“That was… anticlimactic,” John mumbled, looking at the Sector Overlord’s remains.

He wasn’t expecting a difficult fight, but the ease with which they tore the encounter apart was beyond his expectations.

“And see, the enrage is most likely linked to the Lost Souls as I’ve guessed. Since we didn’t purify all of them, we avoided the nether beam,” Dilah’ec stated with a cheerful smile while brushing dirt from her robe.

About the robes, it was almost hilarious how quickly John got used to his new garment. The fabric had the softness of a luxurious bathrobe and the tensile strength of a cured tough hide, providing enough protection against most E-grade enemies and their slashing weapons. Coupled with its self-repairing and self-cleaning enchantments turned it into a one-fits-all set of clothes.

And that’s not taking into consideration the spatial storage.

“Got the promotion card?” Galan’il asked, joining them near the entrance to the System-made arena in the deepest part of the underground cistern.

“Let me see…” John muttered, opening his deck and listing through the topmost portion of his discard pile. “...Yep, got it right here, and… huh, that seems actually cool.”

Pulling out a new Rare card with a picture of a seemingly empty jungle, yet showing a soft orange outline of a lean predator creeping in through underbrush, John offered it to Galan’il as part of his spoils.

[Emberglare Noctrowl’s sense (R)

Can be linked with the main-body card to grant dark vision, heat sense, and light air current sense]

“That is a decent find,” Galan’il nodded. “I am almost tempted to take for it myself. However, after years of training with a different sense-enhancing card, It’s not worth the trouble for me. Take it if you want, but you are skipping the next turn.”

Let’s see…

[Nightstalker’s awareness

Can be linked with the main-body card to grant dark vision and keener reactions to any unexpected movements in your field of view]

Comparing the descriptions of both cards, he came to an easy decision.

“If Dilah’ec agrees, I’d like to take it myself.”

“Sure, take it. I can’t afford to change mine and using more than one sense-enhancing card is not viable for me.”

Swapping the cards caused a bout of vertigo, forcing him to lean on the nearest wall and close his eyes. Luckily, it passed after a short rest and when he opened his eyes, he marveled at his enhanced vision.

Both Galan’il and Dilah’ec had a soft orange glow centered around their chests and from their mouths was coming an extremely light haze that splintered and spread into the surrounding environment.

I don’t think I’d be able to notice that without my high Perception, he noted, focusing on the only visible air currents in the damp undergrown water cistern.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said after steadying his feet. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get out of this slimy muck,” he finished, wiggling his toes and feeling the nasty substance squelching between them.

Backtracking through the ancient aqueduct and the short sewer took two minutes and as they approached the hidden maintenance door, Dilah’ec leaned closer and softly spoke out, “John, I am not used to negotiating with your people, but something about our guide felt off.”

“Oh? I haven’t noticed anything,” John whispered back. “What was tipping you off?”

“I can’t put my finger on it, but after years of living in the courts, I learned to trust my intuition,” she tried to explain. “I was apprehensive about saying something earlier because I didn’t want to jeopardize our talks without any proof, but… If we are planning to work together long-term, I shouldn’t be worried about letting each other know when we have doubts.”

“Mhm, let’s remain cautious then,” John nodded. “Also, I trust both of you so whenever something feels off, don’t worry about speaking out.”

“I didn’t notice anything either, but I learned the hard way to trust Dilah’ec in most social interactions,” Galan’il gravely added, making her blink and then emit a very unladylike string of snorts.

“You alright?” John asked, watching her shake with laughter and Galan’il’s face turn red.

“S-sorry,” she grinned, catching a breath. “It’s just…”

“We are wasting time, let’s get moving,” Galan’il interrupted and marched ahead to the rusty iron door before them.

That’s a story I’d like to hear one day, John smiled and followed after him.

Taking the lead, Galan’il leaned into the heavy door and pushed it open with a loud squeal of dry hinges.

“Do you see him?”

“There,” Galan’il pointed toward an unassuming man reading a small notepad.

Wasn’t he wearing a gray mantle?

Noticing their arrival, the man briefly scowled before schooling his features. Pulling his mantle from behind his back, he covered his head and walked in their direction with resolute steps.

“Weren’t you supposed to be killing the monsters in the cistern?” He asked with a heated voice. “The boss is counting on…”

“It’s done. We cleared the entire cistern and got the card,” John interrupted. “Lead us back to the Shelter.”

“Wha… No. I don’t believe you. There is no way you cleared the entire thing in twenty-five minutes.” He accused them and slowly backed away. “You are…”

Once again, he got interrupted by John summoning the card into his hand and showing its description to the guide.

“How? You didn’t have enough time to… Let me make sure it’s real,” he snapped his left hand forward like a snake, attempting to snatch it from John’s hand.

“Woah, that is not what we agreed upon,” John reacted in time, sending it into the safety of his deck. “Try something like that again, and I’ll consider our agreement void.”

“I need to make sure the card is real,” he insisted.

“I don’t care,” John refused and turned to his companions. “Let’s get moving.”

Leaving their guide behind them, they began jogging in the direction of Michael’s Shelter.

“You were right, something feels off about all this.” John had to agree. That encounter felt more than a misunderstanding born out of confusion.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Moving through the streets at a brisk pace, they ignored the few people trying to question them and soon arrived near the heart of the industrial part of the town.

“It seems like Michael betrayed us, or was betrayed and attacked by the other Shelters,” Galan’il noted as they watched the unusual activity before them.

People with distinct identifying markings of the north and south Shelters were traveling down the main streets toward Michael’s Shelter. Luckily for them, it seemed that the western Shelter didn’t muster their survivors, so the streets cutting through the center of the town were still abandoned.

“Do you want to continue with your approach or do we fall back and prepare for… other alternatives,” Galan’il asked. “Your call.”

Will we be forced into a conflict with the first town we visited? John sighed, thinking about the decision.

“Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps it is all just a misunderstanding and they are only preparing for the inevitable Shelter advancement,” he declared after a minute of thought. “However, we will remain cautious and insist on negotiating in front of his Shelter, and in any sign of betrayal we pull back. Do you agree?”

Seeing two resolute nods, they stepped out of the alleyway and moved toward the Shelter’s side entrance and its pair of guards.

Hmm, they are wearing Michael’s insignia, so maybe…

“Are you the team sent to clear the water cistern?” A taller of the two with a jagged scar climbing from the lip to the top of his head asked, leaning down on top of the gate’s railing.

“Yes, please let Michael know that we are waiting for him here.”

Frowning, the man turned to his pudgier friend with a clear what should I do face.

“Michael is currently in a meeting, so he can’t come,” the other guard confidently answered. “He told us to escort you in.”

The taller one was nodding his head and smiling like a dumbass as his partner worked the control gem embedded on top of the gate.

Giving themselves a glance, John, and his companions began backing away, preparing for sudden hostile actions.

“That is not happening,” John shouted, letting his voice carry over the walls and to all the people inside. “We are leaving in five minutes if Michael doesn’t show up.”

“Wait, you can’t…”

“He will be there in a minute,” announced an older womanly voice from behind the wall.

As they waited, the two guards exchanged places with half a dozen survivors wearing a yellow armband over their right biceps and five with green ribbons clipped to the front and back of their leather vests.

Michael appeared a minute later with an older woman wearing a simple dress and a younger guy in a full set of black plate armor and an oversized gray sword slung over his shoulder.

Yep, Michael got fucked over.

The man looked in perfect health, but instead of his ramrod-straight back and confidant stare, the man was slouched over and looking at the ground.

“I must apologize, but as you can see,” he began, giving the older woman a look, “the situation has changed and our deal has to change with it.”

Aaaand I am out.

“We are also sorry, but we have underestimated the difficulty of the monsters, and we’re forced to retreat,” John tried to bluff.

Unfortunately, it may have worked on Michael and the young man in armor whose eyes widened in uncertainty, but the older woman only squinted her eyes and tisked in annoyance.

“Why lie? Your explanation doesn’t make sense,” she shook her head, looking like a grandmother whose grandchild decided not to attend college. “The arena with the last monster always closes behind its challenges, and since you were powerful enough to get into our town… you either killed it or turned away. You don’t seem like the ones who would turn away.”

“Give up the card, and we’ll let you go… otherwise…” the younger man shouted after realizing that he was tricked, making the older woman sigh.

“Dimwit,” she softly mumbled.

“Trying to threaten us is futile. Either take a shot and see what happens, or let us leave in peace,” John declared as they continued backing away.

The man attempted a couple of different threats, but it quickly became obvious that it was all a false bravado.

Picking the second-closest street leading around the Shelter, they planned to go further east and out of the town. However, as they jogged down the main street, the other end was cut off by three dozen survivors with blue armbands on both hands.

“That must be the fourth Shelter,” John noted.

“Do we try going around?” Dilah’ec glanced over her shoulder, but far in the distance were the people from the other two Shelters, keeping careful watch over their retreating forms.

“No. It won’t end well for us if we show weakness,” John frowned, looking at the group before them as they arrayed into a clear battle formation. “We will have to go through them. I doubt they have a D-grade Focus, so we should have a significant range advantage with our abilities. If you have some ideas…”

“Are you sure about this?” Dilah’ec surprised him with her determined stare.

“I… am.”

“Then follow me.”

Turning their jog into a run, they passed half of the street in just a few seconds, only stopping when she gave a signal and knelt on the hard asphalt.

“This is close enough,” she declared and closed her eyes, facing the slowly advancing survivors.

“What is she…”

A sudden gut feeling of danger made him take a step back from her, and a moment later an ethereal silhouette of massive tailoring scissors manifested a dozen feet in front of the thirty-some group. The scissors opened wide, nearly touching the houses on both sides of the street, and then snapped shut, sending a pulse of yellow light through the arrayed group.

“My part is done,” Dilah’ec pulled herself up, looking drained. “The rest is up to you.”

“What did she do?” John asked, looking between her and Galan’il’s worried face.

“I temporarily crippled their Fate. You have fifteen minutes before it expires.”

“Come,” Galan’il pointed. “We have to do our part.”

The people were shrugging off their worry from the unknown ability with no apparent effects and were preparing for an easy fight.

Sending his minions to engage the center of their formation, John watched as one of the taller women lifted her hand and conjured a milky-white barrier above her head, only for a shorter guy behind her to unleash a ball of fire at the same time.

The ability impacted the barrier and exploded in the middle of their formation. The force also shattered the protection above their heads, letting his Wraith pour superheated sand on their heads.

A pair of robed survivors attempted to douse the flames with conjured streams of water, but unfortunately, a stocky lady who just caught a gust of glassed sand into her eyes flinched and discharged a jagged bolt of lightning into one of the streams.

The situation devolved further, as the more desperate the survivors became, the worse their accidents got. When John rushed into the collapsing formation with Galan’il at his side, the rest of the fight was a one-sided slaughter.

“Damn, what even was that?” John sighed, looking at the mutilated remains.

By his estimate, they only killed less than a fourth of them, with the rest dying to an unbelievable string of mishaps, accidents, and unfortunate circumstances.

“That is the power of a Legendary card. The only reason why it took so much from her was because of its sealed rarity. The rest is not my place to explain,” Galan’il answered, cleaning his bloodied glaive with a dirty rag.

“Let’s get moving,” Dilah’ec motioned for them to go.

“And here’s our guide,” Galan’il kicked the bloodied corpse of the unremarkable young man. “Guess he was a spy for the other Shelter.”

“But what about the Bastion? I can’t bring that card out of the Sector, or can I?” John asked, wondering about Dilah’ec’s plan.

“You can’t, but I’ll show you an exploit for how to take over an undeveloped Sector without the need for conquest.”

The rest of their trek to the town’s outskirts was uninterrupted and another half hour later, they were stepping out of the dense cluster of undead.

[Warning!

The card Promote Shelter can not be taken outside its Sector.

Return with the card, or it will be given to one of the current Shelters’ owners at random.

Time remaining 05:00]

“Ehh, Dilah’ec? I just got a System warning.”

Smiling, she nodded and turned sharply left.

“Let’s get over there first,” she pointed to a slightly elevated place a couple of hundred paces along the edge of the Sector. “Make sure to keep the countdown above half as we follow the border.”

A couple of minutes later, they stood at the very edge of a small plateau.

“This,” she pulled a blue card from her deck, “is how invading parties tend to take over overpopulated cities that failed to conquer the Overlord on their own.”

The card crumpled into silver motes, and the ground before her was enveloped in a thick beam of white light.

[Welcome to the Weaver’s Nest]