Kage lowered his hands from his face.
Zherdev stood in the ruins of the fruit cart like a victorious raid boss who had somehow lost to stage hazards. Pear pulp clung to his greaves. His cape smoldered at one corner. One of the porters sat on the road holding the broken finial with both hands and staring at his life choices.
The stall owner arrived three seconds later.
He had the expression of a man whose soul had just been punted through a stained-glass window.
“My cart,” he said.
Zherdev slapped both gauntlets against his chest. “Brother. Friend. Merchant king. I got you.”
The owner blinked. “You obliterated my pears.”
“I will make this right so hard you won’t even remember the pears.”
He yanked open his inventory. Gold coins spilled into his palm in a thick, obscene glitter.
Kage watched the man work with the calm of long experience. Same technique as always. Fall off a cliff in public. Patch the crater with money.
The stall owner opened his mouth again. Zherdev shoved five gold into his hands. The man froze.
Zherdev turned to the four porters and gave each of them a gold coin.
The lead herald lifted a finger through the cape still wrapped around his face. “Sir, I suffered banner-related trauma.”
“You too, king,” Zherdev said, flicking him another coin.
An Azure Watch guard strode up with two others behind him, silver filigree catching the evening light. He took in the scattered fruit, the broken axle, the scorch marks, and Zherdev’s armor with the cold concentration of a museum critic judging vandalism.
“This behavior is an offense against civic beauty,” the guard declared.
Zherdev nodded rapidly. “Totally valid. Completely hear you.”
He placed three gold in the guard’s hand.
The guard weighed the coins once, then tucked them away with smooth professional dignity.
“Your reparations display sincerity,” he said. He pointed at Zherdev’s cape. “The orange secondary flare cheapens the purple.”
Zherdev looked genuinely wounded. “Really?”
“It screams for attention.”
“Oh.” Zherdev frowned. “Can that be fixed?”
The guard’s expression softened by a full millimeter. “The Chromatic Thread could save it, if the artisan feels merciful.”
“Bro,” Zherdev breathed. “Thank you.”
The stall owner bowed so fast it looked painful. One of the porters started collecting pears with devotional intensity. The whistle stopped. The plaza flowed again. Gold had sanded the whole incident smooth in under a minute.
Finn stared. Jax stared harder. Valdrias gave a solemn nod, like he had just witnessed a valid tanking technique.
Julie leaned toward Lily and murmured, “Honestly? Efficient.”
Vami watched Zherdev with the feverish respect of one min-maxer discovering a new species of build.
Kage stepped over a smashed wheel spoke and sent the party invite.
[Kage has invited Zherdev_The_Great to join the party.]
Zherdev accepted instantly.
[Zherdev_The_Great - Lvl 19 Berserker has joined the party.]
[Party Members: 10/10]
The moment the party panel updated, Zherdev’s face lit up again. He bounded forward, slipped on a pear skin, corrected with a wild pinwheel, then planted himself directly in front of Kage.
“KAGE,” he boomed. “My brother in violence. My eternal carry. My partner in greatness. The legendary duo rides again.”
He spread both arms like he expected applause from the city, then his eyes tracked across the party interface.
He squinted. His mouth fell open.
He jabbed a finger at Kage like he’d found a crime scene.
“Poet?”
The whole group looked at Kage.
Zherdev’s voice jumped an octave. “WHAT THE FUCK KAGE? Poet? Is this the end of the legendary duo? What happened to you?”
Kage kept his face flat.
Good. Thirty seconds in and he’s already yelling in front of nine people and a fruit graveyard.
“My main class is hidden,” Kage said. “I’m not explaining it. You don’t need to worry.”
Zherdev held that in his head for two solid seconds. Kage could almost hear the gears grinding through decorative smoke and poor impulse control.
Then realization hit.
“Ohhh.” Zherdev nodded with gathering confidence. “Secret tech.”
Kage said nothing.
“Advanced concealment,” Zherdev continued. “Mask class. Hidden progression. Legendary people stuff.”
“Sure,” Kage said.
Zherdev slapped both hands together. “Sick. I knew it. No matter. With me around, the legendary duo can still perform.”
Zara closed her eyes.
Ren looked at Kage once, then at Zherdev, then at the crowd of bystanders still staring at the flaming cape. He gave the smallest possible exhale. It might have been a laugh. It might have been pity.
Jax pointed openly. “Forget the duo thing. You’re level nineteen?”
“Yep.”
“And what the hell are you wearing?”
Zherdev beamed.
“A curated combat ensemble.”
“It looks like ten separate bad decisions,” Zara said.
He took that as admiration.
“I upgraded before the raid,” he said proudly. “Went shopping all over Korros. Hit the crafters too. Got custom shine work done. Check this out.”
He started pointing at himself.
“Left pauldron, level eight Rare. [Comet Tyrant’s Shoulder]. Leaves a star trail when I charge. Right pauldron, level twelve Rare. Found it on the market. It leaks shadow smoke because the old owner got corrupted or whatever. Chest, level eleven Rare. Rose petal crit effect. Absolute heater. Cape, level fourteen Rare. Fire trim. Greaves are fifteen. Sword’s fifteen too. I had the smith add spark spit on unsheathe and a solar burst on overhead swings. Cost extra. Worth every coin.”
He turned in place to show off the whole catastrophe.
The magma plate pulsed.
The shadow shoulder exhaled black haze.
The cape shed orange fire in tasteful little coughs.
Somewhere in the layering of particle effects, the chestpiece released three glowing rose petals that drifted into a drainage grate.
Finn actually leaned forward, overwhelmed in the exact way a man might react to seeing a peacock armed by venture capital.
“That’s... a lot.”
“Right?” Zherdev said.
Julie covered a smile. “You commissioned extra visual effects?”
“Oh, totally. There’s a guy in the Artisan’s Quarter who can add radiant edge bloom to metal for a fee. Another one lacquered my scabbard so the flame reflections look meaner.” He lowered his voice confidentially. “I think the guards respect me more.”
“The guards just billed you for existing,” Zara said.
He flashed her a thumbs-up. “Exactly.”
Kage gave the gear another sweep through the party panel.
Level nineteen. Berserker. Gear spread all over the place. The item effects looked flashy, situational, and mostly useless.
Functionally, he’s a chandelier.
Vami leaned in, eyes wide. “That shoulder leaks shadow on a separate cycle from the magma. You desynced the proc timings on purpose?”
Zherdev stared at him. “...Yeah.”
“Bro.”
“Bro.”
Julie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please never encourage this.”
Kage cut in before the two of them could start comparing visual pollution as a philosophy.
“We’re wasting time. Take us to the entrance.”
Zherdev scratched the back of his neck.
The movement made his cape catch on one of his spikes. He untangled it with both hands and laughed once. Too high. Too quick.
“Well.”
Kage’s eyes narrowed.
“Well what.”
“So.” Zherdev lifted one palm. “Tiny issue.”
Zara inhaled through her nose.
“The old lady who sold me the key,” Zherdev said, “she never actually said where the entrance is.”
Silence hit the group.
Then Lily rubbed her forehead.
Then Jax slapped a hand over his eyes.
Then Finn whispered, “Oh no.”
Valdrias facepalmed with the grave sincerity of a knight completing a ritual.
Julie leaned against Vami’s shoulder and laughed directly into his armor. Vami failed to stay annoyed because he was already grinning.
Kage stared at Zherdev.
“You bought a raid key,” he said, very calm, “for a hidden dungeon with a shifting entrance.”
“Correct.”
“You paid a hundred gold for it.”
Zherdev coughed. “That part feels hostile.”
“Kage,” Zara said, voice flat as a blade. “I’m logging out.”
“Waitwaitwait, it was a package deal,” Zherdev blurted. “You can’t judge it cleanly because there were some collector components and an associated appraisal fee and a horse.”
“A horse,” Jax repeated.
“Long story.”
Kage pressed two fingers against his temple.
Of course. Of course…
Zherdev thrust both hands forward, eager to salvage his own execution.
“Wait, wait, I have useful intel. Get this. Sometimes the key starts... vibrating.”
Kage looked up sharply.
“It did once,” Zherdev said. “When I was getting the special effects on my sword done.”
Proximity trig...
“Proximity trigger,” Zara said at the exact same time.
Kage turned his head.
She folded her arms. “Yes. The obvious answer.”
He looked back at Zherdev. “Where were you when it reacted?”
“In the city. Somewhere artsy.” He thought hard. “Lots of hammers. Fancy smoke. One elf insulted my taste.”
“Artisan’s Quarter,” Julie said.
“That sounds right, actually,” Lily added.
Zara’s expression sharpened. “The entrance is hidden inside Korros. The key pings when it gets close. Fine. That’s workable.”
Jax groaned. “So we’re doing a hot-and-cold hunt through a city with ten people.”
“With one of them on fire,” Julie said.
Zherdev looked down at his cape. “It’s mostly decorative.”
Kage exhaled once.
“Fine. We sweep the districts. Stay together. Finn, send the hawk up and keep eyes on roofs and alleys. Zara, watch the key and shut up if you’re about to say ‘I told you so.’ Jax, Vami... just don’t start a duel because somebody looks at you funny.”
Julie looked at him. "That's exactly what he'd do, how did you know?"
Vami spread both hands. “Hey, that happened only once.”
“Move,” Kage said.
They headed down the Mosaic Path as the crowd thickened around them.
Korros glowed under drifting Luma-Orbs, every lamp painting soft gold over white limestone and glass. Street performers competed with auction criers. Mosaics shifted color underfoot as the light changed. Their ten-man party moved through it like a parade curated by several separate gods.
Kage in charcoal and burgundy. Vami in blinding white leather. Julie clean and practical beside him. Lily in bright priestly trim. Zara with all the charm of a sharpened spreadsheet. Finn glancing at the sky every few seconds like the open air still felt borrowed. Jax built like an argument. Valdrias carrying his slab of a shield with solemn knight energy. Ren quiet, centered, stepping through the crowd with exact distances. Then Zherdev, radiating wealth, heat, petals, sparks, and emotional instability.
Half the street turned to look.
Zherdev took it as confirmation of excellence.
As they walked, he launched into stories.
“So back in Ruinwake Online,” he said loudly, “Kage and I were doing this world boss, right, total nightmare, impossible mechanics, everybody was getting farmed. I drew aggro on purpose, obviously.”
“You died in six seconds,” Kage said.
“Exactly. Bait strategy. While the boss was emotionally committed to my sacrifice, my man logged in and surgically removed its bloodline.”
Finn looked between them. “You two played together a lot?”
Zherdev threw an arm around empty air near Kage because Kage sidestepped at the last second.
“We are legends,” he declared. “When history calls for violence and style, we answer.”
Kage kept walking.
He remembers legends. I remember wire transfers and hospital invoices.
Zherdev kept going.
“There was another time in Siege of the Last Arch where I got trapped on a rock in a volcanic zone. Long story, escort guild scam, cliff geometry, freak accident. Anyway, Kage came in alone, fought through like three mini-bosses, and carried my gear back while I offered tactical guidance.”
“You screamed for ten minutes.”
“I was providing morale.”
Julie laughed openly now. Even Zara’s mouth twitched.
Valdrias listened with total seriousness. “A rock is a difficult formation to tank from.”
“THANK you,” Zherdev said.
They crossed into a wider lane lined with metalworkers and sculptors. Rhythmic hammering rolled through the air in tuned beats, each strike answering another down the street. Chromatic fire pulsed in forge mouths, green to blue to white. The air smelled of hot oil, charcoal dust, and lavender soap from the dyers further ahead.
Zherdev’s story halted in the middle of a dramatic hand movement.
He had stopped dead in front of Valdrias.
“What the HELLY is that, bro?”
Valdrias blinked. “This is my shield.”
“I can see that. Why does it look like a punished door?”
He pointed at the Bark-Iron shield strapped to Valdrias’s arm.
“You want to tank for the legendary duo with this piece of slab? Here, take this.”
Before anyone could stop him, he opened his inventory and produced a shield so reflective it threw a clean stripe of light across the road.
The thing was enormous. Mirror-bright steel. Gilt edging. A raised sunburst boss in the center. It looked like a cathedral window and a military budget had a child.
Valdrias accepted only after staring at the shield like it might contain a political doctrine.
The item window popped up over his hand.
[Sun-Mirror Rampart]
Quality: Rare
Type: Tower Shield
Armor: +62
Strength: +4
Stamina: +15
Requirement: Level 15, 20 STR, 30 STAM
Passive Effect: [Gilded Challenge] - After activating a shield taunt, gain +15% Damage Reduction for 5 seconds.
Description: A polished fortress of a shield, crafted for knights who believed defense should be witnessed from several streets away.
Valdrias looked at Kage immediately.
Kage gave the item one glance and nodded.
“Equip it. Raw stats alone make it worth it. And it’s a good time to stop leaning on the Bark shield’s acoustic gimmick.”
Valdrias absorbed that like a sacred instruction. “Understood.”
He swapped shields.
The difference was immediate. The new shield sat heavier on his arm, but it fit his frame far better than its ridiculous shine suggested. The gold caught the streetlight and made him look like a holy monument to violence.
Zherdev stepped back and pointed.
“There. Now you look like someone who can oppress a dungeon.”
Valdrias raised the shield once, testing the weight.
“Tyranny feels stable,” he said.
Zara made a small choking sound. Kage looked away before the laugh reached his face.
The shield swap shook something loose in his memory.
Inventory. Ashenvale. After the BeefSupreme mess.
Right.
He opened his inventory and pulled out the green-bound book he had been carrying around.
“Lily.”
She looked over. “Hm?”
He tossed it.
She caught it against her chest, blinked, then opened the item panel.
[Hymnal of Gentle Mending]
Lily’s eyes widened.
“Whoa.”
A tiny, ancient reflex flashed through Kage’s head. Green healer book. Sellable. Clean margin. Waste to hand it out for free. The thought passed through him like a gust through an open room. It left no weight behind.
He kept walking.
“You can use it,” he said. “It dropped for me. You’ll get more out of it.”
Lily hurried a step to stay beside him. “Kage, this is actually really good.”
Julie leaned over to inspect it and nodded immediately. The veteran healer in her surfaced at once.
“Castable while moving is huge,” she said.
Lily brightened. “I have one skill slot left, actually. This fits perfectly.”
She pressed the book to her palm.
A soft green light opened under the cover. Script lifted off the pages in thin threads and flowed into her hand, then into the holy sigil at her wrist. The book crumbled into motes and vanished. Lily flexed her fingers once like she could feel the new cast settling into muscle memory.
“Thank you,” she said, warm and direct. “Seriously.”
Kage gave a shrug.
“Use it well.”
She smiled anyway. She always saw through the excuse layer. A few steps later, Zherdev looked between them and frowned.
“Wait. Skill books?”
Julie slowed enough to answer without breaking stride.
“Yeah. Rare drops, quest rewards, achievement stuff, hidden trainers. Depends.” She lifted a hand and started counting on armored fingers. “You get a limited number of book slots. The game keeps them scarce on purpose. Magic classes get more. Healers too, usually. Melee classes get two or three most of the time, sometimes less.”
Jax grimaced. “I’ve got two. Both spoken for.”
“Same,” Vami said. “And mine are peak.”
Julie patted his arm. “One of yours is a self-buff that literally yells for attention.”
“It’s thematic.”
“It’s loud.”
Zherdev looked horrified. “Hold up. So I could have had extra skills this whole time?”
Zara gave him a long look. “You bought a flaming sword that sets your pants on fire.”
“It looks sick.”
“That was not the question.”
Finn scratched his cheek. “How do people decide what to take?”
Julie answered him this time, patient and easy. “Depends on class. Casters chase efficiency, mobility, cleanse, emergency save tools. Melee usually grab survivability, gap closers, maybe utility if their core kit already covers damage. Slots matter more than books, honestly. Finding the right one is the hard part.”
Kage filed that away.
Useful. If I ever have spare time.
His class already encompassed almost everything he could think of. Finding a suitable Skill Book will be challenging to work in favour, not against, his class. He guessed QoL passive skills would be the best bet. He also didn't know how many skill book slots he had; his interface didn't display such information.
They turned another corner.
The noise of Korros changed.
The Golden Plaza’s crowd murmur fell behind them. The Artisan’s Quarter took over fully. Anvils rang in tuned notes. Dyers stirred steaming pigment vats that stained the air with crushed berry, wet linen, and sharp mineral salts. Sculptors worked under lantern light while chips of pale stone clicked across the pavement like teeth.
Kage felt the city shift around him here.
Words lived in this district. Shape. Color. Intention pressed into matter. Korros understood that language better than the road ever had.
Zherdev was halfway through another story about “the time Kage soloed an anti-air serpent while I handled optics” when he froze.
His face changed.
“Uh,” he said. “Guys?”
Everyone stopped.
He reached into his inventory and pulled out the Curator’s Invitation.
It looked like a brass key at first glance. Then the details resolved. The bow was shaped like a tiny theater mask framed in filigree. The shaft carried etched lines fine enough to pass for calligraphy. It belonged in a collector’s case, not a dungeon crawl.
And in Zherdev’s palm, it moved, the metal twitched once. Then it struck his skin again. A pulse. Stronger this time.
Not exactly a vibration, more like a beat.
Another followed it. Then another, quick and urgent, like something small and living had started kicking inside the brass.
The whole party leaned in.
Zherdev’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, that is way stronger than before.”
Kage watched the key throb against the whale’s hand and lifted his gaze toward the forge-lit streets ahead.
Somewhere inside the Artisan’s Quarter, a door had just started breathing.
And it was close.