugees.

Luckily, we blended right in with them, after we had stowed our masks. Safely ensconced within the masses, Hook gestured down. Sylvia and I got his message, sliding off of our horses in order to huddle closer to him.

“I don’t think the barn was being watched,” He said to us, only barely loud enough to be heard over the murmur and rattle of the procession. “Which is sloppy, but good for us. But now we need to find Dusk, which would have been impossible for you two. Thankfully, I’m here.”

I rolled my eyes at him slightly, but I understood his reasoning. “Because you can ask HQ to link her locater coin to yours, yeah I get it.”

Hook gave me the evil eye. “Don’t spoil my fun, you brat. But yes, I already messaged Headquarters on the ride here. I can already feel the direction it’s leading me in. Unfortunately, it leads in the direction we’re going.”

“And this road leads into Elderwyck,” Sylvia picked up with a frown. Said frown turned into a grimace. “I dearly hope she’s not already within the city walls. That would…complicate matters.”

Hook shook his head. “I don’t think she is. I know that girl, and she knows me. She wouldn’t have expedited her infiltration unless she was in extreme danger. She knew we were coming. She wouldn’t abandon us.”

I frowned, another thought crossing my rings. “What about the rest of the Division? Are they fine? I thought that barn was supposed to be our meeting point?”

“No, that was just my personal meeting point with Dusk,” Hook said. “Everyone else is either assessing their own way in, already within the walls, or not here yet. However, I think I know where Dusk is. Just follow me.”

We elected not to climb back up onto our mounts for a variety of reasons, instead blending into the crowd on foot. The first was that, frankly, our horses were a bit exhausted after the breakneck pace we had put them through in order to get away from the burning barn.

I…could actually see a small wisp of smoke over the horizon, in the direction of the fire. It was actually the talk of the road, with multiple travelers pointing to it and murmuring to themselves. I didn’t like how fearful they sounded.

Listening to the travelers was one of the other reasons we didn’t try and move faster. This seemed like a good opportunity to catch up on the regional news, which was something hard to get over the coin communication network.

As I had thought, a majority of the people on the road were refugees fleeing the horde. Despite the Order’s best efforts, they hadn’t managed to keep the attention of the entirety of it. From the fearful conversations that were occurring all around us, I discovered that there were now packs of monsters roving the countryside, drawn to each little village and town they could find like moths to a flame. Almost every settlement in Vereden had some form of monster repellent going on, whether it was a shabby wardstone, a fighting force, or some kind of alchemical solution.

But none of them were good enough to keep out the numbers that these people had been seeing. Almost universally, the towns and villages that occupied central Herztal were emptying out, and fleeing for the larger cities. There, they hoped to find safety within the much larger, much stronger, and far better-warded walls of places like Elderwyck.

Unfortunately…

“It won’t work,” Hook sighed to himself, regretfully. “Elderwyck can’t support this many refugees. It would buckle under the strain. I guarantee that they’re being turned away at the gate.”

“Is it going to be a problem for us getting inside?” I asked him, frowning.

Hook shook his head. “No, Dusk and I have another entryway. You’re going to hate it, though.” With those ominous words, Hook clammed up and refused to elaborate.

Goddamn cagey old dwarf.

I guess I’d just have to find out later.

Hook’s prediction turned out to be prescient. As we got closer and closer to the massive walls I could see growing on the horizon, the crowd of people around us began to grow thicker. In fact, it got so bad that our progress completely halted miles away from the actual city.

Hook cursed. “Damnit all,” He said irritably, before turning to me. “Hangman, get up that tree, take a look around, and report back. I want to know what’s going on.” The dwarf pointed to a large tree on the side of the road, that already seemed to be occupied by a number of curious children. They were hanging from and sitting on the branches of the tree, watching the milling crowds below them.

I nodded sharply at his direct orders and started squirming my way through the mass of bodies between me and the tree. Once I reached it, I didn’t even bother with Thorn Grapple. I just clambered up the tree in a few well-practiced moves. I had done quite a bit of tree climbing by this point.

When I reached the middle branches, one of the kids sitting on a much higher branch and kicking his legs called down to me. “Whatcha doin’, mister?”

I cast an eye up at him and flashed a quick smile. “I’m trying to get a better look at what’s going on up ahead!” I answered up at him.

One of the other kids that was hanging upside down on another branch snickered at me. This time, it was a particularly feisty looking little girl. “Ain’t nothin’ goin’ on, stoopid,” She mocked me, her pigtails swinging back and forth with her. “That’s why we’re up here.”

I just rolled my eyes at the little brat and stood up on the branch I had reached. When I did, the view that greeted my eyes surprised me.

For multiple reasons.

In the distance, perhaps only a few miles away, I got my first look at the twin cities of Elderwyck and Tlatec.

It wasn’t quite what I was expecting.

From the position that I was at, it looked like the two cities were up farther on the hill, so the view of it them were being blocked by the absolutely massive wall that wall that dominated the scenery. It must have been as massive as Helstein’s, rising at least fifty feet into the sky. This was a surprise to me. Helstein had been a city meant to block off an entire half of a continent, and here was what looked to be a coastal trading hub that had an equivalent.

And the wall itself wasn’t even one uniform mass at that. I could see the clear dividing line that marked the difference between Elderwyck and Tlatec. On the left side from my position, the wall was built in the Herztalian style that I had seen several times by now, just thankfully not quite as bleak as Helstein’s had been. It seemed to be grey stone with crenelations dotting the battlements, from which I could see the tiny forms of Loyalist soldiers manning it. It seemed particularly well defended, with a surprising amount of siege weaponry all along it, from catapults to ballista to even worryingly large pots on a swivel. The road led to an equally massive set of wooden doors, which had a large metal portcullis dropped in front of it.

The fact that the gate was doubly closed didn’t speak well of our chances of getting in that way.

But far off to the left of the Elderwyck portion of the walls, I could see them curve off just out of sight and immediately change style.

It was decidedly not Herztalian, or even human to my eyes.

That must be Tlatec.

I don’t think their portion of the wall was hewn from the same stone as the Elderwyck side. For one, it was an entirely different color. Instead of a uniform grey, it was a reddish tan of some kind. And where the wall for Elderwyck was mostly unadorned except for its crenelations and armaments, the Orcish side was decidedly…not.

It was far spikier, for one. Polished iron spikes ran not only all along the edge of the wall, but almost up and down the front as well, with some pointed downwards, as if to deter people climbing it. Tall towers in an almost meso-American style rose from the top of the tower, almost every hundred feet or so. Distant figures filled the towers, far enough away that I wasn’t able to make them out. Curiously, I didn’t see any of the siege weaponry or armaments along its length that I did for the Herztalians. Probably had something to do with the massive fiery crystal orbs that I could see at the top of the towers along the wall. Even from a distance, I could almost feel the amount of Mana within them.

It made my teeth itch.

I couldn’t see a similar gate for the Tlactec portion of the twin cities, as the combined wall curved far out of sight. But what I did see in front of the Elderwyck portion caused my heart to drop even more.

There was a massive, sprawling shanty-town just outside the gates of the city. It looked incredibly ramshackle, to my eyes, as if it had been thrown up in a small amount of time with little care about lasting. It stretched out a pretty good distance, and even had its own fragile driftwood walls. I don’t think they’d even be able to stop a punch, much less a monster though.

Certainly not the horde.

Inside the shanty town, I could see hundreds of people milling about, with a large gathering of them right up against the closed gate to the city.

I let a breath at the sight.

God, I sure hope Hook wasn’t blowing smoke up our asses about being able to get in. I was certain the Loyalist guards would be on high alert with this many people crowding the gates.

One of the children above me laughed at my dumbstruck exhalation. “Yer gonna die out here, mister!” He said cheerfully. “We all are!”

I blinked incredulously up at the bizarrely upbeat morbid child, who seemed incredibly uncaring about his own potential death. I turned away from him to gaze back out at the chaos, my eyes narrowing. “We’ll see,” I said lowly. I shook my head, a thought crossing my minds. I looked back up at the children higher up the tree than I was. “Hey! Have any of you seen a Gnoll? A girl one, with white fur?”

A few of the children looked at each for a moment, before shrugging and looking up a boy child. This one was higher up in the branches than the other. I…guess he was their boss?

Said child boss crossed his arms and shrugged noncommittedly at me. “Dunno,” He said slyly, with a smirk. “Mebbe, mebbe not. Can’t rightly say, wit’ the way me stomach is growlin’.”

Yeah, yeah. I get it.

I rolled my eyes at the…enterprising little urchin, and reached into the pouch at the small of my back. Grabbing something, I took it out and jingled it at the child. “Two silvers, and that’s me being generous, mind,” I said warningly.

The eyes of the pack of what I was suspecting were street rats (tree rats?) lit up. The pigtailed little girl scrambled down the tree like a monkey to stand with in front of me with an arm outstretched. I dutifully took out the two silver coins and lay it in her palm, to which she snatched it away as if I was going to take them back. She scurried away up to her apparent leader and handed the move over to him. The little shit had the audacity to bite the coins before making a satisfied little hum. He looked down at me, seeming much friendly.

“Yup, we saw yer girl,” He said, nodding along with his companions. “She came out o’ the trees yesterday just like you and yers did a bit ago, lookin’ a mite roughed up. Only saw her for a mo’, though. Faded away real quick inta the crowd.”

So, Dusk had survived the assault on the barn. It was a relief to get confirmation, even though Hook had seemed sure she had.

“And you didn’t see where she went?” I called up.

The urchin shook his head. “Nah, but she probably disappeared inta the Stacks,” He said, jerking his head in the direction of the shantytown.

I nodded. “All right. Thanks kid. See ya around, I guess.”

The tree rat shrugged, and went back to watching the crowd below us as I clambered down the tree.

Hook was unsurprised about the news I relayed to him, but I still saw a little tension disappear from his shoulders. “Very well. Then she’s definitely in these ‘Stacks’. We just have to find her.”

Wonderful.

I’m sure it wouldn’t be a pain in the ass to navigate those ramshackle ‘streets’ at all.

<<Chapter 164 | Table of Contents | 166 Chapter>>

Chapter 164 - Lost Rendezvous

Now that we had horses, Hook wanted to push them harder in order to reach Elderwyck quicker. The normally more even-tempered dwarf seemed to have a strange dislike for the equines, even if it was a genuine boon for us to have them.

I put a stop to that. There was no reason to push perfectly good horses to the brink of death, when most of the Nocturne Division apparently hadn’t even reached the twin cities. Hook grumbled about it, but didn’t put up too much of a fight. I think he knew how unreasonable he was being.

Still, we didn’t exactly move at a slow pace on the way, to my chagrin. It turns out that I wasn’t quite as good at riding a horse as I was driving a wagon. I may not have been falling off all the time, but the saddle was rubbing me raw. I wasn’t quite bleeding, but it wasn’t pleasant.

I knuckled down and bore it.

At the pace that we were riding at, it took us another three days to reach the territory that belonged to Elderwyck. Along the way, Hook filled me in on the unique legal status that the city resided in, since we didn’t have much more to do than take out the occasional monster along the way.

As I’d been told, the twin cities of Elderwyck and Tlatec belonged to the Kingdom of Herztal and the Orcish Empire of Xilochtlan. The Empire only owned the land that the comparatively smaller city of Tlatec sat on, while the much larger Elderwyck belonged to the Duchy of Elderwyck. This Duchy was ruled over by one of the major figures of the Loyalist cause, and possibly one of the people who had arranged Grey’s kidnapping.

Duke Quentin Olsen, of House Olsen.

Apparently, this guy wasn’t quite the clown show that Duke Graden had been. And while he wasn’t as hated as Graden, he wasn’t liked either. According to Grey, the man was one of the most shrewd businessmen in the Kingdom. While he was no great Cultivator or mighty Mage, he was still a force to be reckoned with because of his grip on Elderwyck.

The city was the undisputed financial powerhouse of the entire Kingdom, outclassing even the capital. It was the largest trading hub in Herztal, and arguably one of the largest on Vereden. To my sour surprise, I learned that Vittolia was one of the only contenders. No doubt propped up on the backs of thousands of slaves.

Damned Savoy.

Anyway, the Duke had thrown his support in with the Loyalists pretty early on, as he had been one of the major manufacturers of the Sculpted. In the days before they had started to come to life, Quentin had seen a major opportunity to diversify his city’s holdings by investing ungodly amounts of gold into production facilities. At its height before the Second Initialization, Elderwyck had been producing as much as half of all Sculpted that were in existence.

Which meant that the city was absolutely stuffed to the gills with them, even to this day.

This was a bit of a shock to me.

“Why didn’t they leave?” I asked Hook one night, baffled. “They have to know that the Uprising would take them in.”

It was Sylvia who answered me, frowning into the small campfire we had lit. “They were not allowed to,” She said ominously. “Before the Uprising had even declared their intentions to revolt, Elderwyck clamped down hard on their Sculpted population. More than any other city in the Kingdom, my people are treated as little better than tools there. They are not acknowledged as free-thinking individuals, and are given no rights. A Sculpted within the walls of Elderwyck has no more ability to speak for themselves than a broom does.”

I frowned, growing a little concerned. “Then…” I said slowly. “Is it safe for you to even go there? Wouldn’t all of your movements be constrained by what you are?”

Luckily, Sylvia didn’t take offense at my words. Instead, she smiled slyly at me. “Oh, not to worry. I am an illusion specialist, after all. It shouldn’t be hard for me to craft a human-seeming veil that I can maintain for long periods of time. The knowledge of Cultivation that Honoka gifted me was enough that I can manage this much at least.”

Suddenly, I wasn’t concerned. Instead, I was very curious about what a human Sylvia would look like.

Intensely so.

Sylvia must have seen something on my face, as her smile took on a mischievous tint. She winked at me.

Across the fire from us, Hook rolled his eyes and grumbled into his dinner of cooked oats. “Ugh. Kids.”

…………………………………………

Hook told us that we were only about a day’s ride away from the city of Elderwyck by now. However, he told us that we were not going to be heading straight there. Instead, there was a meeting point being maintained a few miles out on a friendly farm.

Half a day’s ride later, we reached this farm.

I initially didn’t pay much mind to it myself. My focus was more on leading my horse along the small side path that Hook was leading the three of us down. Once we had reached the farm, he had veered away from it and up into a small forested hill that overlooked it. Below us in the fields, I could see a number of Sculpted ‘workers’ tending to the crops.

Fuck it, why mince words?

Slaves. Those were slaves down there. Just because they weren’t human doesn’t mean the word didn’t apply. The familiar sight of people held against their will and working on a plantation threatened to send me into a rage that I hadn’t felt since I was in Marrowmist. As I felt the rings of my mind start to go cold and my lips curl, it felt like my focus on the world was narrowing.

I was knocked out of my growing fury by the feeling of a hand shaking me by the shoulder.

I blinked, and the world beyond the slaves below me came into focus once more. Following the hand to its source, I found Sylvia staring back at me with sharp eyes, with her mount Charlie docilely standing behind her.

“Not here, Nathan,” She hissed to me, briefly cutting her eyes down to her fellow Sculpted. Dragging them back up to me, she gave me a short, sharp shake of her head. “You cannot do anything for them now. We cannot afford it.”

Over her shoulder, I saw that Hook had stopped to watch us as well. Though his face was blank, his eyes were calculating.

I wasn’t sure I liked the look in them.

I squashed the almost unnatural rage that was even still roiling around in my rings. She was right.

Later, though. When we were done with Elderwyck…

I nodded to show I understood, keeping my eyes forward. With one last lingering glance, she turned back around gestured for Hook to keep moving. The master of the Nocturne Division turned his back and resumed leading us through this brush without a word.

I…was really missing Fade, right about now. That wolf had a way of keeping me calm.

I shook it off, and kept to the rear of our procession.

Before long, Hook had led us to a small, overgrown clearing within the thicket. Standing in the center of it was what appeared to be a large, dilapidated barn. Its large front doors hunt open and stuck eternally, while the windows creaked ominously to and fro in the wind. At one point in time, this relic might have been painted in a beautiful sky blue paint.

Now, it was only faded and forgotten.

I didn’t see anyone in this clearing, despite the fact that Hook had told us we were supposed to meet other Division assets here. Still, he stopped before we reached the treeline, unwilling to step into it just yet. From where we were, we could only barely see through the trees. The aged dwarf visibly scanned the clearing with a discerning eye, frowning as he did so.

“Masks on,” He said abruptly, already reaching for his own stored in a pouch at his waist. I was startled, but did as he said, while Sylvia did the same next to me. I was abruptly glad we had tied the horses up to a tree some distance behind us, while we scoped out our destination. Was something wrong?

I asked him, in as low a voice as I could manage.

“I don’t know,” He murmured back. “It’s just…a feeling. Something feels off. According to reports, this rendezvous site was secure up to a few days ago. Whisper, you circle left. Hangman, right. See what you can find. I’m going in.” At that, Hook completely faded from view. I couldn’t see, smell, or hear even the faintest trace of him.

As Sylvia, or rather Whisper, faded into an illusionary cloak and slunk off to the left, I cast Thorn Cloak. Doing my best to remain stealthy, I crept through the trees on the right, circling around the clearing as best I could. Eventually, I clambered up a tree swiftly and silently to get a better look. As I reached the back of the clearing, I frowned at what I saw.

The other side of the barn looked to have been through a battle. There were large gashes in the wooden walls, while the doors looked to have been shattered completely. The dirt leading up it and even what was in front of the barn was visibly disturbed, looking to have been shuffled around vigorously. I was dearly tempted to approach in order to get a better look, but I figured Hook would have been pissed.

I managed not to jump when the tree branch I was crouched on bent slightly and Sylvia’s voice whispered in my right ear. “Anything else on your side?”

I shook my head minutely. “No, just…this.”

The cloaked form of Sylvia was quiet for a moment. “This looks…”

“Like it was assaulted,” I finished for her, in a low tone. “I’m not sure how safe it is to stay here.”

“It’s not,” Hook’s voice said grimly, from a nearby branch. “There were bodies inside. This site is burned.”

Bodies?

“Were they with us?”

“Luckily, no. It looks to have been a Loyalist assault squad,” Hook replied, slight relief audible in his tone. “Dusk was supposed to meet us here, and it looks like they didn’t manage to get the drop on her. She appears to have taken them out and then erased some Division traces here. She looks to have been in a rush, though. I estimate this might have happened just yesterday, from the traces left. But we need to go, now. I…might have lit a fire in the barn to cover it up better.”

Wait, what?

Sure enough, I could see slight wisps of smoke starting to curl through the windows of the ruined barn. It would only take minutes before the entire thing was engulfed in flame. As swiftly as we dared, we circled back around the clearing and back towards our waiting horses. Once we reached where we had tied them to on the main trail, we abandoned our efforts at stealth in favor of climbing on their backs and urging them on.

We galloped through the woods as quickly as we could, in order to put distance between us and the burned site.

Literally and figuratively.

I couldn’t help but curse to myself as I clung to Marquis’s back and the world blurred around me. We hadn’t even started trying to infiltrate Elderwyck, and we were already facing roadblocks.

What next? Was the damn horde going to roll over Elderwyck before we could even get inside the walls?

Well…

Better not tempt fate.

………………………………..

Hook led us through and out of the woods, setting a brutal pace on…ponyback, in his case. Poppy was surprisingly fast and strong for such a comparatively smaller creature, compared to Sylvia and I’s mount. We must have ridden for at least half an hour, until we were back on a much larger road than the small forest trail we had been on.

The road itself was…way more surprising than I expected it to be.

<<Chapter 163 | Table of Contents | 165 Chapter>>

Chapter 163 - Farewells

Fade and I ended up sitting on that hill all night, simply staring off into the distance at Elys. By the time she began to sink below the horizon, I was pretty sure I knew what his answer was going to be.

As Elys sunk below the horizon and the first hint of the green period began to show, I couldn’t help but let out a sigh. A long, drawn out one at that.

It wasn’t often, but sometimes Fade and I could almost almost…sync up. I had long suspected that the two of us had some kind of strange bond that couldn’t be quantified by Statuses, Skill, or Talents. At times, I could almost understand if not his emotions, then his meaning and intent. I think he could do the same for me, from when he had shown up at just the right time.

I could feel that right now. For the last few hours, it was as if I could sense a faint impression of resolve growing within him, tainted with apprehension and a bit of regret.

At my sigh, Fade looked up at me. From the look in his eye, he could tell that I knew what was running through his furry little head.

But it still had to be said.

I smiled down at him slightly. “You’re going to take the offer, aren’t you.” I wasn’t even really asking a question.

I was just saying what we both knew to be true.

Slowly, Fade nodded up at me, almost ashamed.

“It’s…fine,” I said, doing my best to smile. “I get it, I really do. I don’t have the room to complain about you taking this chance, when I have something similar with Grey. This is going to set you up for success for the rest of your life, for the rest of both of our lives. It’s not like you’re going away forever. Just…a long time.”

Fade reared up at my words, resting his front paws on my chest. He tucked his head into the crook of my neck and then whimpered ever so slightly. But I could tell that his resolve hadn’t wavered, through our formless bond.

He was just feeling a bit homesick already.

I took a deep breath, and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. “It’ll be fine,” I soothed him. “Really, it will. And hell, I think I can wrangle a trip out here every once in a while. The war will…probably be over before your training is. Once it is, I’ll probably be free enough from my duties to Grey and the Nocturnes that I can stop by.” I leaned back, laughing a little at a thought I just had. Fade looked at my quizzically, inches away from my face. “It’s just…we only barely started training together with Sparrow, only for you to immediately start training with someone else. Guess we’ll just have to learn how to fight together another day, huh?”

Fade huffed a small, lupine laugh of his own at my words before falling back down to all fours. I took that for the cue it was, and got to my own feet. I looked down at Fade. “So…do you want to say goodbye to Sylvia?”

I doubted he cared all that much about Hook. It was too bad Azarus and Grey weren’t here. He got along pretty well with the two of them. Alas, both were likely embroiled in a running battle with the horde right about now.

The young wolf at my feet tilted his head slightly at my words, before shaking it. He looked down the small hill that we had spent the night on, towards the ring of standing stones. The pack of werewolves had returned several hours previously, laden down with freshly hunted game. When they had, Taran had melted out of the darkness in order to greet them.

They’d all been feasting together for hours.

I smiled wryly, at the hungry look in Fade’s eyes. “Want to join them, huh?”

Fade snapped out of his bloodthirsty trance long enough look back up at me and nod.

“Alright,” I said quietly. My eyes met Fade’s, green on green, so similar in hue. “Then…until we meet again, Fade.”

Fade nodded to me, before taking one hesitant step away. That seemed to be all he needed to bolstered his confidence, as with one final parting glance over his furry shoulder, he darted down the hill towards the ritualists.

When I raised my gaze from his retreating from, I found that Taran had raised his bloodstained muzzle to look at me. With how large his enormous blue eyes were, it wasn’t hard for me to see the compassion in his gaze. I think he understand how bittersweet this parting was for both Fade and I.

I mouthed something to the ancient wolf.

‘Take care of him.’

Taran nodded his gigantic shaggy head at me, before bending down in order to greet Fade.

I turned away, doing my best to put it out of my mind.

I strode down the hill, back towards town.

I had things to do.

………………………………………………

“I see,” Sylvia said quietly, sitting on the bed in front of mine. Once back within the walls of Tŵr Gronn, I’d made for the guest house.

It’s not like I had anything else I could be doing in this village.

I’d found both Sylvia and Hook waiting for me, both looking like neither had slept overnight. I wasn’t too worried about it, though. It’s not like sleep was essential for anyone in this room. A status helped to keep the exhaustion away. This was my second day without sleep, and while it sucked, I wasn’t debilitated by it. I was going to have some sleep debt soon, though.

When I’d gotten here, Sylvia had asked about Fade, which had led to me telling the two of them that he was staying with the Thunderhearts for a time. I hadn’t provided much more explanation than that.

I got the feeling the existence of both the Wolfbloods and Taran himself wasn’t mine to share without good reason.

Neither of them pried too deeply.

Instead, Hook cleared his throat. “Then it’s about time we get out of here,” He said roughly. The dwarven spymaster stood up from the chair he had been sitting in during my brief explanation. “We have somewhere to be.”

I didn’t get up quite yet, instead doing my best to meet Hook’s eyes. “Did HQ have anything for you? Any news on if the rest of the Division has started operations in Elderwyck or…about how the Army is doing?”

I noticed that Sylvia’s attention sharpened on our boss at my question.

Hook did too. He sighed and ran a hand through his long steel-grey hair. “The campaign in Elderwyck hasn’t begun yet,” He said shortly. “Those Agent’s that have reached it have only just begun inserting themselves into the village. They’re finding it to be…harder than anticipated. According to reports, the city is better fortified that it was expected to have been, even in the middle of a civil war. And not just because it was known that the Uprising was intending to assault it.”

“How do you mean?” Sylvia asked with narrowed eyes.

“Because the kind of defenses that were set up are meant to keep out monsters instead of soldiers,” Hook said, grimly amused. “There’s a difference if you know what to look for, and reports indicate that it’s there. To me, this indicates that not even the Loyalists knew the extent of what the Breaks were going to bring. They were preparing their strongholds for the possibility of the horde knocking on their front door.”

I snorted in disgust. “I’m betting Elderwyck officials were mighty confused on that.”

“No doubt,” Hook nodded his head, as disgusted as I was. “But it’s made things a bit difficult for insertion. Not impossible, though. Not by a long shot. Still, don’t worry about us. I have my own thoughts about how to get into the city. I’ll let you in on it once we meet up with someone else on the outskirts. As for the Army…”

Hook paused for a moment, taking in Sylvia and I’s increased focus. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I’m told things are going…if not well, then at least not disastrously. There was a bit of a morale boost following the discovery of those free levels, which I don’t blame them.” He smirked to himself, looking particularly satisfied. “I don’t get levels often myself, so getting two of the fucking things was a nice surprise. Word is, Greycton and Honoka both got a level as well.”

Sylvia shot me a thrilled smile at that, her suspicions from earlier vindicated. I just grinned back at her, while in the back of my rings, I wondered if that was true. It would be quite the morale coup to discover that two of your strongest fighting assets had only grown more powerful from a once-ina-a-generation disaster. Knowing Grey the way I did, I wouldn’t put it past the man to have lied about the level, if only to keep spirits up.

After all, who would be able to tell?

“Enough talk though,” Hook said, folding his arms. “Like I said, we need to get going. Get up. You two will have to say our goodbyes to our hosts. ‘Grimgar Stonecloak’ doesn’t speak much, and isn’t the important muckety-muck that you are.”

Sylvia and I nodded, standing up finally. I was back in my Order uniform and armor after my impromptu stripping from earlier, while Sylvia had never bothered to change out of hers. Hook had procured three small packs filled with supplies for our journey to Elderwyck, which we slung over our backs and fastened the straps. With a final exchange of glances, we exited out into the hall of the guest house. It was only starting to fill up for the early morning meal, and conversation was low and sleepy. Barely anyone looked up at us as we tromped down the stairs.

We did accept a wrapped package from the barkeep though, filled with a traveler's breakfast. He told us it was on the house, as he gazed at me in a surprisingly respectful manner.

Ah, whatever. I wasn’t going to turn down free food.

Exiting the guest house, we stepped out into the village air. It had long since stirred to life out here, with plenty of people out and about. Those who recognized us kept our party at a respectful distance.

As we approached the gates of Tŵr Gronn, we were stopped as we had expected. Elder Einion was standing in front of the gates with Captain Cadoc. We had been predicting a farewell party, but not quite this. Because they had a surprise for us.

In between the two men were three horses, saddled and waiting with full saddlebags. I smiled at the sight of them, expecting what they meant.

Sure enough, the Elder greeted the three of us with a smile. “Good Morrow, warriors of the Order. I trust you had a good night's rest? Or perhaps…” His gaze shifted my way. “An informative one. I notice that your smallest companion is not with you.”

I nodded at the Elder slightly. “He…was given an offer from an unexpected source. You’re likely to see him in the surrounding areas, Elder.”

Einion nodded thoughtfully. “I see…well. I will inform my people to treat him with respect, if he is sighted. In the meantime, I came to say farewell and to bestow upon you a gift, at the same time. Captain, if you will?”

Captain Cadoc stepped forward then, holding the reigns of all three horses. “Clan Calonawr presents these three horses to you, free of expectation of return. We do not know your destination, and it is not our place to pry. We only hope that they will be of aid to you in your travels.” He paused for a moment, eyeing our two non-human members. “Special consideration has been made for a steed that can handle your…additional weight, Lady Sylvia. As well as your height, Sir Grimgar.”

‘Grimgar’ snorted, but accepted the reigns of his new horse. Well, to be honest?

It was more of a pony. Said dapple coated pony eyed the dwarf with an almost evil glint in its eyes.

The disguised spymaster just glowered back at it.

In contrast, Sylvia’s was by far the largest of the offered horses. It almost looked like more a draught horse than anything. Still, it had a gentle demeanor, nuzzling hand as if looking for treats. The black of its coat was a pleasant contrast to the Mithril silver of her skin.

My own gifted horse had an almost frighteningly intelligent glint in its eye. It looked at me for a long moment, before snorting and allowing me to brush its long coat. I guess I had passed its test.

I smiled. I tended to get along with horses just fine, so I had no problem with this. I looked up at the Captain from my inspection. “Their names?”

“Poppy, Charlie, and Marquis,” He said, pointing first to the pony, then Sylvia’s horse, and then mine. “He’s, ah, an import from the Principality. I hope that does not offend, Sir Hart.”

I brushed a hand through Marquis’s mane. “No, it’s fine,” I murmured, unfazed. “It’s nice to meet you, Marquis.”

Marquis just snorted at me.

The Elder stepped forward then. “I bid you good travels, my friends. Know that the Thunderhearts ride to battle soon, but that the gates of Tŵr Gronn will always be open to you.”

At that, the Elder and the Captain stepped back, allowing the three of us to settle into the saddles of our new horses. I didn’t have a ton of actual riding experience, but I had enough that I thought I could do this. I shifted in the saddle, trying my make myself more comfortable. I think I was doing better than Hook, who was cursing slightly as he tried to situate himself.

Sylvia, of course, had managed it just fine. She sat placidly in her saddle as the Elder gestured for the gate to be opened for us. Once it was, nudged our fresh mounts forwards and out the gate.

Hook was grumbling as he did so. “Had to be a horse,” He griped. “Damn things have never liked me.”

Before long we had reached the small trail that led out of Calonawr territory. I don’t know what made me look back over my shoulder, but…

I was greeted to the sight of a tiny, far-off form watching in the distance from a tall hill. The small, furry figure was outlined by the rising sun, and its antlers cast a shadow down on the slopes. Almost as if it had been waiting for me to look, the shadow threw back its head.

And howled. Long, and loud enough to echo over the hills all around us.

I smiled at the sound.

Yeah.

I was going to miss you too, buddy.

<<Chapter 162 | Table of Contents | 164 Chapter>>

Chapter 162 - Shadowed Thunder

AN: God, I’m setting up a lot with this one. Like, way more than I thought I was going to be.

……………………………………..

As the howling of both the monstrously huge Spirit Wolf and the gathered werewolves started to die down, I found myself tensing. I…hadn’t expected the Chief and his clansmen to suddenly transform into humanoid wolves. Not only that, but they seemed to be a kind that were connected somehow to Spirit Wolves like my own companion. Most Thunderheart clan members that I’d see had already been large examples of mankind, but these changed ones were even larger. The smallest among them dwarfed my five-eleven frame, looking to be over eight feet tall from the tips of their ears to the pads of their feet.

I had to wonder, were these all of the werewolves among the Thunderhearts? Was Bleddyn a werewolf? I was suddenly reminded of how he had killed that servant Pignolo, all those months ago. The asshole dwarf had almost looked to have been savaged by a wild beast.

What about in the village? Were there even more right now, howling to Elys in its walls? I couldn’t hear anything from that direction, but I couldn’t know.

Were Hook and Sylvia in danger?

Moreover, was I in danger right now? Why had Gruffyd decided to bring me to see their transformation? I thought this was just going to be a meeting with their ‘Ancient One’, who I believe Gruffyd had referred to as ‘Taran’. I’m guessing that was the massive Spirit Wolf that was starting to look back down at the gathered man-wolf hybrids.

Damnit, I should have kept my weapons on me.

The largest of the werewolves who I thought was Gruffyd raised his clawed hands in supplication to Taran and spoke, seemingly unhindered by the new shape of his mouth. “Honored Taran!” He bellowed, in a rough, growling version of his normal voice. “Blessings to you, on this night! We, the children of your claw, renew our pact with you, as our ancestors did before us! May we stalk together in the light of the moon, for eons to come!”

To my astonishment, Taran’s muzzle opened and actually spoke back. “As before, so now,” He rumbled, in a voice that shook dust from the standing stone near us. “Be vigilant, my claws and fangs. Dark tidings sweep across this land, and old powers stir in the deep. Remember my teachings and beware, for all is not as it seems.”

Dark tidings, all is not as it seems…

Was…Taran aware of the horde? Was something else going on?

Gruffyd and the rest of the gathered werewolves bowed their heads in supplication. “We shall remember your words, Lord of Blood and Thunder.” He raised his head again, as most of the nearly formal atmosphere dissipated. “There is…another thing, my lord. You have likely noticed, but I have brought two outsiders to the gathering this night.”

The massive Spirit Wolf snorted in amusement, his eyes shifting to look at Fade and me. I stiffened under his assessing gaze. “I have, young Chief,” He said evenly, never looking away from us. “And what interesting guests they are.”

“This man and his companion traveled a great distance to warn us of an impending disaster, o’ Son of Elys,” Gruffyd said respectfully. “It was my decision to bring them before you, as I judged they would be of interest. If I am wrong, I humbly beg your forgiveness.” I had to bite back a bark of hysterical laughter as the enormous werewolf’s ears actually flattened against his skull in contrition.

Taran’s enormous blue eyes finally looked away from me to gaze at Gruffyd once more. “Do not worry, Gruffyd. Your intuition was correct. However,” He paused, letting his gaze run over the rest of the gathered werewolves. Their tails actually started to wag under his scrutiny. “I must ask that you depart on a hunt, for now. I have…business with these two whelps that is not meant for ears other than theirs. Go now, and return with a kill so we may feast together.”

The pack of transformed Thunderhearts started panting in bestial excitement, the wagging of their tails only picking up. “At once, my lord!” Gruffyd said eagerly, before turning to face the other werewolves. “Go!” He said, pointing one clawed finger off beyond the rim of the standing stones. With a round of howls, the wolfmen and wolfwomen dropped to all fours and sprinted off into the darkness in search of prey. Before he set off as well, Gruffyd turned to me and flashed a fang-filled grin.

I smiled back uneasily at the sight of so many sharp and pointy teeth.

With a howl of his own, Gruffyd bounded off into the darkness with the rest of his pack.

Leaving me and Fade alone with Taran, the ‘Ancient One’ I was supposed to meet. The ring of standing stones fell into silence for a moment, before it was broken by Taran.

“Come, whelps,” He said suddenly. “Join me beyond the stones. It wouldn’t do to speak of these matters in such a sacred space.” At that, the massive Spirit Wolf moved away from the ring of stone, while above us the burning blue heart blew away as ashes. The blue torches around me snuffed out as well, casting my surroundings in darkness. As my eyes adjusted to it, I looked down to search for Fade, only to find that he was already padding after Taran.

I grumbled to myself as I followed him into the grasslands. Little traitor, you could at least pretend to be concerned.

The two Spirit Wolves had moved to a small hill that wasn’t far from my position. Both of their lupine frames were silhouetted by the bright and full form of Elys high in the sky. The contrast between Fade’s comparatively puny frame and Taran’s gargantuan one was striking. As I joined them, my eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that I could see the considering look in Taran’s eyes. He nodded his huge head at the two of us, before leaning down. I kept as still as I could as the Spirit Wolf took several deep sniffs of us both, ruffling my hair from the force of the wind.

“Hmm,” He said slowly, sitting back on his haunches. “This is a first. A Precursor has never bonded to one of my kind before.”

I…wasn’t even surprised that he could tell what I was. I stayed silent, though. I didn’t really know what to say to this presumably ancient being.

It didn’t seem like he minded.

His eyes settled on Fade. “You’re a young one,” He mused. “I wouldn’t put you at more than a few months old in fact. That makes you the youngest of us.”

Fade barked something back at the older, stronger, and larger wolf.

“Fade, then? And only five months old at that. Greetings, littlest brother,” Taran chuckled. “Truly, I have to wonder what the Echo plied Mother with, to bestow her blessing on a young pup such as you.”

The hell was an Echo?

I furrowed my brow at the odd turn of phase. “Ah…” I finally spoke up, drawing Taran’s attention. “Could you perhaps explain that, Lord Taran? Or…why you even wanted to speak to us in the first place?”

Taran barked a laugh then. “Such audacity! Rare is it that I find someone willing to speak to me in such a manner. Even my own blessed have a tendency to kowtow. I can see why this one likes you so.”

What an excellent dodge of my question. Still...

I turned and raised an eyebrow at Fade, causing him to look away almost bashfully. I smiled and nudged the young wolf with the side of my leg, causing him to huff and nudge me back. “I like you too, boy,” I murmured.

When I looked back up, I saw that Taran was watching us with a nostalgic and somewhat sad look in his eyes. “I have no problem explaining a few things to you, young ones,” He said, surprisingly softly. He slowly lowered himself down to the grass, letting out an unexpected groan of relief as he did so. Now that my eyesight had fully adjusted to the darkness, I could tell that Taran’s black fur was shot through with streaks of white. I think…his age affected him more than I thought it would, for what I had thought might be an immortal being. “Come, sit with me. I can speak with you until sunrise if that is what you wish. I imagine there are some things that escape you about the nature of Vereden, young Precursor.”

I did as he asked, flopping down into a cross-legged position while Fade sat on his haunches. “I think I’m adjusting pretty well, to be honest. And…” I decided to take a gamble. “I’m not exactly flying completely blind here, about what it means to be a Precursor. I met a chatty old Elf a few months back that had some things to say about our supposed ‘Quest’.”

Taran was unfazed. “Yes, I can smell Alveron on you, faint though the trace may be. I’m unsurprised he found you, desperate as he is. But I’m afraid I wasn’t speaking about the nature of Precursors, young Hart.”

Wait, had I told him my name? I don’t think I had.

“Instead, I’ll tell you the truth about what your young companion and I even are,” He continued. “What your kind call Spirit Wolves and what the Mynydd Clans call the Llais y Gwyllt are…nothing more than Awakened wolves.”

I blinked rapidly at that. “Wait, what?” I said in confusion. “But…Fade doesn’t have a Status like I do. And I heard that Mystic Beasts don’t have them in general.”

“Mystic Beasts, bah,” Taran grumbled, blowing my hair back with a snort. “Such a plain name for such a cornucopia of peoples. But yes, I am serious. We may not have a complicated, half-broken form of Awakening such as what the mortal races do in your odd numerical Statuses, but what we have is an Awakening all the same. Only, we are not blessed by your ‘System’. Nor are we blessed by any gods. Instead, we are blessed by the Spirits. It is the way that they reproduce.”

“I…what? Reproduce?” And…blessed?

Was that what a Status was? A blessing?

From what?

Taran nodded. “Yes. Spirits, especially Great ones such as Mother Elys, cannot reproduce in the manner that you mortals can. Instead, they bestow upon the recipient a fraction of their power, endowing their soul with the ability to grow in Mysticality. The ultimate goal of this blessing is so the recipient can transcend their mortal flesh and eventually become a Spirit themselves. However, the Spirits are incapable of blessing a fully sentient and sapient mortal with their essence, and are thus limited to choose from animals.”

I cast a gaze down at Fade. “So, Fade…”

“Was a normal wolf pup not unlike any other, until Mother cast her eye upon him and bestowed a portion of her essence,” Taran confirmed. “She does not do so often, and I have never known her to purposefully create a child and place them in the path of another deliberately, as I believe she did for you. It is almost…vulgar, and so unlike her. Unfortunately, I cannot ask what her intentions were with young Fade. She would dodge them expertly. Mother is fickle, at the very best of times.” He grumbled to himself.

“Blessing and Awakenings…” I said slowly, leaning back onto my hands. My gaze drifted away from Taran to rest on the very moon he was talking about. “So, if Awakenings like mine are just blessings, then…who blessed us mortals? What did the gods do to cause the Initialization?” I paused, a thought coming to me. “Is our Awakening from the gods?”

Taran sighed. “Unfortunately, I cannot answer you. The answer to that question remains unknown to all to this very day. Not even Mother truly knows the source of your bizarre Awakenings. And I truly mean bizarre. It is…a mish-mash of various workings and energies, and yet has such potential wrought within its depths. I shudder to imagine what your people could become if it was not incomplete as it is. I can tell you this. Mother believes that the gods found something or someone, and began to fight over it. She believes this to be the genesis of the War in Heaven. Some time in the fighting this…source of power was either manipulated or malfunctioned in some way, which led to the propagation of your Statuses. Beyond that, no Spirit can say otherwise.”

I took that in for a moment, slowly frowning. How did that fit in with what Elder Alveron had told me?

What had the gods done? How did Precursors fit into that? Was…the Precursors Quest an elaborate form of revenge, created by the System for whatever they had done to it?

Taran had no answers for me. He simply shook his head when I asked him.

We sat in contemplative silence for a moment, before Taran spoke once more. “However, that isn’t what I wished to speak to you about,” He said, perking up. A lupine grin stretched across his features. “Instead, I’d like to present an opportunity to you and young Fade.”

“Uh…” I said hesitantly, a little taken about how puppy like Taran was acting. “If it’s an offer to become a werewolf like the others, then no thanks. I’m good.”

I had no interest in suddenly sprouting fur and a tail, thank you very much.

“What?” Taran said, startled. “No, I couldn’t bestow my blessing on you like them if I tried. That’s only possible because of an old blood pact I have with the founder of their Clans and my own once-upon-a-time partner, Mynydor. That predates the coming of the Initialization, and was thus incorporated as a special Racial Talent for the Mynydd Clans. Not all choose to pursue my blessing, and thus not every member of the Clans can claim to be a Wolfblood. No, this opportunity is for young Fade. I…would like to extend an offer of what you would call ‘apprenticeship’ to him.”

Fade jerked suddenly, as startled as I was. The both of us exchanged a baffled look before my companion barked a question at the other Spirit Wolf.

“I’m getting to that,” Taran scolded Fade lightly. “Let me ask you, young one. You have found yourself struggling with your abilities of late, haven’t you? You’ve been wondering why your own growth has been so sluggish, coming in fits and bursts? Especially compared to the rapid advancement of your chosen companion. I would bet that new abilities suddenly manifest for you out of nowhere when you most need them.”

Uh, well. That honestly sounded pretty accurate.

Fade looked away almost mulishly.

Taran just nodded. “Yes, as I thought. You’ve no doubt wished you understood how they worked. Well, I can fix that. I am offering to take you under my proverbial wing, and teach you all that you need to know. The mortals have their own paths of advancement, in their Magic and Cultivation. So too do we have our own Eldrydd Path. I can teach you a great deal, young one. You will never be helpless again when I’m done with you.”

Fade went completely still at that, fixing Taran with an almost ravenous look.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but frown. “What…would that entail?”

“Ah,” Taran paused for a moment, before smiling at me almost sadly. “Unfortunately, young Fade would have to stay here with me. I’m afraid I cannot accompany you on your journeys, Nathaniel Hart. It would be months, possibly years before you see each other once again. The teaching that I would be bestowing upon your companion could not be interrupted.”

Months or years before I would see Fade again? I was tempted to immediately reject his offer, but…

It wasn’t my decision.

I kept quiet, as much as I didn’t want to.

Fade almost seemed to frown, looking off into the distance where Elys sat full and heavy on the horizon. Taran and I waited in silence as the young Spirit Wolf sank into visible contemplation. After a few moments, he stirred and looked up at Taran once more before barking something softly at him.

“Yes, you may have the night to consider the matter,” Taran nodded his enormous head, before getting to his feet. Padding down to the bottom of the hill, the ancient wolf looked over his shoulder at the two of us. “But I shall require an answer before your companion leaves in the morning. I…do not blame you, if you choose not to take my offer. I well know how hard it is, to be parted from the person you have chosen.” With that almost melancholy statement, Taran walked away, seeming to disappear almost instantly into the darkness.

Meanwhile, Fade and I were left on the small hill lit only by the light of a full moon. I looked over at Fade, from his position sitting next to me. He was staring off at Elys once more, looking contemplative. I lay a hand on his back, but he didn’t react to it.

“We’ll…just stay here for now,” I said quietly, to a small accompanying nod from Fade.

He had a big decision to make, after all.

<<Chapter 161 | Table of Contents | Chapter 163>>

Chapter 161 - Ritual of the Wolf

AN:

You know, I was looking through the planned arcs for this book and realized that it's going to be the longest by far before I get to volume 5. The current word count for volume 4 could possibly double from this point before it's done.

Who knew that a generation defining civil war would be so important? It's not like it's been building since I started writing this series or something.

.................................................

Gruffyd led Fade and I all the way through the village, and to a gate that was set into the back wall of Tŵr Gronn. While it was guarded, it seemed more like a back exit than a proper entrance into the village. The Chief exchanged a few words with the armed and armored guards there, before opening the gate with one hand and striding through. I followed after him, aware of the curious gazes of the guard as I stepped through.

They shut the gate behind us. Curiously, they left it unlocked.

Out in the grasslands that surrounded Tŵr Gronn, I was able to take in the night better away from all the light in the village.

I couldn’t help but smile to myself slightly at the sight.

Elys hung full and heavy in the sky, while the stars around her twinkled brighter than anything I’d ever seen on Earth. Wisping through the sky were what I had determined to be a view of the galaxy that this planet resided in. It meandered in a soft violet haze through the abyss, broken up only by the glisten of starlight, almost curling around the bright form of the moon that Grey so loved. I rarely had cause to stay up and take in Vereden’s night sky that I didn’t often see this view. In fact, I’d say I’d never seen the night sky so bright as it was now.

For a moment, I longed to go and fetch Sylvia, so we could admire this together.

Later, perhaps. After I was done with the Chief.

Speaking of, Gruffyd had stopped about ten feet from my position and was waiting for me with a knowing look on his painted features. I had stopped in the middle of the path we were on in order to admire the night sky. I smiled apologetically at him, sure he could see it from the bright silver light of Elys. He merely gestured me forward.

I did so.

The Chief of the Thunderheart Clan led me in the direction of the ring of standing stones that I had noticed on my approach to the village. From a distance, I could see that a series of small bonfires had been lit around it, casting deep shadows in the night. To my eyes, those fires were lit in such a manner as to cast said shadows into the center of the ring.

Directly onto a large, flat sacrificial stone that had been laid in the center.

How did I know it was a sacrificial stone?

Because there was a large stag carcass bleeding onto its rocky surface.

Actually…I think that was a hart. I could see the red of it’s coat flickering in the firelight.

I felt a chill run down my spine at the coincidence. I was sure that it must be one, because I don’t think ‘hart’ translated perfectly into Veredenese Common.

I stopped at the edge of the ring as Gruffyd walked further in. He approached the dead stag and laid an almost reverential hand on its body. “I hunted this myself, you know,” He said suddenly, turning to face me. The man was smiling almost peacefully. “That was the bulk of my preparations for tonight. In truth, Nathaniel Hart…your addition to this ceremony is last minute. A certain segment of the Thunderheart Clan was always intending to beseech the Ancient One tonight.” He chuckled. “As grateful as we are to you, we don’t typically put on traditional and important ceremonies simply for guests.”

Stepping tentatively into the ring with Fade following at my feet, I took a look around. The insides of the stones were painted beautifully, depicting a creature that I was pretty familiar with by now. My eyebrows went up in surprise, while Fade perked up in sudden intense interest.

It was a Spirit Wolf.

It was painted all along each of the stones, seeming to tell a story. On one stone a regular wolf painted in black was curled in a ball, seeming to be almost sobbing. On the next, he was howling to what appeared to be the moon.

After that?

A feminine figure painted in blue descended from the sky, cupping the wolf’s head in her palms. With her hands, I could see her touch his forehead, from which she drew out a pair of large, majestic stag’s antlers. On the next and final stone, the wolf was now painted in blue, complete with the antlers that I had grown used to seeing on Fade. He was standing proudly in the middle of a forest, as what appeared to be a human man in yellow paint beseeched the new Spirit Wolf.

I furrowed my brow, taking in the entire story from first stone to last. Was this…some kind of fable about how Spirit Wolves were created? I was startled from my inspection by a large hand falling on my shoulder. Looking up, I could see Gruffyd looking at the stones proudly. “The first of the Llais y Gwyllt.” He said in admiration, before looking down at me. “What we call the ‘Voices of the Wild’, and you know as Spirit Wolves.”

My lips parted. “The first Spirit Wolf?”

Below, Fade had grown incredibly still, eyes fixed on the last stone. It almost looked like he and the painting were locked in a staring match.

“Yes, the very first, who we know as Taran,” Gruffyd confirmed. “I have to say, young Hart, we were all very surprised to see your Fade traveling with you. It lent a certain weight to your words, and made us take you more seriously. It is…beyond rare for a Spirit Wolf to choose a companion, as he has for you. According to the annals of the Calonawr, it’s only happened three times in all of history. And,” He leaned in, winking. “Those annals extend from before the time of the War in Heaven.”

“So…” I said slowly. “More than two millenia?”

“More like four,” He said to my shock. He smirked at my reaction. “We’ve been here for a very long time, far longer than any mortal Kingdom, and arguably before the long-dead gods.”

Four millenia…

You know, now that I thought about it, I had never heard Grey speak about the time before the War in Heaven. I knew it must have existed of course. There must have been a long stretch of time that the mostly dead gods ruled. But here was someone saying that their Clan had been around even before those gods had ruled Vereden and the six other planets that had comprised their now broken empire.

I was, admittedly, a little curious.

Before I could ask Gruffyd to say more about that, the Chief looked beyond me and nodded. Turning around, I was able to see a number of other Thunderheart members approaching the standing stone ring. All of them, both the men and the women, were mostly bare-chested and painted in the same way that Bleddyn’s father was, stripped to the waist and wearing simple leather breeches. Thankfully, the women were at least wearing modesty-concealing slings on their chests, even if it left little to the imagination. I fought down a blush of embarrassment at the sight of the mostly naked women, but even I could tell this wasn’t a sexual thing. The approaching clan members just looked too serious for this to be something like...that.

I took a deep breath and decided to ignore it as best I could. Besides, I wasn’t getting any more than a few curious looks from the dozen or so people who had joined us.

“Nathaniel Hart, if you and young Fade could step back?” I heard Gruffyd say to me. Turning, I found that the Chief was nodding in the direction of just outside the ring. “I and my pack must commence the ritual. If the Ancient One deigns to meet you, then you will know when to come forward.” He paused for a moment, before affixing me with a serious look. “No matter what happens, do not be alarmed. I promise you, you are in no danger from us.”

Danger? Pack? Man, don’t you think you’re taking this wolf thing a bit far? Still, I did as I was asked, stepping back. I had to actually nudge Fade with my foot to break him out of a slight trance, though. The Spirit Wolf snapped back to reality and glanced around, almost as if he had forgotten where he was. He followed me out to the edge of the ring just fine, though.

Meanwhile, everyone else here had gathered in a wide circle around the altar, including Gruffyd. He lay a hand in the pool of blood that had gathered on the stone, and then lay that bloodied hand on his face. When he took it away, I could see a crimson handprint left behind. Everyone else copied him, also marking themselves with the blood of the sacrifice. The blue of their paint contrasted sharply with the crimson of the lifeblood, in the flickering of the nearby torches.

Gruffyd raised his hands into the sky, almost as if he was trying to cup the full moon in his hands.

He started speaking.

Problem is, I couldn’t understand a word of it. I tilted my head in confusion before I remembered an offhand remark that Grey had made months and months ago, about how Language Adaptation worked. According to him, the talent that everyone had only worked if it was activated. You could turn it off if you wanted to, and from that point on, other people would only hear you speaking your native language without a translation. It had been a pretty neat explanation about how distinct regional and racial languages still existed, in a world where everyone could understand each other as soon as they had a Status. Luckily, children who were still Unawoken were still able to understand a person who didn’t speak their birth language, even if they didn’t have the talent yet.

It seemed to me like Gruffyd and his ‘pack’ had disabled Language Adaptation. I don’t know why, maybe they didn’t want me to understand the call and response chants that they had started, or maybe it was just part of the ritual. I don’t know. I could only recognize a few of the words that were being thrown out. Calonawr, Llais y Gwyllt, and Blaidd.

Taran.

The gathered group of clan members slowly started to dance around the sacrificial stone, gradually picking up speed but never stopping their chanting. Meanwhile, Gruffyd had picked up a nearby ritual dagger lying on the altar and plunged it into the chest of the hart, cracking bone as he did so. In seconds he had removed the heart of the stag and raised it above his head, dripping blood down onto him.

He finished by screaming the name of who I was beginning to suspect we were out here to summon.

“TARAN!” Gruffyd bellowed out into the sky, causing the other clan members to stop and do the same.

The torches went out around us, all at once. The ring of standing stones sank into darkness, lit only by the light of Elyse above, as the gathered ritualists became eerily still.

It almost felt like the world held its breath for a moment, as the chirping of insects and night creatures died out completely in the background. The wind stopped, and I swear I felt a brief huff of hot air back of my neck. But when I turned to look, there was nothing behind me.

All of a sudden the torches flared back to life. But this time, the fire was different.

It was an eerie, flickering blue. The light of Elys above us grew brighter, almost in response, as I saw a monstrously huge shadow rise from nowhere. They were lurking just out of sight in the pitch blackness beyond the stones.

I tensed up.

When I say monstrously huge, I meant it. The shadow that had started to circle the ring of standing stones was easily larger than a city bus from back home. Whatever creature it belonged to was by far the largest living thing I had seen on Vereden, dwarfing the Frostbrine Abyssmother as the previous largest. The top of it cleared the tallest of the stones around us, allowing me to make out at least one feature in the shadows that stretched out of sight.

Two large, clear blue eyes that shined through the dark.

I had to stop myself from shivering as I felt the shadow circle behind me, from my position in between the stones of the circle. I swear I felt it pause just behind Fade and me momentarily. Eventually, the creature stopped its circling directly across from Gruffyd just outside of the ring. Everyone, including me, was still and motionless.

The heart in the Chief’s hands somehow began to glow in the same blue light of the torches, as it incongruously started to float into the air above us. It grew so bright that it was almost acting as an artificial sun, piercing the gloom around us.

The massive shadowy creature leaned forward into the light, allowing me to see it clearly for the first time.

As I had suspected, it was a wolf. A Spirit Wolf, to be exact, gigantic in size. Its fur seemed to be pitch black in color while its astonishingly huge rack of antlers were ivory white. Two wise blue eyes took in the entire circle at once, including Fade and I. It might just be my imagination, but I think they lingered on us for just a moment.

With a slight exhalation of air through its enormous nose, the wolf bent down and swallowed the sacrificed hart in a single, delicate bite. I don’t even think it had to chew.

When it was done, the Spirit Wolf threw back its head and howled, loudly enough that the sound echoed off of the distant mountains. I’m absolutely sure that everyone and everything in a dozen miles heard that.

The gathered Calonawr’s joined the Spirit Wolf in his howling. At first it sound a little ridiculous, with the way they couldn't match the lupine timber.

But that changed.

My breath caught in my throat as the gathering began to shift and morph before my eyes. They grew taller and sprouted fur over their entire bodies, while their arms and legs lengthened. Claws grew from their bare feet and hands, while their knees inverted. However, they still stood easily on two legs like the men and women they had been only moments ago. The very shape of their skulls changed, as their faces elongated into snouts and their ears migrated to the top of their head. Long, furry tails sprouted from their behinds, stretching out behind them. And yet, none of their increasingly lupine howls sounded pained.

Rather, they were filled with a wild form of joy and exultation in the bestial that was alien to me. One final change came over the gathered clansmen and women.

From each of their foreheads sprouted a set of sharp, clean, fresh antlers. Not so different than the kind that grew from Fade’s own head.

Before long the transformation of the gathered clansmen and women had been completed. Howling in front of me stood over a dozen wolves that stood as men.

Werewolves.

<<Chapter 160 | Table of Contents | Chapter 162>>

TABLE OF CONTENTS II

Thank you for being interested in my work!

Update Schedule: MWF 12:00 - 2:00 PM CDT

AMAZON RELEASE

SINS OF THE FOREFATHERS

| Chapter 1-159 | Chapter 160 | Chapter 161 | Chapter 162 | Chapter 163 | Chapter 164 | Chapter 165 | Chapter 166 | Chapter 167 | Chapter 168 | Chapter 169 | Interlude 10 | Chapter 170 | Chapter 171 | Chapter 172 | Chapter 173 | Chapter 174 | Chapter 175 | Chapter 176 | Chapter 177 | Chapter 178 | Chapter 179 | Chapter 180 | Chapter 181 | Chapter 182 | Chapter 183 | Chapter 184 | Chapter 185 | Chapter 186 | Chapter 187 | Chapter 188 | Chapter 189 | Chapter 190 | Chapter 191 | Chapter 192 | Chapter 193 | Chapter 194 | Interlude 11 | Chapter 195 | Chapter 196 | Chapter 197 | Chapter 198 | Chapter 199 | Chapter 200 | Chapter 201 | Chapter 202 | Chapter 203 | Chapter 204 | Chapter 205 | Chapter 206 | Chapter 207 | Chapter 208 | Chapter 209 | Chapter 210 | Chapter 211 | Chapter 212 | Chapter 213 | Chapter 214 | Chapter 215 | Chapter 216 | Chapter 217 | Chapter 218 | Chapter 219 | Chapter 220 | Chapter 221 | Chapter 222 | Chapter 223 | Chapter 224 | Chapter 225 | Interlude 12 | Chapter 226 | Chapter 227 | Chapter 228 | Chapter 229 | Chapter 230 | Chapter 231 | Chapter 232 | Chapter 233 | Chapter 234 | Chapter 235 | Chapter 236 | Chapter 237 | Chapter 238 | Chapter 239 | Chapter 240 | Chapter 241 | Chapter 242 | Chapter 243 | Chapter 244 | Chapter 245 | Chapter 246 | Interlude 13 | Chapter 247 | Chapter 248 | Chapter 249 | Chapter 250 | Chapter 251 | Chapter 252 | Chapter 253 | Chapter 254 | Chapter 255 | Chapter 256 | Chapter 257 | Chapter 258 | Chapter 259 | Chapter 260 | Chapter 261 | Chapter 262 | Chapter 263 | Chapter 264 | Chapter 265 | Chapter 266 | Chapter 267 | Chapter 268 | Chapter 269 | Chapter 270 | Chapter 271 | Chapter 272 | Chapter 273 | Chapter 274 | Chapter 275 | Chapter 276 | Interlude 14 | Chapter 277 | Chapter 278 | Chapter 279 | Chapter 280 | Chapter 281 | Chapter 282 | Chapter 283 | Chapter 284 | Chapter 285 | Chapter 286 | Chapter 287 | Chapter 288 | Chapter 289 | Chapter 290 | Chapter 291 | Chapter 292 | Chapter 293 | Chapter 294 | Chapter 295 | Chapter 296 | Chapter 297 | Chapter 298 | Chapter 299 | Chapter 300 | Chapter 301 | Chapter 302 | Chapter 303 | Interlude 15 |

SHORT STORIES

Unlikely Survival

| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |

Chapter 160 - Sundering

Name: Nathaniel Eugene Hart

Titles: Unbound Liberator

Level: 81

Age: 24 Sol

Race: Human (Precursor)

Affinity: Terrestrial

Classes: Thornblade Acolyte (Uncommon)

Professions: Aetherial Melding

Health: 640/640

Stamina: 100/100

Vitality: 64

Strength: 50

Spirit: 10

Dexterity: 114

Perception: 64

Intelligence: 169

Wisdom: 169

Free Points: 0

Options: [Talent Page], [Skill Page], [Profession Page]

Satisfied, I closed my Status. I have to say, it had been damn satisfying to allocate one hundred and twenty Virtue points at once. I think I even felt the difference physically, as my body adapted to its newfound strength. Normally it was hard to notice the incremental improvements in physical and mental ability that Virtue increases gave, but you really noticed it when you doling out ten at a time. Not only that, but I had decided to do something I hadn’t since Caer Drarrow.

I’d allocated twenty points into Strength. Even though I was going for a Mage build, I had noticed that the increased raw physical might that the points I’d put in back then had really helped me. I think that Sylvan Vigor didn’t work by giving me a flat increase in physical ability, but instead by multiplying what I already had. So, in that case, it was useful to actually level up my Strength Virtue to a degree to make it more effective. Don’t get me wrong, though. I had also noticed that the Skill was being affected by my increasing Intelligence, as most of my class abilities were. I believe that Skill was just an apparently rare case of dual scaling.

Lucky me.

Sylvia and I spent the rest of our meal almost giddy from the unexpected windfall that we’d gotten. Not only us, but presumably the rest of the Uprising as well.

God, I can’t believe how that had worked out. I’ll admit, there were times I’d wondered over the last few days if the Uprising could survive the Breaks. Over four hundred thousand monsters was just such an incomprehensibly large number. But the possibility of every soldier and every Classer that the Uprising could field gaining as much as ten more levels at once was just…incredible.

I had to wonder what the knock-on effects of that would be. Hell, as Sylvia had said, the Army would be gaining levels hand over fist by participating in the culling of the horde as well.

I was, admittedly, a little jealous. I would have probably gotten to level one hundred damned easily if I had been part of the defense. All of this theoretical knowledge that Grey had instilled in me over the months would finally get the chance to become practical knowledge, if I had access to my own processed Mana.

I think, though, that the spread of free levels must not have reached as far as Tŵr Gronn. We probably would have heard from the locals if they’d inexplicably grown in strength. In that case, I doubt Helstein had been in range of the unintended gifts.

The forces that Woodrick had kept behind to see to the gateway city’s defense had missed out.

Eventually, Sylvia and I finished our meal together, and she departed. She wanted to talk to Hook about our discovery, and if word of the free levels had reached him or Headquarters yet. I had no doubt that the main host of the Uprising must have noticed, but it was hard for news to reach Agents in the field.

I stayed behind, though. I remembered that Gruffyd was apparently going to be coming for me for some mysterious boon, and it was already starting to become late. Tarus had long since set over the horizon, and the guest house was starting to empty of patrons. The barkeep had approached me not long ago and asked if I needed something. He’d left with rolled eyes and an understanding look when I told him that I was waiting for the Chief.

While I waited for said Chief, I decided to get something done that I was a bit excited for. I may not understand fully how the whole process worked, but…

I was always happy for a chance to use Synergy.

Sitting at my cleared and empty table, I concentrated on the skill. I was startled, though, when in my mind's eye, my skills exploded into view within a dark void. The hell was this? The skill had never functioned this way before. Usually, I could only kind of…feel my skills out whenever I used Synergy. But now I was…actually kind of seeing them?

Actually, wait a second.

Now that I got a better look at this, I recognized it for what it was.

This was my soul. The last time I had seen it was when I had been during the operation to meld the cap my golden arm attached to. It wasn’t quite as clear as that meld sight had been, but I could still faintly make out the same crystalized rainbow fire tree. My skills floated around it in abstract representations that, if I reached out to touch them, I could feel them like I once had.

This was pretty odd, I have to say. Had the Skill evolved in some way?

Hmm.

I hadn’t used Synergy since before I’d gotten more familiar with the soul manipulation aspects of Aetherial Melding. I had always been told that there was, if not a mind, then an awareness behind the System itself. Had the System perhaps detected that I had stumbled on that feature of my Profession, and either altered or unlocked a previously hidden feature of the Skill?

That was a little disconcerting. Sometimes it was frustrating just how opaque and obtuse the System could be.

Whatever, I could worry about that later. I had something I wanted to do.

I reached out mentally and grabbed the roiling crimson chains of Grinding Crimson Slash with one hand and the thorny blade of Thorned Sunder with the other. As I brought the two skills closer to each other in this mental space, they slammed together as if they had been magnetized. The resulting representation of my new Skill looked to be a sword covered in writhing red thorns that snaked all up and down the length of the blade.

The sight of my soul faded away once I had gotten a good look at the new Skill. Unfortunately, just getting a look at some abstract representation in a soul space didn’t tell me what the Skill was called in order to use it.

I used Hidden Amidst the Spheres once again to summon my Status. Clicking through the small notification, I beheld the name and suitably vague description of my new Skill.

You have learned the Class Skill, Grinding Crimson Sunder!

Grinding Crimson Sunder: Grind through the hide of your enemies with dendropathic malice.

There it went again with the ‘dendropathic malice’. System, I don’t know what you thought of me, but I didn’t think of myself as being particularly malefic. I’m hurt, I truly am.

Still, I could take a guess what this Skill did. I don’t think I really needed to go out and practice it right now in the cold night air in order to figure it out, like I sometimes did. This was probably just an enhanced version of the skill I had stolen from that knight in Caer Drarrow, Grinding Crimson Strike. I’d tried it out a few times in the past, and it had been a bit…underwhelming. I didn’t typically need to fight heavily armored opponents. At least, not yet.

We’ll have to see what the war brings.

My attention was drawn when Fade raised his head from his position sitting at my feet. The young wolf had been drowsing after his own meal of a whole rabbit that the barkeep had graciously given him, but now he was alert. He was gazing behind me towards the front of the guest house. Turning, I stood up from the bench and long table that I was sitting on.

Gruffyd had just entered the guest house. The Chief was looking a little different, though. He was barechested and barefoot, for one, wearing only a pair of rough leather pants to cover himself. The man was built like a brick shithouse, though, with muscles on top of muscles so it didn’t look too odd. He was also covered in strange, flowing, iridescent blue body paint that covered him from head to toe in flowing lines and whorls, almost looking like representations of the wind.

The few other remaining patrons in the guest house, whom I had pegged as lonely drunks, were visibly startled at his appearance. Meanwhile, the bartender outright boggled at the sight of the painted Chieftain. He hurried out from behind his bar and engaged with a fierce whispered conversation, before Gruffyd pointed at me. The bartender followed his finger and gave me one of the most shocked looks I’d ever seen.

Gruffyd clapped the bartender on the shoulder and strode over to me. Once he had reached my position, he visibly looked me up and down. He shook his head, grunting in negation. “That won’t do,” He said abruptly. “Do you have anything to wear that you’ve hunted yourself?”

I blinked at the odd question, momentarily looking down at my Order uniform. What the hell was wrong with it? Still, I answered him. “Ah…I have a pair of leather breaches on under these, I guess?” Which I did. I was lucky enough to have slipped on the leather pants that I had made myself under my Order pants. I typically did that so I would have more protection for my legs, in the rough branches and brambles of the forest.

Gruffyd grinned broadly at me and clapped my shoulder. “Good! Then, I’m going to need you to strip down to them. You can leave the rest of your kit with Gundr, the barkeep,” He nodded to said barkeep, who was standing not far from us and looking at me disbelievingly.

I gaped at the odd request. “Why?” I asked weakly. It’s not every day that a massively muscled man asked you to nearly strip naked.

Gruffy was unfazed by the question. “Because the Ancient One doesn’t care for people who wear what they didn’t harvest or kill themselves,” He said patiently. “You might cause offense, if I take you before him in that.”

I held up a hand to stop him, feeling a migraine nearly come on before I suppressed it with my middle ring. “Look. What is going on here, Chief Gruffyd? I am grateful for your hospitality and the aid you will give my mentor, but you never explained what we’re doing.” This whole thing was starting to seem a little suspicious. By this point, I think I had learned to be properly suspicious of strange offers, even ones that were coming from allies.

“I guarantee you, nothing harmful will happen,” Gruffyd said, laying one massive hand on my shoulder. “As I asked the Elder earlier, I will be taking you before the Ancient One. He is a powerful guardian spirit for the Thunderheart Clan. I was recognized by him many years ago as the rightful Chief of my people, and he will not harm you. Be at peace, Nathaniel Hart. Besides,” His gaze drifted down to Fade, who had gotten to his feet to watch the two of us. “I imagine the meeting will be very useful for both of you.”

I exchanged a glance with Fade. He didn’t look too concerned, so…I guess I was okay with this. I heaved a long sigh and nodded. “Okay. I guess I’ll just, uh…” I glanced around the room for a concealed place to change, before giving up. The first floor of the guest house was pretty much all open floor.

As swiftly as I dared, I stripped down to only the leather breeches under my pants. Even if I had nothing to be ashamed about these days, I was still self-conscious. It was just so damn embarrassing to be nearly naked like this in a public place. When the bartender scurried up to me, I handed him my Order uniform, the accompanying armor, my pouches, and my weapons. “Take them up to my room, please,” I said, with strained politeness. “Hand them over to the Sculpted woman I was with.”

The bartender murmured his acceptance, before tromping up the stairs and out of sight. Meanwhile, I directed my gaze back to Gruffyd, trying not to shiver in the air of the guest house. “I’m ready,” I said shortly.

“Very well,” The Chief nodded, before turning and gesturing for me to follow him. He strode out the door of the guest house at that, clearly expecting me to follow. I did so, actually starting to shiver in the cold night air.

There weren’t that many people out in the village at night, but the few we did see almost universally gaped at the Chief and I in the same way the bartender had. I’m guessing something about the body paint specified what we were doing.

Likely something to do with this ‘Ancient One’.

Actually, now that I thought about it…

Wasn’t this the second ‘Ancient One’ I was going to be meeting in as many months? There had been the Elder in Sancthaven, too.

Odd how I seemed to be stumbling across all these relics from the past.

<<Chapter 159 | Table of Contents | Chapter 161>>

Chapter 159 - Unexpected Boon

Elder Einion and Gruffyd didn’t keep me for very long, in the small side room they had led me to. After all, there really wasn’t all that much that I could expand on. Not without getting into secrets that I’m not sure Grey would want me to let slip. I told them about our lessons and conspiring with Azarus, as well as his capture and subsequent loss of an eye only to grow it back.

Both men had kept suspiciously blank faces at the regeneration, looking completely unconcerned.

There had been a little bit of interest from them about how Bleddyn had taught me Fleshcrafting, as like Bleddyn had told me, it did give me a tie to their clan. Not a formal one or anything, though. Just an acknowledgment.

They did seem pretty satisfied about the reported death of Magnus, though.

Which. Yeah.

You and me both.

By the time they were done with essentially interrogating me, evening light was starting to creep through the slats of the window.

Gruffyd let out a long sigh, as what looked to be months and months of tension eased out of his massive frame. “Elder…” He said slowly, his gaze lingering on the form of Fade, lying on the floorboards near my feet. I swear I could see a note of reverence in his eyes before they cut away to look at Einion. The Elder had pulled out a pipe some time ago and was puffing away near the window.

I swear, was it a requirement for powerful old me to be smokers or something?

“I’d like to ask you for permission to bring Nathaniel here to Carreg Blaidd,” Gruffyd said in a respectful tone, bowing his head slightly.

“Nathan,” I said, nearly automatically. The two men ignored me, though. I stifled a sigh, while I considered Gruffyd’s words.

So, he wanted to bring me somewhere? What was that about?

The Elder tapped his long pipe on the windowsill to clear the bowl and then snuffed it. Turning to face Gruffyd, I could see that one of his long bushy eyebrows was raised in question. “I’m assuming this is because of his young companion?” For the second time in as many minutes, another gaze fell on Fade. The young Spirit wolf raised his head, able to tell that the conversation had shifted in his direction. He cocked his furry head curiously.

“It is,” Gruffyd nodded. “I feel like…it’s a suitable reward for them, considering the boons they’ve bestowed upon our people.”

The Elder crossed his arms, as he visibly pondered the question his Chief had presented him. “It is…not out of the question,” He said slowly. “His link to Bleddyn, the aid he has given us, and his own bond to one of the Llais y Gwyllt…” He nodded to Gruffyd. “You have my permission. Nathaniel Hart may stand before the Carreg Blaidd. However, it will be up to the Ancient One if they decide to answer or not.”

Ancient One?

Gruffyd smiled broadly, standing up from his chair at our small table. “Good. Then, Nathaniel,” He said to me. “Late this night, I will come for you. I will lead you to a sacred place to my people, and there certain things will be revealed to you. The only person that may accompany you is the pup. I’m afraid neither your wife nor dwarven friend can come along.”

I shifted my eyes from one older man to the other. “Is this dangerous, or…?”

Elder Einion answered, shaking his head. “No, not unless you’re deliberately disrespectful. Rather, this is a rare honor for you, such that few outsiders have ever been granted. In fact, I believe your Master is one of the only others who has been similarly blessed. Truly, history has a way of repeating itself.” He said, ponderingly.

“Alright,” I said slowly, getting to my feet as well. “Then…I guess I’ll see you later.”

“You will,” Gruffyd said firmly. “But for now, I need to go see to some preparations. Until then, Nathaniel Hart.” With that, the Chief of the Thunderhearts left the room.

Leaving me along with the Elder.

Said Elder was looking at me in a considering manner, reminding me of Grey. He hummed to himself, before nodding. “I believe we’re done here, Nathaniel Hart,” Einion said finally. He nodded at me, before striding for the door of the room as well, his robes swishing behind him. Before he left, however, he looked over his shoulder at me. “I’m certain this isn’t the last time we’ll meet. Until then, young warrior.”

With that, the Elder opened the door and walked out of the room.

Meanwhile, I was looking down at Fade. “You think I’m ever going to get as dramatic as all these powerful old men we’re meeting?” I asked him, with no small amount of exasperation.

Fade just chuffed at me in amusement.

I shook my head and left the small room as well.

I needed to find my ‘wife’.

……………………………………………..

A few kind villagers directed me to a long building they called a guesthouse. It wasn’t quite as big as the council meeting hall, but it was still a bit bigger than most of the other homes in Tŵr Gronn.

Once there, I was directed to a room that had been set aside for our usage. Knocking on the door, I was startled when one burly hand reached out and dragged me into the room. I was tossed unceremoniously inside and nearly fell flat on my ass, before I was steadied by a pair of cool hands. Looking up, I found that Sylvia had caught me before I could faceplant into the wooden floorboards. She winked at me as I flushed slightly, standing up and straightening my Order uniform. Looking over my shoulder, I saw that the person who had hauled me inside was Hook, who was slapping a large enchantment disc on the door. When he activated it, the dull roar of the other patrons in the guesthouse immediately cut out. It was now eerily silent in the room.

Hook turned to face me with an annoyed frown on his altered features. “Report.” He said shortly.

I decided not to try his patience. I spent the next few minutes describing the entire conversation I’d had with the Elder and Gruffyd, easily recalling the whole thing thanks to Ringed Mind. When I was done, Hook heaved a put-upon sigh. “Ugh. Best not to annoy them too much by turning down this mysterious ‘offer’,” He said, using his fingers to make air quotes. “When the Chief comes for you, you can go with him.”

I nodded to my nominal boss. “Alright. So…,” I said slowly. “Other than that, what’s the plan?”

Hook shrugged at me. “We don’t really have any other business here. We’ll leave at first light and try to catch up with everyone else in Elderwyck. You two,” He said, pointing at Sylvia and I. “Try not to cause another stir. I’m going to stay up here and try and coordinate some movements with Headquarters. Go on, shoo.” The disguised dwarf literally waved us away, causing me to stifle a chuckle. Still, I hurried out the door with Sylvia and Fade, while Hook shut the door behind us.

I exchanged a glance with Sylvia. “So, dinner? Might as well see what they have, before my ‘appointment’.”

Sylvia smiled softly at me. “I’d be delighted.”

Tromping down the stairs with Sylvia, we found the guesthouse rapidly filling up. As I’d seen on the way in, this place seemed to function as kind of a tavern and cafeteria as well as an inn. It might just function as a sort of communal meeting place, with as filled to the brim with Thunderheart clan members excitedly speaking to each other as it was. From what I could hear, it sounded like word of their impending involvement in the war had leaked to the rest of the clan.

They didn’t seem too upset by that fact. Rather, it appeared to be the opposite. They almost seemed eager. Both to engage almost endless waves of monsters and to put the Loyalists to the sword.

Well, good for us I guess. Sylvia and I settled at an out-of-the-way table in a back corner, so as not to be disturbed. Still, in moments, one of the barmaids appeared at our table to take our orders. We ended up settling on some mead, rabbit stew, and fresh bread.

As we waited for our meals, Sylvia and I made some small talk. As my outer ring was occupied with that, my middle ring decided to get to some business that had slipped my mind. I was curious to see if I had gained any levels from all the chaos of the breaks, and I had just put it off on the trek here. We were in a safe place, though, so I could spare the attention.

I called up my Status with Hidden Amidst the Spheres.

I didn’t expect what I found.

You have gained 12 levels!

You are now level 81.

You have learned the Talent, Short Bow Proficiency!

You have learned the Talent, Longsword Proficiency!

Knife Proficiency has reached lvl. 6!

Dual Wielding has reached. Lvl. 3!

Tracking has reached lvl. 4!

Stealth Proficiency has reached lvl. 7 (Max)!

You have 120 unspent virtue points.

Level 70 Class ability inherited.

Level 80 Class ability inherited.

Would you like to review your Status?

I started coughing on my mouthful of rabbit stew, as I goggled at the absolute flood of System messages that I was bombarded by. That was by far the largest amount of notifications I had ever gotten since my Status was awoken.

What the absolute hell was this? Last I’d checked, literally only a few days ago, I had just reached level sixty-nine. But now I was eighty-one of all things? There was no possible way I’d gotten enough level Aether in the last forty-eight goddamn hours to gain twelve levels. They’d started coming slower for me as I got closer to the first breakpoint, and I generally needed to kill over a dozen monsters now just to get one level. That was on top of my frequent crafting sessions with Aetherial Melding, which granted a decent amount of Aether just by itself.

I hadn’t killed over one hundred and twenty monsters since I’d last checked my Status. Not by far.

Alright, calm down. Let’s try to reason our way through this. What had we been doing over the last few days?

Well, there had been a not inconsiderable amount of monsters on the way here to Tŵr Gronn that had needed slaughering. But it wasn’t like I was the only person to kill them. It had been pretty frequent for either Sylvia or Hook to take care of them as well. I don’t think I had personally taken out more than a single level’s worth of deformed beasts.

I suppose there were the cores I had taken out on the mad dash away from the first Break Stone? But, those had barely had any Aetherial presence at all. To my senses they’d barely registered as little more than motes of potential. Even if I’d taken out dozens of them with the now deceased Finch, I doubted they had contributed at all.

That left only…

“The Break itself…” I muttered to myself, frozen in place.

“Nathan?” I heard Sylvia ask me in a concerned tone of voice. “Is something the matter?”

That broke me out of my shock, causing me to realize that I had let our conversation slip in the midst of my confusion. My outer ring that had been speaking to her had stuttered to a halt with the revelation of my new levels. I looked up at my partner, an idea crystalizing in my mind.

“Would you…mind checking something for me?” I asked her slowly. “You haven’t checked your Status since the Breaks, have you?”

Sylvia blinked her sapphire eyes at me in confusion. “No, I haven’t. I generally only check my Status once a week now, since I passed the first breakpoint. There’s no point anymore, usually.” She paused for a moment, taking in the intensity of my stare. “Are you asking me to?”

I nodded at her, intensely, intensely curious now. “Please. I’d like to see if the same thing happened to you.”

If she had gained a bunch of levels as well, then…

Sylvia nodded slowly at my request and dug around in her own small waist pouch for the mirror that I knew she had on her. Taking out the small compact device, she flipped it open and touched the surface.

I saw the exact moment she received her System notifications, written across her Mithril features.

Sylvia’s eyes widened in deeper surprise than I had ever seen from the Sculpted woman, as she outright boggled at the tiny mirror.

Just like I had.

“Seven levels?” She breathed in exhilarated shock. “That’s insane! I’ve never gotten so many at one time…” Sylvia looked up at me in happy surprise. “Nathan, did this happen to you too?”

I nodded at her, my own glee starting to break through my shock. “Hell yeah it did, and I have a theory. I think it was the Breaks that did this somehow. For some reason, I think just being around those enhanced Breaks gave us a ton of levels for doing nothing. I don’t know why, and I wish Grey was here to bounce ideas off of.” I moaned in exaggerated despair, before grinning at her. “But this is great.”

Sylvia nodded at me with a grin of her own. “And not just for us. For the Army as well! Think of all those soldiers that have suddenly gained so many levels! The Loyalist's plan backfired! They’ve directedly strengthened the Uprising by not only feeding us thousands of monsters, they kickstarted growth with free levels!” She started laughing in a way I had never heard from her then, all but bent over at the irony of it all. If she could, I think the Sculpted woman would have been crying. “Gods, what if they gave Father a level with this! I don’t think he’s gotten one in years! Decades maybe!”

I joined her in laughter, as I clicked yes with my middle ring in order to see what fancy new class abilities I’d gotten.

Level 70 Class ability (Thornblade Acolyte)

Lifeblood Sense (Talent): Sense the rushing blood of your foes.

Ooh, that was a weird one. If I concentrated, I could almost physically feel the pumping blood in the bodies of the other patrons in the guesthouse. The sensation was like an orchestra of thumping drums against my mind. This was useful, if a bit odd.

Level 80 Class ability (Thornblade Acolyte)

Thorned Sunder (Skill): Strike with the force of the dendropathic malefic.

That…was less useful.

By itself, I could somewhat tell that it was a melee striking skill. And not a very useful one, at that. It seemed to be able to infuse weapons with an enhanced thorny edge, giving it more piercing ability.

Not very useful for both a spear user, and someone who had both The Scintillant Blade to take care of mystic-born defenses, and Grinding Crimson Slash for armor.

On its own, that is.

I started laughing again, as I felt Grinding Crimson Slash resonate with Thorned Sunder in a very specific way.

I was absolutely certain that I could combine the two skills with Synergy.

I almost felt like thanking the Loyalists for all this growth.

Almost.

<<Chapter 158 | Table of Contents | Chapter 160>>

Chapter 158 - Greybeards

As agreed, I let Sylvia take the lead once more. She stepped forward and bowed slightly at the waist to the gathered council. “Greetings, venerable Elders of Clan Thunderheart. I bring word from the Council of the Uprising as well as my honored father, Grand Marshal Greycton of Hollow Hill. Known to you as Ghrian Dorcha.”

That name caused a brief stir among the gathered greybeards. It stopped, though, when Elder Einion raised a hand without speaking.

“We welcome any word sent from He Who Horned the Sun,” The Elder said calmly.

I nearly choked on my fucking tongue at his words. In fact, I had to pound on my chest briefly to keep a hysterical laugh from escaping.

If my understanding of that term was correct, then was this greybeard implying that Grey had, ah…stolen a paramour from a goddamn star?

Was that what was going on between him and Elys?

My reaction didn’t go unnoticed by the gathered council. In fact, Chief Gruffyd briefly smirked at me before focusing back on Sylvia.

As I was reeling from that revelation, my supposed ‘wife’ continued speaking. “We bring word of a disaster that is, even now, sweeping across your lands.”

One of the Council members spoke up then. “If you’re talking about the monster horde, girl, then we already know,” He said impatiently. “You wasted your time coming here.”

Sylvia inclined her head briefly. “That is good, but the Uprising was not certain if you were aware of the extent of the horde, nor its origin.”

That seemed to get their attention. Elder Einion leader forward in his chair, suddenly much more interested looking. “We were not. Continue, daughter of Greycton.”

Surprisingly, Sylvia shook her head and stepped back. “I yield the floor to my husband, as he has a greater understanding of this.” I didn’t let how startled I was show on my face at the prompting, instead stepping forward and bowing as she had.

“Greetings. I am Nathaniel Hart,” I said respectfully. “I shall be blunt. At current estimates, the horde is estimated to be at nearly four hundred thousand strong.”

And that wasn't a joke or overexaggeration, either. Hook had continued to receive updates on the movements and compostion of the horde from Headquarters. Sparrow was still on assignment to monitor it, so it was unlikely I was going to be getting any more lessons from the Beastmaster, if he ended up being present during the Elderwyck campaign.

I think that was a better usage of his time.

Just a tad.

Blood drained from the faces of most in room, from the oldest greybeard to even Captain Cadoc. Jaws went slack at the news as they tried to grapple with it. Even Elder Einion looked taken aback by the news. The two men in front of us, Chief Gruffyd and his brother, looked particularly dismayed.

“How is this possible?” The brother whispered hoarsely. “Such a force shouldn’t be able to condense in such numbers.”

“Not by itself, it can’t,” I said, inclining my head. “This is the result of enemy action, on behalf of the Loyalist forces of Herztal. You see…”

I went on to explain to the Council not only the nature of Ward Breaks, but the specifically engineering Break Stones that they had created and set at traps.

“…it is believed that seven or more of these ‘Break Stones’, as we’re calling them, were set off along the path of the Army of the Uprising.” I continued, to an increasingly furious-looking audience. “At this point in time, the Army is retreating to the safety of Helstein, while keeping as much of the horde occupied as they can. There, they hope to deal with as much of it as they possibly can. However, that doesn’t mean large numbers of said horde won’t escape and run rampant through your lands. We were dispatched by my Master in order to inform you of these facts.”

The hall plunged into a seething silence at the conclusion of my explanation.

It was broken by Chief Gruffyd spitting off to the side in disgust, before turning to face his brother. “Well, Daffyd?” He said, almost mockingly. “Still think we should ally with these damned Loyalists?”

Daffyd veritably exploded at the man, rounding to face him. “Obviously not, you buffoon!” He barked, looking like he was seconds away from taking a swing. “And I was never arguing for allying with them! All I said was we should nego-”

He was cut off by Elder Einion abruptly standing from his chair and slamming an open palm down on the table in front of him. The sound it made was oddly louder than I expected it to be, ringing through the hall like a thunderclap. “Silence, the both of you!” He snarled. “You bring shame to this Clan with your constant bickering, and I shall tolerate it no more! Either keep a still tongue in this hall, or begone from my sight!” He shook his head in disappointment. “What would Caradog think, if he could see the way his sons fought in front of guests?”

Both brothers quieted down at the rebuke, looking away from each other.

Elder Einion let out a frustrated breath, before turning back to face us. I straightened under his intense gaze. I swear that I saw a bolt of bright yellow lightning dance across his aged features before he spoke again. “Clan Calonawr thanks you for your warning, Sylvia and Nathaniel Hart,” He said heavily. “It is my assumption, then, that another purpose of your visit is to beseech us to join hands with the Uprising, and strike back at these Loyalists,” The way he snarled that word was particularly impressive. “Who have unleashed such a plague on our lands?”

Sylvia took over once again. She stepped forward and nodded at the Elder. “It is, Elder Einion.” She said respectfully. “I have been empowered to negotiate on behalf of my father, while he is locked in combat with the horde. Additionally, we respectfully ask that Clan Thunderheart beseech the Clans that live in these lands, and ask for their aid against these monstrosities.”

Surprisingly, Elder Einion snorted. “Little negotiations will be needed. I find it hard to believe that any son or daughter of Mynydor would refuse such a call. Certainly not us. What say ye, Clan Calonawr?!” He suddenly roared out into the hall, banging another open palm down on the table with a crash. “Shall we bring war upon these despoilers and their pet beasts?! Or shall you cower within these walls, and allow the rivers and soil of your forebears to be overrun?!”

The entire hall exploded to their feet with resounding roars. Almost as one, they began to stomp their feet in a rhythm that was unknown to me. It felt like the entire building started to shake and shudder under their combined force.

Even the previously bickering brothers got in on it. Gruffyd raised his beefy arms above his head and actually howled. As in, like a wolf. Fade, whose ears had flattened against his head at the cacophony, gave the Thunderheart Chief an almost offended look. Meanwhile, Daffyd had joined in on the stomping and seemed perfectly content with the idea of declaring war on the people he had presumably been arguing for negotiating with.

Eventually, the rally of the Thunderhearts died down as Elder Einion raised hands, with the gathered greybeards and warriors getting back in their seats. When they were all settled, the Elder directed his gaze back Sylvia and I. “We thank you for this warning, children of Ghrian Dorcha. You may inform your superiors that Clan Thunderheart shall not be found wanting when the call for war comes. We will rally the other clans of the Mynydd hills, and crush these beasts between the might of your Order and our fists.”

Behind me, Hook let out a nearly inaudible hum of satisfaction.

“If that is all, then I invite you to break bread with our clan,” Elder Einion continued, in a warmer tone. “Let us show you the hospitality of Thunder.”

I exchanged a glance with Sylvia and then cleared my throat. “Actually, that isn’t everything. I have a personal matter that I believe I should inform you of, as I’m unsure if you’re aware of it.”

“Oh?” The Elder said, raising one incredibly bushy eyebrow. “Continue, young warrior. We shall gladly hear you out.” A low murmur of interest and agreement ran through the gathered council.

“It has to do with a member of your clan that I consider a close friend,” I began, folding my hands behind my back. “Some months ago, I was captured and held hostage by a certain faction within the Dwarven Principality. There, I met a man that introduced himself as Bleddyn, of the Thunderheart Clan.”

All noise in the hall immediately died out. It became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Meanwhile, Elder Einion’s mouth parted in silent shock, while Daffyd reeled back as if he had been struck.

Gruffyd, however, rushed me. The enormous man grabbed me by my shoulders tightly and met my eyes. “You’ve seen my boy?” He uttered hoarsely, a wild hope in his eyes.

I blinked at the intense reaction of the hall but smiled anyway. “Ah, yes,” I told him. “We were, both of us, taken as slaves by the then heir of House Savoy. He had been assigned to work as the butcher for the town we were in, as the Heir, Magnus, didn’t trust him to function as a Barber. He, ah, actually taught me Fleshcrafting.”

“A slave?” Gruffyd muttered, despair growing in his eyes. “Then, he is…”

I laid a hand on one of Gruffyd’s own massive paws, an idea coming to me. It’s not like I hadn’t done this before, and it’s not like it would be a huge loss to give another away.

I had gotten so good at making Bond Breakers that I could just make a replacement in under an hour.

“I’d like to give you and Clan Thunderheart a gift, Chief Gruffyd,” I said to the man, knocking him out of his sorrow. He gave me a listless gaze of half-hearted attention. I reached behind me and dug out the current Bond Breaker that I had on me. Taking Gruffyd’s hand off of my shoulder, I laid the inscribed bulky bident in his hand.

The Chief looked down at the item I had given him in pure bewilderment. “A fork? Why have you given me an eating tool, apprentice of Greycton? Do you mock me, so soon after informing me of my son’s fate?” There was a certain level of fury starting to grow in the man.

I didn’t let it bother me.

Unafraid, I just smiled at the man and shook my head. “Not at all. That is something I call a Bond Breaker. I developed it with help from my mentor, while under the yoke of the Savoy. With it, you can completely dissolve a slave bond and free their Status. Your son is unfettered, Chief Gruffyd.”

Murmurs of shock ran up and down the halls, as Gruffyd gaped down at the seemingly innocuous fork in his hand. He wrapped a hand around it carefully as the man actually began to weep where he stood, in complete defiance of his fearsome demeanor. As he clutched it to his chest, Elder Einion actually descended from his high chair and approached us. He laid a comforting hand on Gruffyd’s shoulder, causing the man to whirl about and grab the Elder in a hug. He began to laugh in joy, as he spun the Elder in place. “My son! Lives!” Gruffyd bellowed in glee.

“Put me down, you great oaf!” Einion barked, slamming a fist into Gruffyd’s broad chest. The celebrating Chieftain stumbled in place at the apparent strength of the blow, before sheepishly setting the Elder down. Said Elder straightened his robes and shook his head, before turning back to me.

“This is welcome news indeed, young man,” He said, with a small smile, before raising an eyebrow. “However, if my apprentice is indeed free, where is he? He has certainly not returned home, nor has he sent word.”

I took note of the fact that Bleddyn was Einion’s apprentice. Guess we had more than one thing in common, eh, old friend? Still, I answered the Elder. “Because he chose to stay behind, after our escape,” I said, causing both men to look at me in confusion. “He asked for the first of the Bond Breakers that I created and rallied the other freed slaves around him when I agreed. He told me that he intended to roam the Principality and free as many Human slaves as he possibly could, and incite a slave rebellion in the country. I’ve heard from a…semi-reliable source that’s exactly what he’s been doing. Bleddyn has apparently been raising hell all up and down the Principality.”

Approving and admiring mutters broke out all up and down the council table, while Gruffyd gaped at me in open mouth shock. I didn’t blame him. It’s not every day that you were told that your son had decided to become a revolutionary in another country.

Meanwhile, Elder Einion had gotten over his shock and started stroking his beard in satisfaction. “Well done, well done indeed my boy,” He muttered to himself, with a smirk on his aged features. He shook his head, before turning to face the rest of the hall. “Bleddyn has elected to follow in the path of Mynydd before him! As our long-ago ancestor did for us, he too seeks to free others from bondage! As Elder of this council, he has my full support! However!” He raised a hand to stop the council when it looked like they were going to start cheering again. “We have our own war to prepare for! For now, I declare this…unusually eventful meeting to be concluded. Go, spread the news and prepare for battle, my warriors.”

As people began to stand from their chairs, chattering excitedly about everything that had happened, Elder Einion turned back to face our little group. “Come,” He said, gesturing to a door on the side of the hall. “I would like to hear the full story of what happened with young Bleddyn. Gruffyd? Daffyd? Are you coming?”

As Gruffyd nodded enthusiastically, Daffyd finally broke out of the shock that he’d been in since my announcement. “Ah…no, Elder,” He said awkwardly. “I am…happy to hear of my nephew’s survival, but I feel as if I should go inform Rhiannon of her cousin’s fate. Good day to you.” He said hurriedly to everyone gathered, before scurrying out of the hall.

I tilted my head at the reaction consideringly.

Odd.

Surprisingly, Sylvia bowed out as well. “I was not present for these events, so I will depart for now,” She said to the Elder apologetically. “Instead, Grimgar and I will go and purchase some supplies for the next leg of our journey. We leave on the morrow, as I’m afraid we still have further business.”

Business, yeah.

I guess you could call a campaign of infiltration and sabotage business.

As the Elder nodded in acknowledgment, Sylvia turned to me and gave me a surprise hug and kiss on the cheek. I returned the embrace happily, though. “I will see you later,” She murmured in my ear, before departing with the disguised Hook in tow.

Elder Einion laid a strong hand on my shoulder and began to guide an excited Gruffyd and I to the door he had indicated. Fade followed along with us. “I have to say, I’m very interested in what you have to say, young Nathaniel.”

“You can just call me Nathan,” I said to him. “Really, I don’t mind.”

I really, really didn’t mind.

<<Chapter 157 | Table of Contents | Chapter 159>>

Chapter 157 - Tŵr Gronn

Sylvia and I remained where we were as the armored knights on horseback thundered up the hill in our direction. Fade just sat on his haunches in order to watch as well, keen eyes fixed on the approaching group. I wasn’t actually all that afraid of these, personally. I’d dealt with knights in the past, and that was before I’d acquired a Skill that was all but purpose built to grind through their armor. Well, that was if things went south in a hurry. That would be…pretty bad for our actual mission, though.

Meanwhile, Hook had done as he’d said and all but faded into the background behind us.

Eventually, the knights reached our position, slowing to a trot before us. I was able to get a good look at them, now.

Their full-plate armor itself was fairly unremarkable from the examples I’d seen in the past, being mostly unadorned. It stopped at their waist, however, leaving them wearing hardened leather greaves instead. Belted at their waists were black and yellow tabards bearing the image of a snarling wolf. Perhaps it was the sigil of Clan Thunderheart. I’d never thought to ask Bleddyn much about his home and people.

We’d been a bit preoccupied at the time.

Both our groups of three stood staring at each other for a moment before the lead knight broke the silence. I noticed that they never took their hands off of the pommels of their sheathed swords, however.

“Hail, travelers,” He said, in a guarded tone of voice. “What brings you to this land, in these troubled times?”

I kept silent as Sylvia stepped forward to address them, as we’d planned. We’d decided to let her be the main spokesman for us, considering she was the one who had the closest connection to Grey.

Sylvia inclined her Mithril head at the knights. “Hail, and well met, Knights of Tŵr Gronn. I am Sylvia Hart, daughter of Grand Marshal Grecyton of the Order of the Eclipsed Dawn,” As she continued, I could see the back two knights jerk in surprise at her words. Meanwhile, the lead knight kept still. Sylvia gestured at the two of us. “I and my husband have been commanded to give warning and message to you and yours, by the Council of the Uprising. There is much Clan Thunderheart should be made aware of. We humbly ask to be brought before the Council of Elders, so we may deliver our messages.”

One of the knights tried to whisper something to the other, but the lead knight swiftly put a stop to that with a look. When he turned back around, I could see through the slit in his helmet that his stare was more considering than wary now. Slowly, he nodded at us. “Very well. At the very least, you can find succor within our walls as I bring your petition to the elders. I am Captain Cadoc of the Thunderheart Carregwyr. May I ask for the names of your companions, my lady?” He asked, as his gaze trailed over me and Hook. I noticed that it paused for a moment landing on Fade, almost incredulously.

That seemed to be a common reaction when people were faced with a horned wolf.

Said wolf just panted, watching the knights with curious eyes.

I stepped forward and dipped my head, drawing the Captain’s attention. “Greetings. I am Nathaniel Hart, Sylvia’s husband and Headmaster Greycton’s apprentice. With us is Grimgar Stonecloak, a soldier of the Order assigned as a guard by our superiors. And my…companion, Fade.” I nodded down at the Spirit Wolf at my feet.

‘Grimgar’ grunted a short greeting to the Thunderheart knights, in a manner that was extremely reminiscent of Azarus.

Cadoc nodded to me, his eyes lingering on the disguised Hook. “Very well. Sylvia, Nathaniel, and… Grimgar. Follow me, and I shall lead you to the safety of Tŵr Gronn’s walls. Mind your step, though. These hills are more treacherous than they appear.”

The knights reared their mounts around at that, and began to trot down the incline of the hill we were standing on, clearly expecting us to follow.

Sylvia and I exchanged a glance and did so in comfortable silence. Fade just stood up and padded after us silently.

‘Grimgar’ followed after us, just as quietly.

…………………………………………………

The trio of Carregwyrian knights led us down the hill and up to the gates of the Thunderheart settlement, apparently named Tŵr Gronn. There Captain Cadoc exchanged a few words with the two guards standing outside the main gate, both of whom were wearing much more common chain and leather armor. One of the guards saluted by raising one arm in a vertical bar, before sprinting through the open gate. It looked like he was heading straight for the large building near the near of the small town.

One thing that I noticed, though, was that the villagers had an odd reaction to Fade. Whenever they noticed the Spirit Wolf, to a one they stopped to stare at him in amazed, open-mouthed shock. To my own surprise, some of the Clan Thunderheart members outright bowed in his direction, waiting for him to pass. I could tell that Fade was puzzled by this reaction himself, from the odd look he’d give these people.

Maybe they just had an affinity for wolves? I think I remember Bleddyn swearing by one once, all those months ago. Couldn’t be sure, though.

Once he was done leading the way, the Captain stopped and turned to us, removing his helmet.

I could see a slight resemblance to Bleddyn, surprisingly. Not strong enough that I suspected he was related, but enough that I could definitely say that my old friend had come from the same group of people.

The slave turned revolutionary had some pretty distinctive features, after all.

Cadoc was a handsome man with dark, dark brown hair and a short beard gracing his chiseled jaw. Sharp, forest-green eyes pierced from a heavy brow as the Captain nodded at our group. “I’ve sent word ahead. For now, please follow me,” He said, sliding off of his horse. He handed the reigns to a stable boy that hurried up to him, and then turned to jerk his head to the other two knights. They saluted in the same manner as the other guard had, and then trotted off, leaving us along with the Captain.

Cadoc nodded at us and gestured to follow him through the gate. When we did so, I frowned to myself at the air in the village.

There was an almost palpable sense of tension in the air of the homey little village. There were a surprising amount of guards visible throughout the town, with the walls being nearly festooned with them. The people were scurrying through the streets and squares with furtive eyes and nervous feet, sending each other anxious smiles as they tried to accomplish their chores.

Hmm.

Did they already know about the horde?

I met Sylvia’s eyes to find them tinted with her own suspicion and concern. However, she just shook her head.

Cadoc led us through the village and up to the large hall-like building at the back of the settlement. Once there, he turned back to us. “Wait here, please. I shall see if they are ready to receive you.” When he turned and opened the door to the hall, I jerked back in surprise at the full-on shouting that I could hear suddenly echo out. Fade’s lupine ears flattened themselves against his head at the cacophony. It was loud enough that I had to assume the hall was enchanted to block sound from exiting it in some way. I swear, it sounded like there were at least a dozen people near on screaming at each other inside. I couldn’t actually make out any of the words with how the people in the building were yelling over each other.

The Captain walked through and shut the door behind him, abruptly cutting off the shouting match.

Huh.

I was startled by the sound of ‘Grimgar’ speaking up behind us, although I was careful to hide my reaction. Sylvia likewise made sure not to turn and face the spymaster of the Nocturne Division. “Confirmed,” He said in a low voice. “They know about the horde. I managed to pick that out. I don’t think they know the extent of it, though. Proceed as planned.”

I wanted to turn and give the dwarf an incredulous look but refrained. How the hell did he manage to get that much out of that brief little window of noise?

Guess there was a reason he was the boss.

It didn’t take long for Cadoc to return, slipping out the door as quickly as he could. I noticed that the shouting had lessened a bit, only just. The Captain gave our little group a slightly strained smile. “The Council has agreed to see you. However,” His tone hardened. “I must insist that you leave your weapons at the door. One of my men will watch them for you, just on the other side.”

“We have no objections, Captain Cadoc,” Sylvia said calmly, before I could. She unbelted her short sword from her waist, holding the sheathed blade at her side. “We will relinquish them.” I nodded along to show my support, reaching down and removing my own Oninite blades from my belt.

Captain Cadoc nodded sharply. “Then let us proceed. The Council awaits.” Having said that, he opened the door once more, standing off to one side so we could enter. Just on the other side of it was a long wooden hall with a closed pair of double doors at the end.

Now that we were inside, the shouting seemed to have stopped. Well, mostly. I could still hear some muffled arguments just passed the large doors at the end of the hall.

I counted at least six more knights standing guard in that hall, each of them standing at attention. Just to the right of the entrance was a large table, nearly sagging under the weight of…a great many weapons. Seriously, I could count over a dozen different swords, maces, and axes of all shapes and sizes. One of the knights was keeping watch on them I think, from the way he was standing next to the table. Sylvia and I set our blades on it with no more needed instruction and then followed Cadoc down the hall. The Captain didn’t break his stride, as he nearly barged through the doors. The arguing inside abruptly stopped, as Sylvia and I followed Cadoc into the main chamber.

It was surprisingly large in here. To my eyes, it almost looked like an auditorium. It was circular in shape and built entirely out of wood. There was a long, solidly built high table of some kind along the far wall of it, built in a half circle. Arranged behind it were well over a dozen men in dressed in varying degrees of finery. Some were in clean-looking furs and leathers, some were dressed entirely in armor albeit with their heads exposed, and some were dressed in silks that I would ascribe to some of the Herztalian nobility that I’d met. Nearly all of them were older in some manner, with their hair and beards shot through with grey and white.

All of them looked like they’d been shouting at each other for hours, from the dirty looks some were even now shooting at each other.

But three people in particular stood out to me.

The first was an elderly man who was sitting in a higher chair than the others. This man looked to be the oldest person in the room, outshining even Grey in old man energy. His long hair and beard were entirely white, hanging over his black and yellow robes. His amber-colored eyes were keen, however. They stared at us dispassionately over a long, hooked nose.

Two men were standing in the center of the room, both looking related to each other to my eyes. However, more importantly to me, I could tell they were related to someone else.

That person being Bleddyn.

I swear to God, one of them looked like an older version of my far-away friend. He was one of the people dressed in furs and leathers, and looked to be pulled straight from a barbarian novel cover. He was huge and powerfully muscled, with long grey-shot black hair and intense stormy blue eyes, with a full beard growing from his granite features. The other guy was one of the people in noble silks. I would guess that he was the first man’s brother, from the family resemblance. He was smaller and…a bit more weaselly looking, with shorter hair and similar coloring.

Everyone in the hall, even the two guys in the center, were looking at us in suspicion.

Tough crowd.

I put it out of my mind and followed Sylvia into the center of the room, not far from the two men.

The elderly man in the high chair spoke first, breaking the silence. “We welcome you to the halls of the Calonawr clan, of the Mynydd peoples, son and daughter of Ghrian Dorcha.” He said, in a surprisingly deep voice. “I am Elder Einion, head of this Council. What brings you to our lands this day?”

Before we could even speak, the silk-dressed man in front of us did first. “Hold,” He said in a suspicious tone of voice. “How do we even know these people are who they say they are? They have presented no form of identification, and those uniforms could have been stolen from the dead.”

Uh.

That was a good point, actually. We…didn’t have any kind of identification.

Before I could dwell on that very long, the other guy in front of us snorted. “Use your head, brother,” He said scornfully. “It is well known that Ghrian Dorcha crafted for himself a daughter made of purest Mithril. You cannot disguise that sheen, nor the presence of such purity,” He gestured to Sylvia, drawing the eyes of the rest of the Council. There were acknowledging murmurs from them, as the other man flushed slightly in humiliation. As he fumed, the man who had defended us nodded our way in a surprisingly respectful manner. “As the Elder said, be welcome in these halls. I am Gruffyd, Chief of this Clan.”

Well.

Glad we got that settled.

<<Chapter 156 | Table of Contents | Chapter 158>>

Chapter 156 - Side-Quest

The gathered forces moved out, almost directly after Hook’s dramatic announcement. Which made sense, when you thought about it. We were still in the lands where the Loyalists had set off what Hook had abruptly started calling the ‘Break Stones’.

We needed to put distance between ourselves and the horde.

With orders to make their way to the dual cities of Elderwyck and Tlatec by whatever method they saw fit, the gathered forces departed on their own. There were thirty-one gathered Nocturne agents, and they pretty much all left independently. There were a total of twenty-seven regular Uprising soldiers as well, with a majority being from the Order. At Hook’s suggestion, they decided to assist the clandestine campaign against Elderwyck by forming an impromptu band of ‘mercenaries’. It was as good of a cover as any a bunch of stealth novice ground-pounders and Classers could hope for.

Renauld went with them, to act as their healer. The two of us said our goodbyes, with promises to meet back up in the city. Because I was one hundred percent going to be part of the campaign.

Eventually, it was just Hook, Sylvia, and I in the clearing where we’d all met up. The nominal head of the Nocturne Division had kept us back from departing together. My thoughts were he was going to be keeping an eye on us, as a favor to Grey.

Turns out, I was only half right.

“You two are coming with me,” Hook said pointedly. “We’re going to be making a detour before we make our way to Elderwyck.”

I exchanged glances with Sylvia, letting her speak first. “What are we doing?”

“We need to go warn the Hill Tribes about the horde,” Hook said grimly. “If we don’t, they’re going to be caught off guard when a literal army of bloodthirsty beasts rolls through their lands. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live with the deaths of thousands of innocents on my hands.”

“Fuck no,” I said, almost instinctually. “Lead the way.”

“Slow your roll there, Hangman,” Hook said, sounding mildly amused despite the seriousness of our situation. “A few instructions first. We’ll be approaching a powerful local power by the name of Clan Thunderheart, which I know at least one of you is familiar with.”

I almost asked him how he knew that, before I realized that Sylvia had likely made a report about it. For a moment, I wondered what else she had reported about me and my actions before I’d joined the Division, but kept quiet.

Surprisingly, I didn’t care much about the possible breach of privacy. There were more important things at stake than my secrecy.

“Whisper is coming because she’ll have weight with them, being the daughter of local figure of legend like Greycton,” He nodded at my…partner, I suppose I could call her. “Hangman because he had connections to a lost member of theirs. An important one, at that. You two are not to approach them as Whisper and Hangman. Rather, you will be acting as Sylvia and Nathan Hart, the recently married daughter and apprentice of Greycton of the Shadowed Sun. Or Ghrian Dorcha, as they call him. ”

I abruptly flushed under my mask, as Sylvia almost squirmed in embarrassment next to me. “Is there anything you people don’t know?! And we’re not married!”

God, it had only been a few days since we’d come to an agreement and it already felt like every interfering old fogey we knew had figured it out. I glowered at the dwarven commander.

“Suck it up,” Hook said, unphased. “It’s only a small fiction, and it’ll help in our negotiations.”

Negotiations?

“I thought we were only going to be warning the tribes about the horde?” I asked, confused. “What do we have to negotiate about?”

“Well,” Hook drawled. “Since everything went out the window, it doesn’t hurt to talk about this. The Uprising was already intending to approach the Hill Tribes. They’ve staunchly refused to take a side in the war, even though we know they have sympathies with the Sculpted. Historically, it’s gone badly for them when they’ve joined in on ‘lowlander’ conflicts. However, now they don’t have a choice, because the Loyalists made it for them with this shit. They’ve just unleashed the largest horde of monsters Vereden has ever seen on their ancestral lands. I don’t think even the Chaos Gods ever fielded a force this large against us.” Hook shook his head. “I’ve been out of contact so I can’t ask, but I would be unsurprised if the thought of approaching the Principality for assistance wasn’t rolling around in at least one of the leadership’s heads.”

I’m sure Grey would be ecstatic about that. Having to possibly ask Anguis of House Savoy for military assistance would probably grate on him like nails on a chalkboard.

“What the hell are the Loyalists thinking?” I wondered out loud. “This is going to turn the entire planet on them. Hell, it might turn another planet on them. This is just…” I trailed off, at a loss for words.

Surprisingly, Hook looked troubled as well. He took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” He admitted. “This is beyond anything we ever planned for. It’s completely out of character even the most strident war hawk with the Loyalist command.”

“Could it have been something that came from Leonard Ashran?” Sylvia piped in unexpectedly. “The man has shown an affinity for monsters in the past.”

My eyebrows shot up at the suggestion, understanding where Sylvia was coming from. That…made a bit of sense.

Hook’s face fell even further. “Gods, I hope not,” He said tiredly. “If he is, I’m going to have to be the one to tell Leopold that his brother is one of the worst war criminals in the history of Vereden.” He shook his head. “But enough talk. We have work to do.” He reached into a pouch on his armor and withdrew a familiar ball of flesh-colored putty. Applying it with experienced hands, Hook altered his face with the FAT to such a degree that he was unrecognizable. “I’ll lead the way to the Thunderheart settlement. Once there, I’ll step back and act as a guard. You two will be the face of these negotiations. It should only take us a day of travel to reach them. Let’s go.”

As the three of us plus Fade took off, I briefly wondered about our lack of supplies. But then again, I’d noticed that people with an active Status just needed less food and water than someone from Earth did in a survival situation.

I’d just been foraging and hunting for the last week, after all.

I could just do more before we reached Clan Thunderheart.

………………………………………………..

Hook set a fairly brutal pace, as he led us through the hills and valleys of the countryside. All four of us were in a visibly heightened state of caution, despite our speed. Even though Hook told us that most of the monsters that had been created from all the breaks were moving almost as a mass, there were still tons of monsters out here.

Far, far more than I think I’d ever encountered before.

However, a sizable amount of them were the mutants that I had noticed just after the first break I saw. By and large, they were mostly crippled in such a way as to be helpless. However they were still aggressive, and we still had to watch out.

Just because a Dirtgnawer had no limbs, didn’t mean it couldn’t do its best to tear out your throat.

As we found out.

Man, that thing had been pretty determined. I’d been surprised at how far a limbless mole rat could leap.

But I digress.

The first thing that Hook had us do on our trek was visit the site of the Break Stone installation I had found. I led them back there as best I was able, to find that there was surprisingly more still standing than I would have thought.

The unknown Loyalist soldier’s camp was beyond ruined, and the actual modified Ward Stone had been reduced to fragments and splinters. But the plinth it had been rotating on was still partially intact.

Hook instructed me to copy down as much of the runic array on the plinth as I could manage so that the Nocturne enchanters could hopefully decipher the exact mechanisms behind it. I didn’t get everything, and I made sure that Hook understood that a majority of the enchantment had been lost with the stone. But I did it anyway, while the other two tracked down as many shards of the stone as they could find.

Of the Loyalist solider, we found nothing.

Frankly, I didn’t care what happened to him. It didn’t matter the reasons behind his actions, not even if he had been blackmailed into doing it.

He had still helped unleash thousands and thousands of monsters on an unsuspecting countryside.

When we’d done all we could to catalog the site, Hook marked it down on a small map, and we got back underway.

As we dashed through the Herztalian countryside on our way to Clan Thunderheart, I couldn’t help but marvel at its beauty. This was some truly wild land. Any traces you would expect of civilization were few and far between, with no roads or waymarkers to be found. Hell, I hadn't even seen any long abandoned campsites. I think it was only thanks to the fact that we were all wearing literal armor that the rough brush and burrs didn’t shred the flesh, of those of us that were flesh inclined.

Amusingly enough, Sylvia complained to me during the single night of our travels that the brush was actually leaving streaks on parts of her exposed Mithril skin. She would have to spend some time buffing herself with a rag later, to get the stains out. When I offered to help, unthinking about any possible connotations, she became bashful.

“Perhaps another time,” She told me, in a slightly embarrassed tone.

It was only later that I considered the implications of one person essentially rubbing down the other, when they were involved as we were.

Yeah…maybe when we were closer.

Eventually, Hook stopped us just at the foot of another hill, turning to face the rest of our small group. “Alright, the Thunderheart settlement is just on the other side. Cloaks off. They’re probably already aware of us, but I’ll fall back for now and let you two do the talking. Remember, when you reach their gates, identify yourself and ask to speak to the Council of Elders. From there, proceed as I coached you.”

Sylvia and I nodded at our nominal superior, and removed our grey Nocturne cloaks to reveal the Order armor underneath. Hook fell back as he said, positioning himself behind us. Side by side, Sylvia and I marched up to the ridgeline and looked out.

On the other side of the hill was a long, low valley in which Clan Thunderheat had decided to lay their hearths. Mostly flat and bordered by a small mountain range on the opposite side from us, there was a beautiful winding river that seemed to originate from a particularly tall peak. It seemed as if the settlement had been constructed along the banks of the meandering river.

And, well.

Clan Thunderheart’s stronghold itself was certainly no Helstein.

I meant that in the best possible way.

Where Helstein was large and imposing, this village was small. Where Helstein was mostly unadorned stone, this place was constructed mostly of either wood, thatch, or earthwork. Don’t get me wrong, though. Even from this distance I could tell that there was a certain sense of pride that the Thunderhearts took in their craftsmanship. I could see intricately carved motifs of various animals all along their walls, both inside and out, as well as delicate knotwork and thundercloud patterns. It was far more populated than I would have expected, as well. I could see hundreds of people scurrying about the village, with a particularly large amount of them working on the banks of the river. They looked to be hauling in either fish from the river, or goods from the longships that were arranged along the small docks that the village seemed to have. From my high point, I could see a ring of standing stones arranged in a circle just outside of the eastern wall. The walls themselves were tall, wooden, and sharpened to a point with a number of watchtowers built along its circumference.

And, unexpectedly, they’d noticed us immediately, even from the distance we were at.

I squinted from the light that was being reflected into our eyes, directed from mirrors set up in the watchtowers. Although my vision was being deliberately blinded, I was still able to see as a group of armored warriors saddled up on massive warhorses and immediately began riding out to our position.

I’m guessing they didn’t want us to move.

It had nothing to do with the longbowmen that I could see readying themselves on their walls. Certainly not.

I really, really didn’t want to mess with anyone who thought they could hit a target with a bow of all things over a distance of several miles.

Exchanging a glance with Sylvia, we mutually and entirely non-verbally agreed to stay put.

“Hmm…” Hook said, incredibly quietly. I could only just barely hear the dwarf. “They’re on edge.”

That boded well.

Guess we’ll see why soon.

<<Chapter 155 | Table of Contents | Chapter 157>>

Chapter 155 - Regrouping

Surprisingly, I didn’t have to venture far to find someone else. Maybe five minutes into my tree-top travel, I ran into another operative. This one I had never met before.

The two of us almost literally ran into each other.

I was grappling to another tree when another agent appeared in midair in front of me. My eyes widened in surprise at the same time that theirs did. Just before we collided, I canceled my grapple and shot it back out at another branch in front of me. I jerked out of the way of the other agent just in time and stumbled another the new branch, as the other agent landed on my original destination. I clutched my chest, panting from the adrenaline that was still running through my veins.

“You okay down there?” I heard a feminine voice call from above me. Shakily, I raised one fist to give a thumbs up, trying to calm down. Moments later the other agent landed in front of me. Casting an eye over them, I could tell that they were female from their silhouette, but I could tell little else. They had their hood up, while their mask was painted black with small curls of what looked to be white smoke over the cheeks.

Eyeing them for a moment, I extended my hand. “Hangman.”

“Wisp,” She answered, gripping my forearm with an answering nod. “I’ll be blunt. Do you know what the fuck is going on?”

I sighed. “Do you know what a Ward Break is?” At her answering shake of her head, I was unsurprised. Grey had told me long ago that it was a rare phenomenon, actively persecuted by the nations of Vereden.

Too bad the fucking Loyalists had no damn morals.

I briefly explained the phenomenon and my suspicions about how the Loyalists had manufactured multiple enhancement versions of it.

“Well…” Wisp said slowly. “Damn. So, we’re screwed?”

I shrugged, as Fade stuck his head out from the depths of my cloak. Wisp reached out to scratch his head as I answered. “I have no idea. Are you the one that I was supposed to meet up with?”

She didn’t even have to answer. My location coin jerked away from Wisp, in the direction that I had been going. Judging by the glance that Wisp shot me, I’m guessing they felt it too.

“Guess not,” I said flatly. Turning in that direction, I looked over my shoulder. “You coming?”

“Lead the way,” Wisp inclined their head, gesturing forward.

Without another word, I got to work grappling across the tree-tops, Wisp following along behind me.

I noticed that they didn’t need to use a skill to navigate the canopy. They looked to be strong enough to just jump from tree to tree.

Yay for them.

…………………………………………….

Before long Wisp and I arrived at the designated meeting point that Headquarters had arranged for us. Landing on the forest floor, I was a bit surprised at how many people were here. There must have been dozens of people milling about in the small clearing, either speaking quietly to themselves or mending wounds. Actually, it didn’t even appear to be all Nocturne Division members. There were some regular Order forces mixed in with the sea of cloaks and masks, as well other what looked to be a few Healers.

Wait.

With a flood of emotion, I recognized a few people in the crowd. Letting Fade fall to the forest floor with a yelp and abandoning Wisp, I made a beeline for a female agent wearing a white painted mask with a blue teardrop running from one eye. They were standing next to a black-furred Gnoll wearing Healer’s robes.

The agent saw me coming. I saw their crystalline blue eyes widen first in shock, before softening in relief.

Whisper met me halfway, with the two of us clutching each other fiercely in near desperation. “Sylvia,” I breathed into her ear, relief thick in my voice.

“Nathan…” She returned just as quietly, nearly shaking in my arms.

The entire time I had been out there after the first Break, hiding in the back of my rings, had been a sense of dread. I had known that Sylvia was assigned to the same task I had been, even if we had never run into each other. The idea that she could have been swallowed up by one of the hordes hadn’t been able to leave my mind.

I couldn’t describe the sense of comfort it gave me, to find her here.

The two of us remained in each other’s embrace for a moment, before we were interrupted by a cleared throat. Reluctantly parting, I found that it was coming from Renauld, whom Sylvia had been standing with.

The Gnoll looked a bit worse for wear, with his robes coated in both blood and dirt. His normally well-groomed fur looked like it was matted from the sweat of battle, fear, and exhaustion. Frankly, I hadn’t seen him this bad looking since he’d been rescued from Caer Drarrow.

Renauld smiled weakly at my inspection. “That you, Nate?” He asked in a quiet, hoarse voice.

I nodded slightly, uncaring about giving away my identity like this. “What are you doing here? Whisper I can understand,” I said, looking between him and Sylvia. “But you? You should be with the host.”

Renauld shrugged tiredly. “I don’t understand everything, and it’s a bit hard to explain. But I think your boss is about to anyway.” He nodded towards the front of the clearing, where people were starting to gather.

My boss? The only two people I would consider my ‘boss’ were Grey and Hook. And I think I would have noticed if Grey were here.

Sure enough, when Sylvia, Renauld, Fade, and I joined the gathering group, I couldn’t help but be surprised.

Hook actually was here.

I had thought he was back at headquarters, personally, helping to coordinate the Nocturne Division as their leader. But no, he had apparently been hiding among the host and had just never shown himself.

The dwarf actually looked worse off than even Renauld. There were huge rents in his clothes and armor with crusted blood dried along the edges. Pale, tender, freshly healed flesh could be seen through them. The beak on his avian themed mask looked to have been cracked off, leaving a splintered appearance to it, while even more dried blood crusted in his steel grey beard.

There was a grim cast to the dwarf’s stance, as he waited for everyone in the clearing to gather silently.

Time to find out if we were screwed.

“We’re screwed,” Hook said bluntly, crossing his arms tightly.

Ah.

Well then.

“For those of you that weren’t there, let me catch you up to speed,” He continued direly. “A few hours ago, Nocturne command was made aware of a strange installation discovered beyond the periphery of the Army’s advance. Agents were dispatched to investigate it, and determine both its purpose and origin. It was identified as Loyalist in nature, due to the presence of a single Herztalian soldier acting as as guard.”

“What were these installations like in appearance?” A male agent I didn’t know asked cooly. It looked to me as if he had some kind of dog mask.

“I don’t know,” Hook said, shaking his hand. “The agent was unable to describe it properly through the communication coin. And yes,” He raised a hand. “Before you ask, I have a prototype two-way coin on me so Headquarters can keep me updated. It’s the only reason I’m out here with you ground pounders and not kicking my feet up. But it’s shoddy as all hell, so don’t expect your own just yet.”

They didn’t know what exactly had happened?

Well, I guess I could be useful. I took a step forward, drawing the attention of Hook and the other agents.

“I encountered one of these installations accompanied by another agent, shortly before it was activated,” I said simply. I felt Hook’s scrutiny sharpen. “I can describe what I found, if you’d like.”

Hook gestured for me to continue. “Go ahead, Hangman.”

“It was a modified Ward Stone, complete with plinth,” I said, crossing my arms as well. “Rather than repelling monsters, it was actively luring them in. The stone was projecting a barrier to protect the Loyalist soldier that was…waiting, I think. I have a measure of experience with Ward Stone runic arrays, so I took the time to inspect it. And after what happened when it fulfilled its purpose, I think I can make some conjecture.”

That was the beauty of Ringed Mind. I could devote an entire thought string to puzzling out a problem, even while I was running for my life or nearly gibbering in fear.

I started pacing in front of the gathered agents, gathering my thoughts.

“I think the lured monsters were meant to be used as fuel,” I said finally. “A normal Ward Stone fulfills its function while remaining whole, but not these. Think of these modified versions as essentially being bombs. These stones were created solely to enhance a by-product of their own destruction. That being the Breakage Effect.”

“Wait,” Another agent I didn’t know said. They seemed to be female and had a black and white pinstripe mask. “I think I’ve heard of that. It’s when a bunch of monsters are created out of nowhere…” She trailed off. Many people in the crowd shifted in realization before the agent continued. “Isn’t that super illegal?”

“Incredibly so. And recognized by everyone on both planets,” Hook said, a frown audible in his voice. He motioned to me. “Continue, Hangman. I want to hear this.”

I nodded, still pacing. “The Breakage Effect works by generating an artificial spawning period, created by the void left behind by wards when they’re broken. It’s sort of like…the way water will rush in to fill a punctured ship hull. When that Aether fills that void, monsters are born. A goddamned ton of them. What I think happened here is that these modified stones were first creating an enhanced void, as I noticed Aetherial absorption arrays on it. Second, when the stone was broken, the spell that was programmed into the stone to go off at destruction rushed out and absorbed the lured monsters, instantly turning them into fuel. The spell then deployed, rising into the sky as I’m sure several of you noticed, and…somehow multiplied both the speed and generation of monsters. That, I don’t know how.” I finished, shaking my head.

I heard a murmured conversation between two agents when I was done. “When did we get a ward specialist?”

“I don’t know, but we needed one,” The other agent muttered back.

Was I a ward specialist? Possibly, now that I thought of it. Grey hadn’t exactly been lenient in his Abjuration lectures, back when I was first creating the Ward Breaker that would become my first Bond Breaker. I had needed to really understand Ward Stones and their arrays, to know how to destroy them. And it’s not like my education or lectures with the man had stopped, ever since we escaped Addersfield. We still had lessons on the subject on occasion. It just hadn’t come up.

Hook nodded sharply. “Thank you, Hangman. I’ll relay your observations to Headquarters. What became of the soldier that triggered the Break you observed?”

I blinked, startled. I had completely forgotten about him. “I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I grabbed the other agent and booked it as soon as it looked like a Break was going to happen. Presumably, he was either torn to bits by the monsters or absorbed by the spell with them.”

“And who was the other agent with you?”

“Finch,” I said, heat entering my voice. I spit off to the side, to the surprise of everyone else. “That bastard left me behind when the horde came. Ran off and left me to die. I only survived by hiding in the treetops.”

“Ah…” This time, I recognized the agent who spoke. It was the woman I had met on the way here, Wisp. “I…can confirm that Finch didn’t make it. When I found his…remains, I can confirm that he was KIA when the horde caught up to him. It looks like he wasn’t able to outrun them forever.”

Well…

I wasn’t going to celebrate his death, but I wasn’t going to mourn him.

Hook sighed. “Which brings us to what happened next. The break that Hangman observed wasn’t the only one. We can confirm that at least six others were set off along the path of the Army. Estimates put every break at generating over fifty thousand monsters, from aerial observations. These are just estimates, mind. I still have Sparrow out there trying to observe the movements of the combined horde.”

Over three hundred and fifty thousand monsters….

That was an order of magnitude larger than the entire combined forces that the Uprising could field.

A murmur of dismay swept through the people gathered in the clearing.

“When the horde finally hit the Army,” Hook said, ignoring the despair. “It came in almost literal waves. The rear guard was almost immediately cut off from the rest, which, unfortunately, comprised the forces of the Order of the Eclipsed Dawn as well as a sizable portion of the northern forces. Which is why there are a number of regular soldiers with us,” He nodded at Renauld. “I made the call to withdraw Nocturne Division assets from the host, when it looked like the battle had become a slog. However, let me reassure you of one thing. The Army of the Uprising has not been wiped out.”

I let out a sigh of relief, as Sylvia next to me slumped releasing tension. We both had people that we cared about in the host. The crowd was feeling similarly, with a note of ever-present stress fading from the air.

“However,” Hook said ominously. “Command has made the decision to cancel the planned siege of Elderwyck and Tlatec. As of this moment, the Army is in the middle of a fighting retreat back to the safety of Helstein. At the same time, they are deliberately keeping the horde occupied and engaged with them. There, they intend to withstand their own siege, and attempt to prevent this horde from overrunning the north and south.”

“Then…why are we out here, instead of with them?” Sylvia, or rather Whisper, asked slowly.

Hook let out a long drawn-out sigh then, and did something I didn’t expect.

He unmasked.

Reaching up, the older dwarf took off his fractured avian mask. Beneath, I was able to see the craggy features of a tired example of his people. The grooves and creases on his face resembled the crevices and canyons of a dusty valley, as much as they did wrinkles. His unremarkable black eyes underlined with heavy bags stared out at the gathered agents from their sunken sockets, as he smiled wryly at us.

“Because they might be occupied, but we aren’t,” Hook said grimly. “With approval from command, a decision has been made. A campaign against Elderwyck is still underway, even if it isn’t going to be a military one. As of now, these are the orders for the Nocturne Division. For the foreseeable future, we are going to be conducting a campaign of sabotage, infiltration, assassination, and guerrilla warfare against the Loyalist forces of Elderwyck.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, prepare yourself. Because we’re going to win that city from the inside.”

<<Chapter 154 | Table of Contents | Chapter 156>>