I’ve decided, Eric thought, I’m not going to tell Misty about the whole improved longevity thing with three Classes under the Polymerized primal force Class. There’s no need when I can just capture her soul upon death and we can bring her back.
[That is fair enough.]
Eric let out a groan as he sat up. It was a lot faster than he wanted, as he almost shot up in place. Everything was faster now; whenever he moved, gestured, or took any action, his body responded much faster to his brain’s signals. He had to consciously try and keep himself moving slower, and at a more ‘human’ reaction time.
Misty was still snoozing next to him, and he leaned over—intentionally trying to move as painstakingly slow as possible—gave her a little kiss, and then got up, dressed out, grabbed his new Leysteel Short Sword, and headed toward Naomi’s workshop. On his way down the stairs, he encountered Mari, who was at the door, speaking to someone.
“Mari, how are you?”
She looked back at him, and had a dour look on her face. “We have some visitors from Deepwater Hold.”
Eric froze in place on the steps. “Ah . . . I have a guess as to who they are.” He walked over to the door and opened it the rest of the way.
A middle-aged woman, wrapped in heavy clothes and wearing an oil-cloth cloak, was standing on the porch. She had a weathered look about her, and a sad gaze in her eyes.
Mari cleared her throat. “Madam, this is Blackflame Warlock Eric Baxter.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, and she looked to bite back some harsh words.
Eric knew this moment was coming, and he tapped Mari’s shoulder. “Please go and fetch my portion of the estate fund.” Mari curtsied and departed, and Eric stepped into the doorway, setting his sword off to the side of the frame. “Madam . . . I have no excuses. Whatever you want to say, say it.”
The woman let out a string of curses, a tirade that Eric let hit him. After the insult-laden spree of words, as she was seething, she said, “I’m here for what is owed. This . . . whatever-gild that I’m owed for my three boys.”
That hit Eric like a stab to the stomach—which was a sensation he was acutely familiar with thanks to his self-sacrificial healing Rote. “I’m . . . there’s nothing that can be done to replace your loved ones lost,” he said as he hung his head in shame. It wasn’t a show of shame, either. It was true, actual shame.
The grieving mother was crying on the porch. “I hope you live with this for your whole creator-damned life, you monster. Blackflame Butcher, that’s what you’ll always be. I hope you never find a moment of peace as long as you live.”
Eric didn’t reply to that. He brought his eyes up to hers and held her gaze.
I was caught up in the moment, Eric thought, did something I regret, and I have to live with it. The Admiral’s operation was stopped, thousands of lives were saved thanks to the flow of drugs being stopped. Millions will be saved when Trok is in a better position before the war can begin. Billions, when I stop the Titan’s awakening. In the grand scheme of things, three children is a small price to pay. If I could bring them back from beyond the veil of death for you, I would.
Mari came back with three sacks of coins. Eric grabbed the one full of gold—his cut of the estate fund, which counted up to three-hundred, and handed the whole sack to the woman. “Here. Money cannot bring your boys back, I know. I promise you I will live with this shame for my life.” Eric grabbed the short sword and brought himself up to his full height. “The deaths that happened in the course of my duties, though regrettable, are the price for securing the future of the kingdom. If you will excuse me, I must continue to preserve her future.”
Eric turned on his heel and headed to Naomi’s workshop. He had blown through all of his money, but that was fine—Misty was rich and he was going to be just fine. He still had plenty of silver and copper in his split of the estate funds, plus his personal finances weren’t shabby. The woman had enough money to live a life of pure luxury for the rest of her days. It was overkill for a weregild, but for losing three sons . . . Eric knew it wasn’t nearly enough.
He got to Naomi’s workshop, knocked, and when she called out, “Come on in!” he entered. The Silence Node blipped off, and when he shut the door it flickered back on. The room had a new addition—a ladder along one wall which went up to a ceiling hatch, presumably going up to her chambers upstairs. There was also another hatch in the floor directly below that, and Eric guessed it went down to the basement level.
“Is the basement down there cut off from the servant’s quarters?” Eric asked as he walked up behind Naomi, who was leaning over her workbench.
“Mhmm,” she replied. “I made sure to put in a couple extra walls.” She glanced up at him. “My new Class was actually somewhat useful, despite what I thought before. Can you believe we get to have super-longevity just by getting to a higher level?” She sounded more like herself than ever before, as if the Makerspark was fully subdued and under her control.
Eric sat down next to her and put his short sword on the bench. “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.”
She glanced at the sword. “Where’d you get that?”
“New blade of office.” Eric tapped it. “I need you to do something to it. I know you got the Ashes from my little expedition into that invasion dungeon refined down.”
“Yeah, I slipped out with Mama K to do that.” Naomi leaned back and tapped the table in front of her. “What do you think?”
Eric looked over. He saw a map of the Kingdom of Trok, and Naomi was plotting out rail lines. “Did you talk to Marley Baxter?”
“I did,” Naomi replied with a grin. “James and I talked to his mom, Andedroma, and along with the Queen’s blessing, we’re planning out a manatech rail line.” She pointed down into the basement. “I know how to pipe raw mana and use it to generate electricity. Other manatech Artisans have been working on it, and they’ve figured it out—but they’ve kept it secret.” She shook her head. “Not me. But, I am putting in a failsafe. At Indedroma’s will, she can turn the whole entire grid offline. No manatech powered war crimes.”
Indedroma spoke in both of their minds.
[Thanks to the Makerspark and Naomi giving me some level of override control via her Paths Within, I can have local administration capabilities. Even if something were to happen to her in the Twilight Depths—should worst come to worst—the manatech will keep working.]
“But you have the override to prevent war crimes,” Eric concluded. “Excellent.” He tapped the map. “So you’re going to work on installing the generators in the mountains behind the citadel, in some fortified bunkers, and then run the electricity lines underground, since we have no tectonic activity?”
Naomi nodded. “We’ll run them to distribution hubs at the depots that will run from the north, south, and east. Primary rail lines will run from Tenebria to the main cities, with the electricity lines running under the rails. The whole thing will be electrified, as will the outside of the trains, to prevent mana beasts from interacting with them.”
Eric nodded. “Just like the last timeline. Except that time, you were going with above-ground electricity, which was dumb, because invaders knocked them down.”
Naomi shook her head. “Other-timeline me was dumb.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Eric tapped the sword. “Now, what can we do with this?”
Naomi grabbed it. “Leysteel. Well, you’ve got your grimoire for amplifying your Skills and Rotes. You don’t really fight with weapons, but having a backup is always nice. It’s just a sword of office otherwise.”
Eric leaned forward on the workbench. “What would you suggest? I never carried a sword in my past timeline.”
She tapped her fingers on the blade. “Hmm . . . Leysteel is exceptional as a mana conductor and storage device. Want it to just be a mana battery?”
“That’ll work with my new Conduit Class.”
“It’ll take quite a few of the Rare Components I got from the conversion of Monster Parts earlier.” Naomi set the sword down and opened a drawer, pulling out a bunch of silvery, cubic shapes. “Twenty of them. That puts us at one-hundred and ninety.” She set all of the Components on the blade, and then her hands flared with crackling light-blue electricity as she pushed her palms against the Components, smushing them down into the sword.
A Sigil vanished from the back of her left hand, and with a bright flash of energy, the blade was whole and the blocks were gone. “Done,” she said as she handed it to him. “It should be able to store fifty-percent of your full mana reservoir.”
Eric grabbed it and began to feel the blade draw from his current mana reservoir. “So, in effect, I have two-hundred-fifty percent capacity now. Myself, my Mana Skin, and this.” He chuckled. “That’s excellent with my new Class.”
“How so?”
Eric gave her a quick run down of his new Rotes, Skills, and Traits, ending with, “I wonder why Indedroma never gave us a mana bar or anything like that?”
[It would be a pain in the ass. Same with a health bar. How do you track something like that, anyways? The body has so many components and bits and pieces, you can’t quantify that into a bar of health. Mana, sure you could. Do you want me to? I could add it if you really want me to, but then I need to put a value to every Rote you have.]
Naomi said, “Can you do it on a case-by-case basis?”
[Nope. It’s Paths-wide. I’d have to make the change for everyone, or keep it as-is. I did think of it in an earlier iteration, but in my first few tests it was seen as overbearing. Most people preferred to have a ‘sense’ of the mana in their body rather than a constantly-in-their-sight bar.]
Eric chuckled and stood up. “I’m good, thanks. I feel pretty in touch with my mana reservoir. Thanks for the work, Naomi. Ready for the Twilight Depths later?”
“We’re going this afternoon I believe.” Naomi turned back to her map. “Oh, also, I checked in with the others—all spouses and Benson, which means Mari as well in all likelihood, have been informed of part of the truth of what is going on.” She glanced back at Eric. “Your spouse is the only one with the full picture. I hope your trust isn’t misplaced.”
“I don’t think it is,” Eric replied. “That means the only people with the full truth are us Summoned, Misty, the Spymaster, and Darius.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way. The rest have been informed through the lens of your visions being the cause of our foresight.” Naomi waved goodbye with a backhand and turned her full attention to her project once more.
Eric departed and as he closed the door behind him and walked down the small hall, he chose to stop in place and activate Mana Channel. His whole body locked in place, but he felt an incredible rush of energy and saw as the ambient mana in the atmosphere around him—glimmering specks of blue and purple—surged into his body. The sword in his grip flared with the same color light before returning to its usual hue, and his entire body was full up on mana. It took five seconds to fill to full.
[Extrapolating from that, going from empty in your primary ‘your body’ reservoir to full will take ten seconds. That means if your sword and Mana Skin are empty, it’ll be twenty-five seconds for a full refill.]
Sounds good to me, Eric thought as he headed back to his room.
***
The Summoned were headed down the main boulevard, flanked by their troupe of four spies who were acting as a group of drunkards on their way to another bar. Now, the Summoned were well-known, and Eric was a prominent figure of Trok’s upper-class, having been witnessed at the coronation as the right-hand of the Queen.
People parted way when they saw him coming.
Shannon let out a little whistle. “People really move away for the big-wigs, eh?”
Eric nodded, brushing some drifting snowflakes from his shoulder. “That’s how it is. I didn’t ask for fame, but it does make some things easier.”
“I wouldn’t mind it,” Peter replied as he kept one hand gripping the strap holding his shield to his back. “Though the looks are a bit much.”
The group made their way to the crevasse where the Twilight Concourse was located, but before going in, Eric led them to another building. Going inside, he strode up to the front counter, where a young man was standing, looking bored. He immediately stood up straighter once Eric entered and pulled back his hood.
“Good day, sir, how can I help you?”
Eric glanced at Shannon, and she walked up. “We want to register a dungeon organization!”
The Clerk nodded and reached under the counter, pulling up a large book, and then also grabbed an ink pen. “Very good. We need to do a few pieces of paperwork. First off, what is the name to be?”
Shannon looked back at the group. They had discussed it, and gone back and forth a few times, but since Indedroma was in The Paths, and they were working towards putting her into the Titan, and they all had an armor-like ability that made them appear draconic . . . Shannon looked at the Clerk and said, “We are the Dragon Divers.”
The Clerk made a note. “Very good. Emblem?”
Shannon pulled out a slip of paper and set it down. It showed a western-style dragon, in flight, as if viewed from above, flying straight down, as if dive-bombing something directly below it. “This should do.”
“Wonderful.” The Clerk took the slip and set it aside. “There is also a registration fee.”
Shannon slipped ten gold worth of scrip on the counter. “We want the worldwide registration.”
“Of course.” The Clerk grabbed the money, jotted down a few more notes, and then expended a dull, brown-looking Sigil from the back of his hand. The book glowed the same color. “It has been recorded and sent across all ledgers from every dungeon registry across Elyndor.” He looked up. “Member names?”
Shannon pointed at each person in turn. “Shannon Valagonia, Peter Ghulara, Naomi Marshall, and Eric Baxter.”
The Clerk paused at hearing Eric’s name and looked up at him. “The knight-errant? Blackflame Executioner?”
Eric nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”
The Clerk looked back down and finished his scribbling. “Wow, okay,” he muttered under his breath. He blew on the ink and then looked up at the group. “Are you electing for badges or marks?”
“Marks,” Eric said as he walked up and put his right hand on the countertop. “Mana-coded.”
The Clerk glanced at the rest. “All agreed?”
Naomi, Peter, and Shannon all followed suit. “Yup,” Peter said.
The Clerk grabbed Shannon’s artwork and held it in front of his face, then passed his hand over their hands as he spent another Sigil.
A little flush of cool air passed over Eric’s hand, and a tattoo appeared, blazing with black and white, monochromatic light which then slowly pulsed before fading to a dull gray. The same symbol that Shannon had drawn, that had the name of the dungeon organization written in the center in an elegant text.
“And all done!” the Clerk said. “Thank you for registering.” He looked at Eric and dipped his head. “And thank you for protecting the kingdom.”
“I serve our Queen’s will,” Eric replied as he dipped his head in return. “Oh, and we cleared a wild dungeon between here and Deepwater Hold under the name Primal Divers, but we chose to change the name before arriving here.”
“I’ll match up the records.”
Eric departed. His allies quickly joined him.
Shannon said, “Awesome! Now, we’re official!”
Naomi had a grin as well. “Other than marking us permanently, it is pretty sweet.”
Eric led them into the Twilight Concourse, and eyes followed them as they went into the crevasse. They were now well-known figures across the capital. Not just Summoned, but tied into the old-blood of Tenebria, who had helped bring a corrupt small council to justice. They were not just public figures, they were renowned figures who helped the kingdom in a massive way, improving the lives of the people by destroying those who would harm its interests.
Sure, the common folk might not see the change immediately, but the Baxter family’s media spin via the gazetteer’s had done its work. People said their thanks, several gave little bows, or dipped their heads in appreciation, as the Summoned passed by.
They reached the Twilight Depths, and thankfully the main chamber with the portal leading to the mega dungeon was empty. The door to Bortis’ office was open, and Eric glanced inside. It was empty.
Good, I was hoping to avoid that conversation.
Eric walked over to the chains and didn’t feel the metal through his glove. He looked back at his allies. “Now,” he said, “We don’t have to hide our strength, how deep we go, or any of that. Feel free to brag. In fact, I would argue, the more we flaunt our power, the better—it’ll keep people from messing with Trok.”
“Agreed,” Naomi said. “No more secrecy. The Dragon Divers are here, and we’re going to kick some ass.” She grabbed a rope and slid down.
Eric slid down right after her.
[Entering the Twilight Depths.]
[This is not your first time entering this mega dungeon. Please select a floor from the list available.]
[1, 2, 3, 4, 5.]
“Fifth floor,” Eric said as he dropped through the black void.
The blackness receded, and Eric found himself standing on a small spur of land in a forsaken landscape. The spit of land he and Naomi were on was only a ten-foot-wide path. On their left was a pit of caustic acid, on the right was a bubbling, roiling pool of lava, and from above, chunks of razor-sharp ice slammed down. Thankfully, this arrival area was covered in some type of protective dome.
Peter and Shannon arrived a few moments later. “Holy fuck,” Peter said as he landed. “This place looks intense.”
“No shit,” Shannon replied.
Eric walked to the edge of the protective shell and looked out upon the landscape ahead. It was a tumultuous mix of the most hostile lands he had ever seen—fields of razor-sharp glass shards that blew in the wind like blades of grass, lava fields with chunks of rock that looked like they had to be skipped across, glacier fields with massive chunks of ice that seemed to need summiting, and acid waterfalls with rock walls poking out between like handholds.
But, the good news was that off in the distance, maybe a mile away, he could see the Dungeon Core on a pedestal, and the white-limned exit portal. But the path between where he was and there was treacherous.
Eric said, “This is going to suck.”