Returning to the cellar of the small monastery, the victorious group was welcomed with over a dozen Aerilians waiting for them.
They were composed mostly of healers who were there as an insurance in case the group suffered significant injuries or lost Loras'ki during the trial. Their triumphant expressions quickly morphed into dread as the Aerilians noticed both princes encased in their protective barriers.
“Stop gawking and get to work,” Loras'ki bellowed, tearing the less experienced healers from their shocked states. “First, we need to stabilize Duraq'er’s condition and save his leg before it's too late.”
Their training kicked in, and they swarmed the center of the circle like bees, pulling out various instruments, and spreading them on the…
Huh, John blinked in surprise as he noticed that the dusty old floor was covered with a translucent material similar to plastic sheet.
It was an odd experience, watching them work. John was certain they all possessed healing abilities, but they were also preparing what looked like field-surgery equipment and arguing which potions they should use to best counter the lingering nether energies.
He and the rest of the group vacated the summoning platform, but remained near the stairway, watching the medical team at work.
Their preparations were cut short a minute later when the translucent crystal around Duraq'er's emitted a sharp crack and split in the middle like a cut apple. Before Duraq'er's body faltered and fell to the ground, Loras'ki caught him under his shoulders and gently lowered him down on top of a prepared stretcher.
A woman with vibrant blue eyes immediately doused his cut-open thigh with an amber liquid, and three other healers began chaining their various abilities. The infected wound first dried up, stopping the spread of the corrupting energy up toward his groin, and then slowly regained a healthy color.
After that, the same woman pulled out a tube of sticky paste and glued the deep cut back together.
This all happened under the watchful eye of the main healer, Loras'ki, who mostly remained silent and watched their work. The procedure took roughly fifteen seconds, and only after the leg was fully cleansed, and the wound sealed, did Loras'ki offer a small nod and turned toward John and Friala'el.
“Can you describe the injury his Highness prince Melis'ar suffered?” He asked with a small hitch in his voice. “Give me as much detail as you can, because even the smallest thing could prove crucial.”
“I couldn't see much,” Friala'el answered first. “When it happened, the Hierarch stood with his back to me, covering most of my view.”
“I did…” John took over and quickly described the way Melis'ar took the blow to his lower back.
Loras'ki further clarified a few details and then sighed in relief, mumbling something about it being better than he feared. After that, the Aerilian healer returned to his patients, leaving John to his own thoughts.
We got very lucky that everyone made it out alive.
Ever since he left the city with Dilah'ec and Galan'il, he started realizing that his current repertoire of abilities wasn't keeping up with his growth. The minions already out served their purpose. In the early days of the Apocalypse, they were a great distraction and source of consistent damage, allowing John to punch far above his proverbial weight class, but now… now he was the heavy weight.
He would be lying if he said discarding some of his cards didn’t bother him at all. After all, he liked the four minions and felt like being a combat summoner was a cool concept.
Unfortunately, his Storm Wisp was proving less and less powerful, having minimal effect against the high D-grade threats and barely any at all against the C-grade ones. Something similar went with the Desert Wraith. He could see a place for it in his arsenal as a distraction and crowd control utility, but would it work better than a purely offensive or defensive card? Most likely, no.
I could ask Duraq’er for some tips, he pondered, looking at the poor guy whose leg was currently glowing in soothing azure light and mending itself back into shape.
One thing he was certain about, though, his Blessed Stiletto and the Purifying Flameling were staying in. His first epic card was extremely versatile and with its inconspicuous nature, it definitely had enough potential to act as a centerpiece of his battle style. The other card was still effective enough against the undead, and with its violent interaction the moment its flames touched his blood, it was worth keeping in. Besides, he almost forgot that he could potentially unseal it, turning it into an Epic rarity as well.
Maybe I could try switching…
A sharp crack pulled John out of his thoughts, announcing the end of duration on Ulian’al’s protective shell.
This time, it was the head healer himself, who started the procedure. He used two of his cards in a quick succession, and then directed his subordinates by calling different abilities that they used on top of Ulian’al’s exposed back.
“Did we… all… make it?” The prince mumbled through gritted teeth.
“That we did,” Friala’el stepped toward him and gently touched his shoulder. “I am proud of you,” she added very softly, but John picked it up due to his temporarily boosted Perception.
Prince Melis’ar’s shell shattered a moment later, and John noticed the prince’s face running through a myriad of expressions. There was relief, confusion, fear, and as Melis’ar’s eyes fell on his younger brother’s sitting form, there was once again relief intermixed with uncertainty.
“You,” he took a pause and swallowed, “you saved my life.”
“I… I did,” his brother, nodded. “It…”
“Let's give the healers more space,” Friala'el declared and started ushering the rest of the group out.
That's fair, John threw a glance at the two princes and walked up the stairs and out of the monastery.
“There is a garden with a place to sit on the other side,” Dilah'ec suggested, pointing them to the place they took rest a couple of days earlier.
“Good idea,” Galan'il smiled.
“How about I bring something to eat so we can celebrate our victory,” John offered, painting a wide grin on both Hakar'li’s and Sakhul'la’s faces.
“A proper celebration requires proper drinks,” Sakhul’la cheered.
“I'll see what I can get,” John promised, and focused on opening the archway to his Citadel. However, the moment it fully manifested on the grass before him, Friala'el tapped him on his shoulder and softly asked, “do you, by chance, have the second upgrade for your inn?”
“Mhm,” John nodded in response. “Do you want something specific?”
“Could you get me a small cask of Silvervale Stardew?” She grinned, immediately pushing a pile of yellow ash into his hand.
“I could ask.”
It turned out that yes, he was able to buy the cask from Slayer of Gorax’thal for ten yellows, but the drink was far more powerful than its name implied.
After John finished his large celebratory meal order, something the youthful innkeeper helped with immensely, he asked about the cask and received an unexpected warning.
It was an exquisite alcoholic beverage held in a foot-tall silver cask and classified for mid C-grades. As such, it was pretty much lethally toxic to anyone at the F or E-grade and very dangerous to those in D-grade.
Well, she paid for it so who am I to judge her choices, John shrugged after he stuffed everything into his spatial storage and walked out.
Remembering which food box and bottle of spirits were for whom, John gave out the meals according to Slayer of Gorax’thal’s suggestions and received grateful smiles and appreciative thanks in return.
“Ahhh, nothing like a cold beer after a successful mission,” Hakar'li clanked his metallic cup with Sakhul'la's and they both drank the entire thing in one go.
Dilah'ec shook her head at their antics, and sipped her fruity vine, keeping up aristocratic mannerisms despite the familiar faces around her.
Unable to resist the enticing smells, John dug into his seasoned steak and washed it down with a hearty sip from a tankard filled with mead.
Minutes flew by in a merry mood, and before long, the rest of their group came out of the monastery and joined them.
Melis’ar was supporting Ulian’al and Loras’ki was helping Duraq’er who was heavily favoring his injured leg.
“Come, sit,” John waved them over, scooting closer to Dilah’ec to create some space at the side of the wooden bench.
Meanwhile, Friala’el gestured at Duraq’er to take a seat next to her, pulling out the familiar silver cask from her item storage. The expression on the older Aerilian’s face as he noticed it was kind of hilarious, however the accusatory frown John received from Loras’ki and both princes made him wince.
“One glass,” Melis’ar commanded, “and not a sip more!”
“And the same goes for you, Friala’el,” Ulian’al added. “We can’t have you bedridden for the next couple of days when we are about to initiate the promotion to Citadel.”
John had to admit, it was hilarious, seeing the grizzled veterans looking like a pair of children caught raiding their parents’ hidden cache of sweets.
Damn, now even I am curious about that beverage.
“Do you think I could try it as well?”
Hearing his question, Duraq’er and Friala’el lost their gleeful expressions as they both looked him in the eyes.
“You could,” Duraq’er admitted after a moment of thought, “but…”
“But it isn’t worth it.” Added Friala’el.
“No, it really isn’t.” Duraq’er agreed. “You see… for me and Friala’el, this particular spirit has a deeper significance, and even a single shot will mess us up for a couple of hours. You? Your body might fight its effects off faster than ours, but it is not an experience you would enjoy.”
“I guess that’s fair,” John nodded. “I’ll stick with my mead.”
“And what about the loot?” Hakar’li jumped into the conversation. “Now that we are all here, how about you show us what you got?”
“Sure, I haven’t checked it yet myself, so it’ll be as much of a surprise for me as for you.”
Opening his deck, John pulled out the five cards on top of his discard pile, and placed them in a neat row in the center of the wooden table.
[Promote Bastion
A single-use card used to promote any Bastion into a Citadel, unlocking new upgrades for its available buildings, unlocking new buildings, and increasing its size]
[Immovable Bulwark (E)
Briefly empowers your shield, anchoring it to its position and increasing its durability ten-fold and its weigh thousand-fold.
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
Tags: Duration, Cooldown]
[Chill of the grave (R)
Mark a single enemy, sapping their body-heat, slowing their passive regeneration, and making them more vulnerable to freezing attacks.
Tags: Curse, Duration, Affinity]
[Phantom Jab (R)
Summons an ethereal copy of you that replicates a single stabbing attack. Its direction is chosen upon activation, but its distance is limited up to a maximum of five feet from your position.
Tags: Melee, Piercing, Cooldown]
[Single-use Dexterity Attribute Booster (R)
Can be used to permanently increase your Dexterity by 15, up to a maximum of 70]
“As we agreed, you get to keep everything you deem directly useful to you,” Melis’ar declared after everyone had enough time to read through all five cards.
The princes were gifted better sets of abilities, but to John’s surprise, Duraq’er was eyeing the Bulwark with obvious interest.
“Don’t worry, heavy shields are not my thing,” John chuckled and reached for the Attribute Booster.
That one was the obvious choice, but there was one other that caught his eyes. It was a card depicting a bald monk in loose yellow garment and wielding a short spear. The serene smile on the martial artist’s face clashed with the bloody scene of carnage around him. His last opponent, a hybrid between humanoid and a demon, just parried a straight jab from the spear, but there was also a spectral figure of the same monk already penetrating through the demon’s obsidian scales from his left.
“I believe it is time for me to discard the least useful minions and get some offensive cards, and the Phantom Jab feels like a good fit for my battle style.”
Reaching for the second card, he reopened his deck and switched it with the Storm Wisp. At that moment, a sharp crack of thunder announced the Wisp’s departure back to its home plane.
“The rest is yours.”
Melis’ar was the first to lean over, and his hand went straight for the promotion card. Only when it was safely stored in his deck did he allow Duraq’er to take the Bulwark.
“Could I take the grave’s chill?” Asked Sakhul’la after a moment of silence, looking at its ominous depiction with a thoughtful frown. “I can’t fit it in right now, but after I reach D-grade, I’d be able to put it to a good use.”
A round of nods and shrugs later, he collected the last card, and the true celebration began.
Being a couple of drinks deep and feeling a little tipsy despite his physique and body-modification cards, he and Duraq’er were soon heckled to test their new cards. Of course, who best to test them on then themselves in a friendly spar.
Well, the Silvervale Stardew must have hit Duraq’er’s sealed body much harder than even the Knight-Protector expected, because despite drinking only a single inch-tall glass, he was swaying on his feet and having difficulties to focus on the tip of John’s javelin.
Luckily, John made sure not to get dead ass drunk himself, so he was able to control the spar and make sure none of them came to a serious harm.
It turned out, the Phantom Jab had a cooldown of twenty seconds and able to replicate a single stab with roughly the equal kinetic and penetrating power as the original. To make more tests and also entertain their audience, John also cut off a ten-foot-long tree branch and used it like a lance.
However, Duraq’er evilly grinned at the last second and dashed forward with his small shield, activating the Impenetrable Bulwark. That made John stumble and lose footing as his weapon collided with the immovable wall and exploded into splinters. It also revealed a slight weakness of his new ability, because the moment his attack lost all of its momentum, the phantom also stopped moving and faded out of existence.
Next time, I need to offset the distance from the shield to its wearer to make sure the phantom reaches its target, he realized as his feet slipped on the grass. His bottom half kept moving forward, turning his tumble into a short slide on his back before his body finally stopped before Duraq’er’s feet.
Taking the Knight-Protectors proffered hand, he stood up and laughed with the rest of them at the ridiculous antics, briefly forgetting the dark reality of the world around him.
Over the next few hours, he was begged to bring extra booze more than once, and he even brought some extra refreshments for the Aerilian healers and the squad serving as their guards. It was only when the sun began setting down, when Melis’ar intervened and declared the end of their festivities.
One of the healers possessed an ability specially tailored for sobering sapient individuals, and after he finished his round at the table, everyone except the senior Knight-Protectors were fully sober and ready to depart.
This caused a slightly awkward situation, because when it hit Dilah’ec, she was leaning on John’s shoulder and laughing at something he just said. The ability worked almost instantaneously, making her blink twice in sudden confusion until understanding and a deep blush crept over her fair skin.
That didn’t go unnoticed by Hakar’li and Sakhul’la who, still deep in their cups, exploded with boisterous laughter that only met its untimely end as it became their turn to be sobered up. After that, they both quickly changed into profuse apologies.
At least, Galan’il saved the situation by sending some message to Dilah'ec through their link and led her away to collect herself.
Shaking his head to deal with the jarring onset of clarity, John also walked a couple of steps away and leaned on the western wall of the garden. The afternoon sun was already sagging toward the horizon and painting the sky with an orange glow.
“At first glance, your world seemed a brutish, dark, and unwelcoming place,” Dilah'ec murmured as she joined him by the wall and wistfully looked into the far distance. “But when we left your city and traveled through the Territory, I noticed its charms,” she smiled. “Like this,” she waved her hand toward the setting sun.
“You… don't see something like that in your world?”
“Not like this. Our world… it is mostly covered in never-ending jungles. Some trees are growing so tall, their crowns are far above the clouds and covering miles of land under their canopies. The sun… visible only in the greatest of cities where our population cleared out hundreds of miles of inhospitable terrain to build colossal structures of white marble and precious metals. And the capital, with its emerald palace towering above even the oldest of Starreaching trees,” She paused and tilted her head in the familiar expression of being lost in thought. “My world is a beautiful place. Vibrant, and full of life. But here, the open fields, abandoned villages, lone houses on top of hills… It fills me with a sense of freedom. I could go anywhere I can see and explore the hidden mysteries within.”
“Your world sounds incredible,” John spoke out with awe. “I can’t even begin to imagine how a jungle of trees like those would make me feel, standing there and gazing up to the clouds.”
“Perhaps, If we make it through this,” she offered, placing her hand on his on the top of the wall, “I could show it to you one day.”
“I… I think I’d like that.”
Their moment was interrupted by Ulian’al’s commanding shout, calling everyone to pack up and get ready for departure.
“Well, I guess we should…”
“Mhm,” Dilah’ec nodded and headed toward her Knight-Protector.
“John,” Ulian’al waved him over to him. “Can you help protect the back as we retreat to the Weaver’s Nest? With those two,” he looked at Duraq’er and Friala’el who were doing their best to remain steady on their feet, “we could use someone to protect the healers in case something powerful tries to ambush us from behind.”
“Of course. I’ll make sure nothing happens to them.”
“Also, I appreciate your support and owe you an apology,” the younger prince added after a brief silence. “I must admit, I envied my brother his position and since you had more than a little influence on what he achieved, I was acting with unnecessary distrust and spite toward you.”
“It’s ok. You proved to everyone that you are worthy of their trust today, and from what I’ve overheard, you and your siblings always had… complicated relationships.”
Ulian’al shook his head and sighed. “An understatement, and it will get much worse before we get a chance of making it any better. But that’s for me and Melis’ar to handle.”
Turning to the rest of the group, he took the lead and together, they departed for the Weaver’s Nest.
Luckily, apart from a couple of wild packs of Rothounds and a single roaming elite which got torn apart from their joined attack, they arrived without any complications less than thirty minutes later.
“Let’s go straight to the Silverstar Enclave,” Melis’ar decided as they were passing through the Bastion’s main gate. “It is getting late, and we need at least an hour before the week’s end when we begin our promotion.”
“What exactly will happen?” John asked, but Melis’ar only mysteriously smiled and told him to wait and not ruin the surprise.
Well, if it is anything like the promotion to Bastion, it's going to be something big.
His thoughts were proved right in the next ten minutes as their entire group filled the main command bunker and Melis’ar pulled out the promotional card from his Deck.
“Here it goes,” he tapped it with his second hand, and it crumbled into yellow mist that seeped into the blue pillar before them and transformed it into a bright yellow one.
[Attention!
An Aerilian Bastion called Silverstar Enclave has begun its promotion to Citadel.
All other Shelters and Bastions inside its area of influence have seven days to pledge fealty or declare war against Melis'ar, and all Shelters and Bastions under his control.
As an owner of a Citadel with its seat of power outside the Silverstar Enclave's influence, you are expected to follow its laws or risk getting blacklisted, losing access to its System-provided buildings, and being marked anywhere within its Territory.
Time remaining until full promotion: 6:23:59:54
Note: All Bastions that declare war against the Silverstar Enclave will receive an opportunity to use a one-way teleportation array six hours before the end of full promotion. Their points of arrivals will be chosen randomly somewhere between ten and fifteen miles from the Silverstar Enclave’s Sector]
“And there it is, now all we need to do is...” pausing mid-speech, Melis’ar’s eyes roamed over the empty air before him and a few seconds later, he chuckled. “Guess who just declared a war on us?”
“Iranas’al?”
“The one and only,” Melis’ar confirmed Ulian’al’s guess. “What would I give to see our eldest’s sour face right now. But enough of joking around. John, am I correct to assume that you are planning to leave soon?”
“Yes, I stayed mostly to help you obtain the benefits of killing the Hierarch, but I am leaving when we wrap things up here.”
“And you two? Will you be joining John on his expedition?” Melis’ar looked at Dilah’ec and Galan’il, already expecting a positive reply.
“If you’d have us?”
“Of course,” John smiled. “I’d be happy to have you both with me.”
If that’s all, I guess it is time for us to…
“Very well, but before you leave, I’d like to ask you for a small favor. Could you perhaps take a short rest in my inn?”
“I could. Why do you ask, though?”
“I… am not allowed to say,” Melis’ar winced.
Looking around, it became obvious, that he was the only one not-in-the-know, which left only a single explanation. System-timed shenanigans.
Such a coincidence that the second week of integration is about to end in a little over one hour.
“I think a bath and a short rest sounds like a great idea,” John confirmed. “How about we meet here in one hour and celebrate the week’s end?”
“Perfect,” Melis’ar nodded and looked around. “And it looks like John isn’t the only one who could use a bath.”
Deciding to use his own Inn for convenience, John split away from the others as they passed the challenge board and walked into a nearby street. With barely anyone wandering by, he summoned his archway at the back of the closest gray house and stepped through.
“Back for more beverages?” Guessed a cheerful voice of Slayer of Gorax’thal the moment John pushed open the heavyset door.
“Nah, we finished our celebrations an hour ago. Now it’s time for a bath and a short rest. Could I ask you to wake me up…” Pulling his pocked watch from the spatial storage, John checked the current time, “…in seventy minutes?”
“Certainly, sir. Anything else?”
Shaking his head in a negative, he headed upstairs and right into the steaming bath.
“Ahhh,” he groaned as the scalding herbal water enveloped his body and filled him with comfortable warmth. Letting himself relax, he fell into a dreamless sleep shortly after.
“Sir, it is time to wake up,” he heard in what felt like a few minutes of rest. “Please, confirm that you heard me and are awake.”
Pulling his stored garments directly on him with a simple flex of will, he stepped out of his room and followed after Slayer of Gorax’thal downstairs.
“I appreciate your help, but I got to run,” he waved him a farewell and rushed out.
He was taking it closer than he promised, but every second in the herbal bath always felt like heaven, so he decided to cut the spare time to a little over three minutes.
Jogging thought the busy center square, he stopped by the entrance to the command bunker and was quickly ushered through by a pair of Aerilian guards.
“There you are! We were trying to find you, but apparently you haven’t arrived to the Inn at all,” Melis’ar turned on him the moment he arrived.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I jumped into my own Inn and asked the innkeeper to wake me up only four minutes before the week’s end.”
Where is everyone else? He wondered, looking around the room.
There were only the royal princes, Dilah’ec, and him present.
It doesn’t seem like they are expecting anyone else to arrive.
They remained mostly silent for the next two minutes until finally the end of the second week arrived.
[Congratulations!
The second week of the Apocalypse is at its end, and it is time to reward those who proved themselves both resourceful and powerful to not only survive, but thrive in their new environment.
Everyone who is an active member of a Shelter receives + 1 Fate.
Furthermore, everyone who is an active member of a Bastion or a Shelter that is undergoing its promotion receives + 2 Fate.
Likewise, everyone who is an active member of a Citadel or a Bastion that is undergoing its promotion receives + 3 Fate.
For the owners of these System-sanctioned areas, the reward is doubled.
Note: For anyone participating in more than one area, only the highest reward will apply]
Before John even finished reading through it, a second screen popped right next to the first one.
[Attention!
Owners of Bastions, or Citadels, it is time for the introductory sitting for the first World Summit.
If you accept the summons, you may select up to two (four) members as your retinue and have everyone teleported to the prepared location.
Do you wish to participate?
Yes/No
Note: Shelters currently undergoing their promotion are classified as Bastions for this event, and Bastions undergoing the same are classified as Citadels]