(((..-- DenWu --..)))
Four orders of business sat on his desk. The first was an analysis from his boys that stated the weather for the next few months could result in highly active seasonal storms. Rain wasn't always a given on Denduram, but it was plentiful when it came.
The second was a nothing report - but also a serious one. The raw crystal mine - his mole warrens - were not the most monetarily lucrative venture on Denduram. They weren't even the most strictly profitable thing he had going on in that mineshaft. But a large stockpile of 'unknown', unprocessed, and unregulated crystal opened doors for many other ventures. The same people that wouldn't look at him or this planet twice pried with honey and wine when they became aware of things. Unregulated crystal had a lot of uses. Unprocessed - and volatile - crystal was even rarer. Because it was dangerous, it was jumped on. And because it was generally in supply only on the younger worlds, you either had young and unregulated things waiting to be taken over by the inhabitants or their sponsoring party, or an old deposit that was too well known to hide.
But the Warrens were different. Over thousands of years, a steady ecosystem had built itself up - balanced between a challenge dungeon and its inhabitants, the earthworms they ate, and those chitinous things in the depths that were drawn to both. The recipe created a perfect environment for a consistent, workable series of mana crystal veins. The entire prison down there was designed around that balance - including the suppression collars. Just enough to make a fight in numbers against a mole winnable. Just enough reward, scaled up, that residents of those depths prone to violence would send themselves to an early grave and leave only good, obedient, timid workers alive. Healing skills were kept out of the mines for specifically so that death would be guaranteed for those foolish enough to go challenge the creatures. The gate itself was ancient, and so were the true residents inside. DenWu's uncle had been part of a delve, once, to confirm the status of the den. Large and plentiful enough to support things for thousands of years more - as long as they reproduced enough to stay advantaged over the bugs.. And the anchor and leader, an aged king, had been on the decline - but still had enough fight to wipe out half of the team sent to survey things.
Today, that same king would probably be dead - or damn close to the end of its natural life. To be replaced by a prince, and the cycle would continue. There were ups and downs, more or less escaped moles - but always enough crystal and enough miners suppressed to G grade to retrieve it. It was a black well, where rivals and enemies and the prisoners of allies were thrown to rot and be forgotten. There was no way up - and down was death. Or should be.
The week's numbers had steadily risen, following multiple moles dead in rapid succession. Someone was killing things, all too quickly - and that had opened up new tunnels and veins for exploit. On one hand, it was good to have more resources to barter. On the other - if a collar malfunctioned and wasn't caught, or if too many crazy prisoners banded together, they might just throw off the balance. Too much, too quickly was a problem. If they delved too deeply, driven by greed - they would only serve to draw the attention of much more dangerous beasts. It was a problem he would normally want to address.
The third item of business were the continued, mundane tasks required in the aftermath of Thad's betrayal. Mostly flower and stone arrangements, and planning which internment rites he was able to attend in each given week. It was good for people to see him there - to know that he put enough value in the lives of his personnel to see them sent off beyond. But it was largely optional.
The final item was of greater concern than all the rest.
His databoys, in their fervor and design, had long ago made early warning style systems to ensure they all knew when someone was looking into DenWu's business, and when unwanted visitors may come calling. It wasn't a perfect system when it came to timeframe, but it was generally correct on the visits themselves. There was a high chance one of those was on their way now. From what he could tell, a highly commended CCE had taken an interest in something to do with his dealings, and would be landing and announcing himself sometime in the future. It could be the day after tomorrow, or two months away - but he was coming.
Whether he was coming to investigate a more reserved arm of DenWu's enterprise, or something that could cause real problems remained to be seen. But the visit had quickly become the issue of greatest priority. Staying out of a cell was achieved through methodical self-control - and patience. He'd survived many visits, and audits, and even a full investigation by his simple ability to do nothing while the heat rose. He wouldn't investigate anything in the tunnels, because it would draw attention there. He wouldn't show up to any illicit deals, nor would he notify them of his absence. Anything that had the slightest chance of getting him linked to troublesome dealings could wait until the visit was concluded.
He burned out the report file, and sent s self-deleting blanket message to do the same. Everything would be sanitized, and the staff would pull from piles of legitimate work to sell the impression that every task and deal going on was completely above-board.
"We have a visitor coming to the offices, potentially as soon as tomorrow or as far out as the month after next. Please ensure your areas are ready to receive guests."
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||+|| Win ||+||
He was interesting, self-assured and righteous, quick to anger for his friends, but less so for himself. He gave her space when she'd been sifting through her memories, and staunchly refused to even consider having her and Lycra in any sort of danger - even though she was far older, and more experienced. She felt remorse, now, for slapping him with the test. A conditional title, for the purposes of hyping up good citizens and giving an early warning if they began to plot or plan against you. But bits of light had begun to push through her old thick walls. Her partial guises had started to fall away, and she was being more of herself with Reid and Lycra both.
She was still reserved - she would always be reserved - but it was hard to remain collected and even-keel with their antics. Reid kept her on her toes with his outlandish nature and feats. Heck, she hadn't even begun to dig into his connection to the Calderwall empire, nor had she tried to figure out if that's who he was running from - she only knew the newer planetary lords by secondhand stories and reputation, but Earth's Pathfinder Progenitor had a reputation of being someone you absolutely did not cross. She expected Reid still had more he hadn't told her, but he was at his core a good man. Lycra was... well he was himself. She could practically still feel the warmth of his hug on her thigh.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Win hadn't retreated back to the last bend for the final battle. She used the butt of the spear Reid made her as a stilt, with one arm bracing her against the wall. It let her see over some of the mounds, and gave her a decent view of the rear shelf. She bore witness to bits of Reid's ferocious, rough style of combat. His tendency to overcommit and let his momentum carry him when it didn't need to. His obtusely straightforward set of strikes, jumps, and moves. His undeniable resiliency, and his propensity to falter or fall to the ground whenever he suffered a minor interruption to his footing. His incredible power, and his inability for precision. She felt like she was watching a champion with the coordination of a child.
But a champion was still a champion. He'd shown incredible force, and tanked the final bites from the last prince like he was built for it. The end came quickly after that.
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You have defeated Ancient Deep Mole King - lvl 26. (+20-F xp)
Quest Complete! Calculating final performance.
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For the second time in recent hours - and what was also the second time in years - Win found herself with her mouth hanging agape. It was unbecoming - but understandable.
Every mole until now had been G grade. She had her suspicions during the magic attacks that rained boulder sized rocks, but it was true. No matter how lethargic or old the thing may have seemed, an F grade beast was still an F grade. They were more durable and powerful than G grade beasts by an order of magnitude - that was just the way of things. A strong individual in G grade might be able to kill a strong G grade beast with a single strike to the head - but they'd struggle to do damage to something in F grade. When Win saw the mole king muster its last bit of pride to offer its resignation, she expected Reid to fail to damage it. Or struggle.
He'd killed it in two blows.
The raw power required for something like that was... it just didn't make sense for someone still in G grade. And it was more power than he'd shown during much of the fighting he'd done with the smaller beasts. No matter how many secrets he shared, Reid continued to surprise her. He was still weak, in a larger scale. He might be for a while... but if he ever got free of this place...
Her mind worked on plans and machinations she hadn't entertained since her earliest years in the Warrens. Maybe he could get free of this impossible place. Then Reid could be a secret weapon, or a dominant force. He could shift balances of power just by being in a room - so long as he made it to the middle grades. And just how strong would he be then?
Win's brain turned to math. If Reid was still G grade - it meant he'd just gotten a massive amount of experience.
The qualitative difference between G grade and F grade energies was, of course, the same as any other. It worked out to One F Grade Experience Point being worth Ten Million G grade XP.
( 1-F xp = 10,000,000-G xp )
So for the mole king, 20 F grade XP was equivalent to... Two-Hundred-Million G grade XP. Her time advancing through grades had come to a halt with the suppression collar long, long ago - but the feeling of joy and excitement when you earned points from a kill was a memory that never left her mind. Every scrap and piece of energy built like a tower made of your achievements, and it slowly grew. With major emphasis on slowly. No one received that many points all at once - maybe heroes in stories, but it just wasn't a thing that happened. Two hundred million was enough to bring a person from level 1 straight to level 23. It was simply massive.
Judging by Lycra's reaction, at least one massive level jump had taken place. His eyes were alight with excitement and he danced back and forth across the tunnel. "Yah yah! Yah yah! Yah yah!"
She let him continue for a few more seconds before her protective instincts took over.
"Lycra!" The small, happy Gzlonbhalin stopped his dance and turned to her. "Congratulations on your levels. We will celebrate - but first, please do not touch your stat points for now." Those questioning yellow eyes were too damn endearing. Win could practically still feel his deep scarring and old broken bones that she'd repaired. How had anyone ever deigned to so badly mistreat this tiny spark of light? "I know the excitement you feel - but we should talk through what you want out of your stats and skills. The choices you make in G grade set the foundation for everything else, and so we must choose thoughtfully. I will help you figure things out. But let us make choices on where to invest with the future in mind."
His head bobbed eagerly at her words.
"Now, come, we should hurry and tell Reid the same so he doesn't cause himself trouble. He will have fewer points to distribute than you, but I should share my knowledge with you both." She gestured for Lycra to climb on her back. He paused, and stared the way he did when deciding whether or not to share information. So, there's another secret there. Win mused. If he wasn't ready to share it, he didn't need to.
"Come on - no matter what, we should go check on Reid."
Lycra nodded, and jumped up.
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^+ Nyx +^
The new energy influx was absolutely massive - and a second wave was coming. It would be enough to send Reid straight into F grade - well before he was ready. She worked furiously to stop that from happening. Stalling the system's calculations was not an easy thing to do. She'd flooded it with new data, or repackaged data, as requests to include in the calculations for the quest rewards. It was a haphazard attempt to slow things down - and it was beginning to reject her attempts at submitting new data.
Reid was about to make the greatest possible mistake of his life. If he solidified himself now, going from G to F, he would create peaks and valleys in his potential for future power. His weak stats were so laughably low. Nyx understood why - the man had never even gone through the tutorial's educational stage. He was a babe in the woods - except for his ability to sluggishly smash through his enemies.
Nyx threw more of herself into the task - the real task - of circumventing the normal energy applications for this reward and sending them instead into herself. If she got this right, she could both save Reid a massive mistake, and reconstitute herself properly.
Since the revival, she'd been stuck as a semi-formed thing. Not enough of herself to be able to truly 'live' and interact with Reid - but not so far gone that she was willing to give up and slip away. She'd hung on, waiting and hoping for Reid to grow in power that she could minutely siphon away to save herself. She didn't need to wait long - and now she was rushed. The first wave of energy was enough for her to become Nyx again, and interact with Reid's soulscape properly - what little he had formed so far. It also gave her back enough full awareness to realize that her reconstitution would be conditional.
She would be restricted down to Reid's level of power and understanding. Restricted until his power grew to match what hers had once been. Limited in her interactions with him, and with the universe at large. Capped in her ability to share knowledge and understanding. Reduced and suppressed in so many ways. But even contained, Nyx was the salvation Reid and his growing pack of comrades didn't know they needed.
Intricate shapes and strands sorted themselves within Reid's ethereal self. They wound into another masterwork, and set forth her unassailable place. Her future home. Her life.
She hadn't finished her final review when the new deluge of energy flowed in.
But the masterwork held, and flashed with golden yellow light.