By the time Owin walked up the stairs to the lobby, his hair was charred and pushed back from the blasts. Soot covered his face, leaving a line when he moved his goggles. They had worked through the day and into the night. When Miya finally fell asleep at a table, Owin helped her up the stairs and into her room. She fell onto her bed, smeared soot on her pillow, and started snoring.

Owin stood beside her for a moment, contemplating grabbing a clean pillow, then spotted all the other soot covered things in her room. It was simply the way Miya was. He closed the door and went to Artivan’s room.

He sat on the bed, holding the Thunderstrike Maul. The dull metal barely reflected the electric light that hung from the ceiling. Owin stared blankly into the flat metal, imagining what Artivan might be doing.

The Doomed Harbinger.

The Sovereign One.

When the lich had appeared, it had told him a Cursed had risen. When the Malignant Spirit had formed from its statue, it had mentioned a Lord of the Abyss. That meant whatever the Sovereign One was, it was something called a Cursed.

Was the Sovereign One and the Doomed Harbinger the same thing? Why were there two titles?

He tried to focus, to remember Artivan’s face as clearly as possible. What would it look like as a lich? Would it be desiccated or wrinkled? Could he still smile? What about his beard?

Owin gently set the hammer back on the floor and used it as a footrest. His mind continued imagining different versions of Artivan as the Sovereign One. Maybe he looked younger. Maybe he looked more like the wight that had nearly killed them both.

“A legend long forgotten, twisted by time. A king anointed by the gods, corrupted by the Abyss, and cast into the world to act as a warning— A curse that would never end. Whoever wears the halo becomes the Doomed Harbinger, destined to become a lich who will haunt and kill for the rest of eternity.”

Owin quietly spoke the words over and over, trying to sort out what it meant. It said that whoever wears the halo becomes the Doomed Harbinger, but the boss had been called the Sovereign One. It was the same title Katalin had said Siora used, which meant Artivan was also the Sovereign One and not the Doomed Harbinger.

Owin scowled. He didn’t get it.

He sat on the bed, working through the story until the sun finally shone through his window. He was no less confused, but he was ready to let his mind be occupied by other things. Letting himself get lost in the story wasn’t going to help him anymore.

Footsteps creaked on the wooden floor, signaling that at least one other person was awake. Owin hopped out of the bed, grabbed his bag, and slid the wands and lich bone knife into his belt. He took one more look at the Thunderstrike Maul before leaving the room.

As soon as Owin started down the stairs, he heard a loud gasp. Potilia ran around with a huge smile on her face.

“Owin!” She rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “You got a gift!”

“From who?”

She dragged him off the last stairs and brought him to a massive box sitting beside the counter. “There’s a card!”

More footsteps creaked on the floor above.

“Po, what has you so excited?” Chorsay asked. He leaned over the railing. “Oh, yes. I heard that was coming.” He came down the stairs and leaned on the wall. Chorsay was only wearing loose trousers, having just awoken.

Owin simply stared at the giant man for a moment, surprised by just how massive his muscles were. Chorsay’s torso was spotted with scars, some looking like they should have ended his life. A dark dent of a scar covered his heart.

Owin grabbed the card and flipped it open.

It was the best we could do. Althowin has us busy at work. Hope it helps.

- Ernie

I wanted to be more helpful, but we both know this isn’t my specialty. I did as many chores as possible so Ernie could make all these potions. He stayed up working nonstop. Chorsay sent us a message about you leaving soon. We will try to make some more while you’re gone so you can have extra when you get back. Good luck in the Ocean. We know you’re going to do amazing. Say hi to Baby Head and Graliel for us.

- Katalin

Owin smiled and opened the box. It was full of bottles.

“Wow,” Chorsay said quietly.

“I’ve never seen so many potions,” Potilia said.

“They’re not all buffs.” Owin picked up a percussion grenade. “Ernie made me some grenades too.”

Chorsay gently patted Owin’s shoulder. “Take your time drinking them. Don’t make yourself sick. We’ll gather the Hogs for a final farewell before the three of you head out.”

Owin nodded.

Chorsay yawned. “Wake me in another hour, Po.”

She nodded and hopped back onto her stool.

Chorsay walked back up the stairs, yawning again, before he disappeared around the corner to the quarters. Potilia opened her book, but kept her eyes on Owin.

“Will those actually make you stronger?”

“A lot stronger.” There were buffs for all attributes, but specifically many rose pink and purple. There was also a whole cluster of orange. He couldn’t even imagine how strong he would be after. “I’ll need to practice after drinking these.”

“Hm,” Vondaire said.

Potilia squawked and fell from the stool as they both noticed the umbra standing nearby. She thumped to the floor, which made Vondaire actually lean to the side.

“Are you unharmed?”

“Relatively.” She climbed back up, scowling. “You can’t sneak up like that.”

“I would say I cannot help it, but alas, I can. I’m not a basic assassin, after all. Those boring classes with their passive abilities.”

“I don’t understand,” Owin said.

“You wouldn’t, would you? Is this from Althowin’s alchemists?”

“Yes.”

“Kind of them.” Vondaire wore his black suit and adjusted his jacket sleeves. “I will spar with you in the little arena after you are done leveling up, as it could be called for someone in your circumstance.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” Owin said. That wasn’t true, and Vondaire clearly sensed the sarcasm. Owin didn’t have anything specifically against the umbra, but he was suspicious and so odd.

“No need to concern yourself over something like that. I would be surprised if you could even land a strike.”

Owin glared.

“Perhaps we can treat it as a challenge.” He turned to Potilia. “Is food prepared or do I need to request something?”

“Make your own damn food,” she said.

“Hm. Fine.” He stepped over the box of potions and walked right into the mess without another word.

“What an ass,” Potilia said.

“He can definitely still hear you,” Owin said.

“Oh. You’re an ass,” she said toward the mess door.

“Acknowledged,” Vondaire said.

Owin pulled the potions from the box and separated them by attribute, making little collections right in the middle of the floor. Potilia left the counter and sat beside Owin, grabbing potions to help organize by color.

“Are these all the same?”

Owin had been using Examine as he grabbed each one. Most were artisan quality, though a few were journeyman and two were master. He didn’t actually know what caused the quality difference in buff potions. Was it the ingredients used or the steps taken? Miya could only make apprentice quality, and even those had taken her a ton of effort. Ernie was the apprentice of the world’s greatest alchemist, so he wasn’t surprised that he would manage to create high quality buffs.

“Mostly. It’s a little overwhelming,” Owin said.

Potilia held up an orange strength potion. “If I could drink this and become stronger, I would probably be a hero.”

“Aren’t you already strong?”

She shrugged. “I should be deficient. Intelligence is my highest by a lot.”

“From reading?”

She nodded as she swirled the orange strength buff. “Chorsay provides me with any book I want to read. Even if he doesn’t have it, he somehow finds it.”

“What do you read?”

Her eyes darted to the counter, then back to the potion. “Things.” She noticed Owin still staring at her. “It’s embarrassing,” she said quickly.

“Okay.” Owin carefully pulled the cork from a wisdom buff. He had three of them, though he wasn’t confident it would make all that much of a difference. These were artisan and journeyman. Apparently Ernie also wasn’t worried about his wisdom. At least, not as much as Katalin had been.

Before drinking any buffs, he pulled the Band of Dexterity off so he could see his attributes properly. He opened his index and took one more look at his attributes before drinking all the potions.

Level: 1

Strength: 216

Constitution: 140

Dexterity: 60

Intelligence: 155

Wisdom: 34

Charisma: 60

“Is it safe?” Potilia asked.

“It should be. If Ernie wanted to kill me, he . . . he could’ve done it easily in the Ocean.” Owin imagined the pain that flooded through his body after consuming Baby Head’s blood, or the fear in his mind as he fell over the side of the ferry and splashed in the freezing ocean water. If Ernie wanted to kill Owin, he could’ve just left him either of those times.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

There wasn’t a single ounce of Owin that was concerned about the buffs. He trusted Ernie and Katalin more than he trusted anyone else alive.

Wisdom +80

He had to wait a moment after drinking all the wisdom buffs. His head felt fuzzy and the potions tasted like grass smelled. It left a waxy coating on his tongue that he wanted to scrape off. Potilia watched him with concern. Owin placed the bottles back into the box when he finished. That way, he could send the whole box back to Ernie to reuse the bottles. It made Owin smile when he thought about all the potion bottles he chucked to the side or the ones he had broken on his face back in the Great Forest. He had been wasteful, but he had hardly known better.

Charisma was next. Owin remembered the golden potions tasting sweet. There were fewer of these as well, but still plenty to get him over 100. Owin removed the corks of all three potions and stared at the golden liquid.

“What are you waiting for?” Potilia asked.

Vondaire stepped out of the mess with a bowl of something that had steam trailing off the top. He ate a spoonful and leaned on the wall, watching.

“I have spent a lot of time thinking about getting stronger, but I had no way to do it. Ernie and Katalin helped me learn a lot and they helped me get a few small buffs during our adventure, but I felt like I was moving so slowly. Now . . .” He picked up the first charisma buff. “I’m moving faster than ever before.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Vondaire said. “Finish your potions, and I will help evaluate your standing. As you are now, you will not make it through the Ocean.”

Owin glared. “You still hide your attributes.”

Vondaire smiled. “If you impress me during our sparring session, I will reveal everything. Now, drink up.”

“I don’t like you,” Potilia said.

“Why are you here?” Vondaire asked. He took another bite and raised an eyebrow. “You’re no hero.”

“Receptionist. Assistant to Chorsay. Why are you here? You’re an ass.”

“As you’ve already stated. I am here to bring fame to the Nimble Hogs as the most prolific Shard Hero.” Vondaire smiled. His black eyes looked over the potions.

Charisma +90

The honey-like charisma buffs were much easier to drink. Owin downed them quickly, corked each one, and placed them back into the box. He figured it would be best to save strength for last so he didn’t accidentally break anything.

There were only two intelligence potions, which Owin thought was a little odd. While he couldn’t learn more spells, his mana was still important so he could caste the few he had. Still, two artisan buffs added a good chunk to his mana bar.

Intelligence +60

Ernie had really spent his time on the last three types. There were more potions, plus there were the two master level buffs.

He had fifteen potions left. There were five of each strength, constitution, and dexterity. Both strength and dexterity had master quality buffs, which added 50 attribute points. Owin set them up in order to take them as dexterity, constitution, then finally strength.

Dexterity +170

Constitution +150

Strength +170

Owin finished the last strength buff and carefully handled the bottle. He could hardly believe what had happened. His constitution more than doubled from drinking the potions. Instead of the health bar growing even longer, it appeared to become more dense, like any damage suffered would move less of it at a time.

Owin opened his index and stared in disbelief.

Level: 1

Strength: 386

Constitution: 290

Dexterity: 230

Intelligence: 215

Wisdom: 114

Charisma: 150

He slipped the Band of Dexterity back on, pushing his dexterity to 235. Now, that five point difference seemed somewhat insignificant.

“Impressive,” Vondaire said. “In a matter of moments, you have jumped from roughly a level 30 to nearly equal to level 60. If only others could become so strong without any effort.”

“I earned it,” Owin said.

“You drank your way through thirty levels.”

Vondaire dropped his spoon into the bowl. “Come on.” He stepped into the mess and vanished.

“Are you actually going to spar with him?” Potilia asked.

“I want to know how strong he is, and I need to test myself.” Owin put the lid back onto the box and slid it behind the counter, out of Potilia’s way. “Can you help me write a note later before we send this back?”

“Sure. Why do you need my help?”

“I still don’t know how to read.”

Potilia snorted, then covered her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

Owin shrugged. “I’ll learn eventually.” He checked his wands and the lich bone knife. He could go grab the Thunderstrike Maul, but he would be fighting without it all through the Ocean Dungeon, so it felt more reasonable to practice without it.

“Be careful. I don’t trust him,” Potilia said.

“I don’t either.” Owin walked through the mess and out into the courtyard. Vondaire already stood outside near the back wall. He ran his hand along the metal sheet.

“I have to admit, this is more impressive than I would have assumed at a first glance. It is not simply a makeshift arena, but a durable barrier that can withstand even a Shard Hero’s power.”

“You don’t seem worried about me beating you,” Owin said.

“Ah.” Vondaire turned and adjusted the collar of his jacket. “I am not even worried about you dirtying my suit, dear goblin.”

“Are you going to go through the Ocean wearing that?”

“Unfortunately, no. I will wear attire more fitting for the situation. Not like your unflattering chitin, of course.”

“Unflattering?” He looked down at his chitin breastplate. “What’s wrong with it?”

Vondaire positioned himself across from Owin with a mocking smirk on his face. “Shall we begin?”

“You insult me then just skip it?”

“Then I shall begin.” Vondaire disappeared.

Was it an ability or a spell? If a spell, what Power?

The very tip of a ghostly blade appeared in the corner of Owin’s eye. He leaned back so fast that he launched himself onto his back. With almost no effort, he rolled backward and landed on his feet. The whole exaggerated dodge took a blink of an eye. With his Goblin Cunning racial feat and his enhanced dexterity, he moved even faster than he had expected.

Vondaire stood where Owin had just been, holding an odd looking knife. The blade was a diamond shape and it looked almost like the gray mist attack from the liches Owin had faced.

“What is that?”

“Ghostblade. A basic umbra spell.” He relaxed his hand, causing the knife to disappear. “I wanted to ensure you could fight before I used anything more complicated.”

“Like what?”

Vondaire pointed. A beam of magic the same color appeared, immediately piercing through Owin’s heart.

He staggered back, looking at his chest as the beam vanished. There was no damage to his armor or his health . . . but his mana was partially grayed out. “Apparition damage?”

“Very good.”

“I couldn’t dodge that.”

“Perhaps someday, if you survive. Now—” Vondaire vanished and reappeared directly beside Owin. “Are we going to fight?”

Owin stabbed with the lich bone knife and passed through nothing as Vondaire was already on Owin’s opposite side.

“Still too slow.”

“I thought we were sparring.”

Vondaire formed another ghostblade in his hand. “This is what it means to fight an umbra. Let me humor you. I will not dodge or teleport. Try to strike me.” He stood with his feet together and one arm behind his back, only wielding the ghostblade in his right hand.

Owin dashed and leapt. He aimed to drive the knife right into Vondaire’s chest, but the ghostblade swung up and perfectly blocked. The ghostblade bent in just slightly before Owin dropped to the ground.

He slashed at Vondaire’s shins, but the ghostblade once again appeared to block at the perfect moment. No matter how fast Owin was moving, Vondaire moved faster.

It went on for ten minutes as Owin dashed, stabbed, leapt, and attacked in every possible way he could manage. While there were a few brief moments of pushing Vondaire back or directing the ghostblade to the side, Vondaire was simply too fast and agile to not block every attack thrown his way.

Even when Owin tried to use Smoke Cloud, Vondaire became impossible to locate. It was an easy lesson for Owin. Don’t use anything to obscure the view when fighting an umbra.

Vondaire suddenly teleported as Owin jumped, causing Owin to crash and bounce off the ground.

“I thought you said you weren’t teleporting!”

“Well, this is the end of our sparring.” Vondaire adjusted his sleeves. “You failed to strike me.”

“I’m not done yet.”

“We are.” He pointed to Owin’s hand. “That knife. What is it?”

“A lich bone.”

“Ah. I hadn’t accounted for that.”

“Does this mean I win? Are you quitting?”

Vondaire looked back at the Nimble Hogs’ headquarters, avoiding looking at Owin. “I suppose in a manner, it does. Your knife has drained me of mana. Each clash dispersed my ghostblade.”

“I never saw it disappear when we were fighting.”

“I can form them that quickly.”

“Undead is strong against apparition?”

Vondaire raised an eyebrow. “Certainly you knew this.”

“I do now.”

Vondaire sighed. “I have dropped the veil. Look at my attributes so we never need to speak of it again.”

Hero

Vondaire Faikel

Umbra

Nimble Hog Hero Company

Level: 87

Strength: 382

Constitution: 374

Dexterity: 586

Intelligence: 303

Wisdom: 582

Charisma: 301

“You don’t even have a shard and you’re that high of a level?”

Vondaire put a finger to his mouth. “We will not speak of it. You and Chorsay are the only ones that I will allow to possess this knowledge.”

“Are you stronger than Taralim?”

“After I acquire the first shard, I believe I will be. Until then, no.”

Chorsay opened the door from the mess and leaned on the doorframe. “I see you two are bonding.”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” Owin said. “I need to visit a mender before I leave now.”

Chorsay’s index flashed before his eyes. “This is what I wanted to see, Owin. Very good.”

“Will I be able to do the dungeon?”

“Yes. You will perhaps find it easier than Myr will, unless Suta starts using magic again.” Chorsay waved them in. “We are eating breakfast together before you head out. I’ll send for a mender.”

“I have already eaten,” Vondaire said.

“I don’t care. Sit down.”

“Yes, sir.” Vondaire walked right past Chorsay and found a seat inside the mess.

“Why does he listen to you?” Owin asked.

“We made a deal.” Chorsay stepped outside and closed the door. He lowered himself to his knees, and still had to bend further to meet Owin’s eyes. “Even with your new attributes, the Ocean will not be simple. The top floors are isolated. Remember, that you are not alone. We will be waiting for you here in Atrevaar, and Myrsvai will be expecting to see you when he conquers the final floor. I know you have been on an isolated floor once, but that was long ago now.”

Owin nodded.

“You know your way through almost half the dungeon. Be a smart hero and see if you can’t inspire Suta.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know.” Chorsay patted him on the shoulder. “When we eat, is there anything you want?”

“I like having the drinks.”

“Usually we have tea or coffee in the mornings. Are you thinking of one of those drinks or when we have wine or whiskey?”

“Any of the drinks.” Owin shrugged.

“You have a long time of portal travel ahead of you. There is no harm in a celebration early in the morning.” Chorsay stood and gestured inside.

“Sparring only proved that Vondaire is faster than me. I still need to test out my new attributes.”

Chorsay closed the door, leaned on the wall, and folded his arms across his chest. “Show me what you can do.”

Owin nodded. He slipped the lich bone knife into his belt and returned to his normal spot, back on the cracks Chorsay had formed long ago. “What do I do?”

“Jump.”

Owin squatted and pushed himself off the ground. He launched himself into the air, soaring almost twenty feet up before slowing. Normally, he would feel like he had lost control at the apex of a jump, but with higher dexterity, he felt in control. As he landed on his feet, he rolled forward and bounced on his feet.

“Better.” Chorsay walked to the cracks and stood with his arms hanging at his sides. “Go to the wall and dash. Punch me in the stomach. If you can speed blitz me, you can handle just about anything in the dungeon.”

“Vondaire is way faster than me.” Owin stopped at the metal wall and ran his hand over the surface.

“An umbra should be faster than you. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Umbras, hunters, and assassins will always be the fastest classes. When you outpace them . . .” Chorsay shrugged. “We’ll have a reason to celebrate.”

Owin nodded once. A straight sprint into a punch. Full speed. As fast as he could go. Simple as that. Chorsay wasn’t known for his speed, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Owin pushed off and dashed straight across the courtyard. He hopped off his last stride and punched right at Chorsay’s stomach. The old man’s fist appeared, taking the full force of Owin’s punch.

Chorsay was grinning when Owin looked up. “Incredibly quick.”

“You still blocked it.”

“I cheated.” He winked.

“You used an ability?”

“I did. Run more. Jump more. Get used to your new strength. When you’re done, come inside. This morning, we’re celebrating.” Chorsay opened the door to the mess. “Grab the whiskey.”

Miya pounded her fists on the table. “Yes!”

Sanem was just walking in as she rolled her eyes. “Chorsay, bad idea.”

She was followed by a smiling man. He had a trimmed beard and a bald head. “Let him celebrate!”

“Raif,” Sanem said.

Owin walked right up to the man and held out his hand. Raif stopped and crouched. He shook Owin’s hand. “I’m Owin.”

“Raif. I’ve heard about you.”

“I’ve heard about you too. It’s nice to meet you.”

Sanem’s index was in front of her eyes as she kicked Owin. “What happened? You’re so strong!”

“Ernie and Katalin sent me a box of buffs.”

Raif’s index also flashed before his eyes. “You are formidable.”

Myrsvai and Suta slipped past. Raif lifted his hands, causing Suta to do the same. Myrsvai rolled his eyes.

“Everyone take a seat. We’ll have a toast to Myrsvai, Owin, and Vondaire,” Chorsay said.

Suta pounded on the table.

“And Suta, of course.”

The familiar nodded.