A massive pillar of flame rose up into the sky, with the minotaur as its epicenter. There was a wave of heat and light, and Edgar took a few steps back. The disconcerting scent of cooking beef drifted across the air, mixed with burnt hair. Edgar continued to feed the fire, stoking it with various atmospheric gasses until it was burning brighter than the sun. Eventually, the Minotaur succumbed, and essence poured into Edgar. He gained two levels for his efforts, flooding his body with strength.
With that out of the way, he led the others further into the fort, ready to conquer the keep for his own. Slothari was still far beyond him, but he was growing closer and closer to a level where he could make a difference. With the main defender of the keep down, the rest was nothing but child’s play.
In the Ash Heaps
Eliza tucked in her hood, trying to keep the pervasive ash out of her nose and mouth. Compared to the fertile plains of Telvaria, this truly was hell. However, she did not let that deter here. She was here because a goddess had deemed her worthy of a grand quest. Going by what she had learned about her quarry, had she not seemed useful to the gods, she would have been slain as soon as she entered Telvaria, sent here with no hope of escape.
As it was, she had made herself a bit of a home in the Ash Heaps, joining the local army. The realm was under the control of a council of powerful Tier 2s, but that was only compared to the rest of the realm. All of the most powerful fighters from his realm had already ascended to Mire, the next circle. Her quarry, Jonathan Harlowe, was already there.
The rest of her unit marched beside her, and she found herself fighting to move slowly enough to mask her true strength. Integrating herself into the organization of the realm was easy enough, as most assumed that any newcomers would naturally be hateful of the gods. It was an assumption that suited her well. With the promise of far greater power down the road though, she was Malaraxia’s servant until she got what she wanted. All she knew was that she had no particular loyalty for anyone, save for herself. It was a mindset that had gotten her through a hard life on Earth, and one that would get her through the same here.
She had learned much about her target, whom the inhabitants of this circle venerated like a mixture between a hero and a demigod. Even with his departure, his presence lived on. Eliza had to admit a sort of grudging respect for Jonathan Harlowe. Despite the inflation of his tale by his followers, he had still achieved the impossible, and with far fewer opportunities in Telvaria than most.
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Her level had risen rapidly in the time, what with all of her new bonuses and boons from Malaraxia. Her Divinity was coming in handy, and she had found a few uses for it. It felt weak, almost watered down in a way, but it was still a power that nobody else had.
She sat at the mid ranks of Tier 2, and was coming closer and closer to reaching the level of power necessary to ascend. The only problem was that to ascend, she would need to prove her trustworthiness to the rulers of the Ash Heaps, as the portal was controlled solely by Jonathan. It was an annoying state of affairs, but hardly impossible. From what she could tell, her target needed all the help he could get in Mire. He would likely welcome another Tier 3. That would spell his end.
In Tartarus
Over the next month, the plans of Jonathan and Edgar began to come to fruition. Jonathan aided his Uthraki allies in Tartarus, working to eliminate the mimic scourge. Normally, he would have been fighting against the hegemon of the realm, but with his unique circumstances, he was forced to make alliances with beings that were not entirely aligned with his goals. Lord Arkanon was hardly evil, but he was a tyrant, and one not afraid of using his power to dominate others. The only way to deal with that was gaining power in turn.
Jonathan had reached the lofty heights of level 275 by the time Arkanon had deemed the outer reaches of his dominion more or less secure from the mimics. They spawned regularly, but there were only so many that could exist at one time. Although the realm was vast, there was little of the elemental energy that the monsters were largely composed of.
His own skills had risen in that time, with his Blunt Weapon Mastery rising by two mastery points. However, it was incredibly difficult to raise the Expert Rank skill, and he could tell that it would be at least a year until he reached Master Rank, if not longer. His other Pathway skills hovered on the edge of Expert Rank, with Energy Manipulation at Journeyman 9, and Runecrafting Expertise at Journeyman 8. Flowing Maelstrom was waiting for a final push to reach Expert Rank as well.
The latter skill had been harder to raise, mostly because he had been too busy to devote much time to experimentation with his runes. Most of that mastery had come from using them in battle, and finding more effective ways to do so. Still, he would need to create a new array, or at least find a new rune, to rank up.