Bureaucracy was a bore. There weren’t other ways to interpret the unending nonsense of politics. As much as the military would like to place itself above such petty things, the Izylia Unity Force was just as entangled as any other branch of the Izylian government.
Vondaire had sat up all night, watching a clock, waiting for the exact second his contract ended. As soon as the clock hit midnight, he opened his window and tossed his segmented armor out the window. It was therefore unfortunate that someone happened to be walking on the street below. A quick apology and some carefully dropped dungeon coin made up for the error.
He walked confidently in the sunlight, electing to wear his pressed suit, even if his time as a portal guard was done. So many people thought themselves better than Vondaire, when all it had been was their title or their years of service. None of that mattered when one had true power.
Vondaire was more than confident in his own talents. The only thing holding him back had been the contract he had so desperately signed. Now that the Unity Force’s leash was torn, he could finally acquire shards and show the Taralims of the world his talent and power.
It had been a long time coming. Years of servitude, holding him back. Meanwhile, there was a goblin flaunting itself around Verdantallis without any restrictions. It was bizarre that nobody had taken steps to truly stop the mob.
Owin seemed a nice enough fellow, but if he was still sauntering around Atrevaar, he was going to take attention away from Vondaire’s rise. Only one star could shine at a time in Verdantallis. Althowin had her moment eighty years ago. Voolyn burned out when he stalled. The rest of the shard heroes were filled with too much cowardice to be famous.
Killing the goblin wouldn’t solve any issues. Vondaire had already gone out of his way to help Owin survive, after all. What a waste of effort that would be if he simply sliced the little creature’s head off.
No, it would be more efficient to stall him, the same as Voolyn. People’s interest wanes quickly when one doesn’t improve, no matter how unique they are. Most 3 Shard Heroes and above were hardly human anyway. It takes the uniqueness of Owin away when one looks at the truly powerful of the world.
What would Vondaire fuse with? Something weak allows one to maintain almost all of their human traits and characteristics. It is something to be recognized for your appearance without having to change any of it to a dramatic degree. On the other hand, there is something to be said about being recognized for your fusion. Althowin is plainly an old hag, generally recognized for her ears or tail above anything else. Few, if any, living shard heroes have managed to fuse with something as rare as a kitsune.
At the same time, there were the grotesque fusions like Taralim, his old commander. Taralim, who was standing in the alleyway Vondaire had just passed. A foolish assassin assumes they are smarter and more talented with stealth than an umbra.
Vondaire walked past the alley, far enough that Taralim wasn’t able to follow. As soon as he left the fool’s view, Vondaire vanished. He became invisible, moved like lightning, and let himself reappear directly behind Taralim.
The assassin didn’t flinch. “Your contract is finished.”
“I’m aware.” Vondaire crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have the paperwork?”
Taralim turned around. His eyes glowed brightly in the shade. “Saves us time.” He handed a packet to Vondaire. “To acknowledge the end of your service to the Izylia Unity Force.”
Vondiare skimmed the document, ensuring he wasn’t signing away more of his life to the damn government. He signed and initialed in three separate spots before handing the packet back.
“They should have extended your contract as punishment for helping the goblin,” Taralim said.
Vondaire smiled and walked into the sunlight, making a show of letting it warm his face. “We all have our own motivations, Taralim. Enjoy your service and your leash.”
Taralim scowled and vanished. Vondaire had to admit the assassin was flashy. Even with his heightened senses, Vondaire didn’t have the slightest idea where Taralim had gone. If he were to attack, the warning would flash in Vondaire's mind moments before the attack. Without intention to harm, Taralim was completely invisible.
Now that his contract had officially ended, there was nothing left for Vondaire in Oriathria. Its proximity to the Great Forest was the only redeeming quality of the capital city. One day he would return to acquire Ruvaine’s shard, but before then, he had work to do. Some spoke of going through the Great Forest first as its earlier floors are short and often easier than others.
But Vondaire had another way of looking at the seven dungeons of Verdantallis. Each shard made future dungeons considerably more difficult, meaning it was best to conquer one of the more frustrating dungeons first. The Fortress was by far the most difficult in terms of combat, though Vondaire wasn’t in the least bit concerned about that. In fact, it was likely the last dungeon he would conquer.
The Subterranean had the most difficult mobs with the claverstan and their horrid cities, but it wasn’t more or less difficult as a whole dungeon, from what he had heard. The level of difficulty relied entirely on one’s class and abilities. The Ocean was difficult for hunters and wizards whose abilities don’t work correctly under the water. The Sky was difficult for those who can’t maneuver with any skill. The Great Forest was difficult for those who can’t fight enemies bigger than a human.
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Each had its difficulty, so which was the most annoying? Clearing the obnoxious dungeon before he had a shard to complicate things would be the easiest and best option.
Only one dungeon came to mind.
The Ocean.
Who wanted wet socks? It would prune his fingers and ruin his hair, but some things were worth the sacrifice, even if he dreaded them.
Vondaire strolled through Oriathria, paid the portal guard, cracked a smile at the thought of never doing that again, then stepped through the dark portal to Atrevaar. From there, he could travel to Vraxridge then off to Minolitana Prima.
The last three floors of each dungeon were a complete mystery. Nobody ever divulged their secrets, especially about the top. While Vondaire was more than confident in himself, he had a single anxious thought: A simple trap could be his doom.
A trap that caused harm, a trap that pitted him against a mob that he was ill suited to battle. Whatever trap it might be, he wanted to be aware. Through most dungeons, the traps had been obvious or easy to avoid, but he had never gone past the fifth floor of a dungeon. The top half of each was a mystery, and Vondaire hated mysteries. There was no humor in solving puzzles.
On his way north, why not visit the odd goblin and his hero company? Perhaps there had been some developments since their last tense encounter.
Vondaire appeared in Atrevaar. Workers covered the front of the Nimble Hog Hero Company, repairing the damage Taralim had caused a few weeks before. The work was nearly finished, leaving the old building looking far more sophisticated than it had been before.
People moved through the portal circle, appearing in Atrevaar and vanishing to other parts of Verdantallis. The pain that tickled his skin through the portal had helped him feel more awake. Some people arrived, gasping for air. Those people were likely first time travelers, or they hadn’t used a portal in a long time. It was something that required some acclimation. Vondaire now found it refreshing, like a strong cup of coffee in the morning. Or so he assumed. Caffeine had never been for him. An anxious mind was a clouded mind, and Vondaire relied on his mind too much to allow it to be tainted.
A giant moved down the street outside the portal circle. Vondaire effortlessly spotted him immediately. It was difficult to miss Chorsay. He was at least a foot taller than practically anyone else in Atrevaar. The old man carried a loaf of bread and a bag of groceries so casually.
Chorsay Eoghet was one of the strongest people in Atrevaar, and here he was going about his own chores. There was no reason someone like Chorsay should not have an assistant, or even a full squad of assistants doing everything on his behalf. His best option would be to train and prepare for another dungeon.
Unfortunately, that wouldn’t happen. Chorsay had “retired” from what Taralim had said before their raid on the Nimble Hogs. The old soldier had decided to stop venturing into dungeons for some unknown reason.
He walked so calmly, so happy with himself and his fresh loaf of bread.
It was disgusting.
Vondaire had intended to wait and watch the goblin from afar. Once the beast had acquired his first shard, Vondaire wanted to know just how high his attributes could reach. Was there a limit? Had he developed any skills or spells? Patience, this time, was not worth the effort. The goblin would likely become a Shard Hero soon, and Vondaire had no interest in letting all the light shine on the little green freak.
Vondaire left the portal circle and slipped through the citizens of Atrevaar to intercept the 2 Shard Hero, the leader of the Nimble Hogs.
Chorsay spotted Vondaire the moment he stepped off the platform. Even Vondaire had no idea how a soldier would spot him so easily. Chorsay stopped on the sidewalk under an awning, waiting for Vondaire to approach.
Before it was going to be an exciting surprise where Vondaire got to reintroduce himself to Chorsay, reminding the oaf of the help Vondaire had been with the goblin. Now, he was the defender as Chorsay’s hard eyes watched every little movement Vondaire made.
“You’re out of uniform,” Chorsay said.
“My contract ended last night. I am a free hero.”
Chorsay’s face didn’t shift. “Why are you here?”
“Straight to business, I see. I thought one such as you might have fun with the day to day. Having experienced so much in your old age has not lightened your heart.”
“I have little patience for people who try to cause harm.”
“I assisted the gobli—”
“He has a name.”
Vondaire bowed respectfully. “I assisted Owin and his friends in their retrieval of you.”
“I know.”
“I thought, perhaps, that would put us on some type of friendly grounds, but it appears I have misread the situation. I sense an intense amount of hostility, though I am here not as a member of the Izylia Unity Force, but as a free citizen of Verdantallis.”
Chorsay put the loaf of bread under his arm and dug through the bag. He pulled out a grape, popped it in his mouth, and chewed calmly for a few seconds, staring blankly at Vondaire.
Never before had Vondaire been so unsure of what to do. The soldier swallowed the fruit and raised his eyebrows. “Is that all?”
“You never responded.”
“Hm.” Chorsay plucked another grape from his grocery bag and walked past Vondaire. “Good luck with whatever you are here to do.”
Vondaire stood in the same spot, dumbstruck. How had he gotten so confused? He had been the one to approach Chorsay, yet he was the one left confused.
“Wait,” Vondaire called, hurrying after Chorsay. “I want to know more about the dungeons.”
Chorsay finished eating another grape and slowed on the sidewalk. The Nimble Hogs’ headquarters were just up the street, barely another minute away. “Why would I tell you? I have heroes I care for that would do more with that information.”
Whether Vondaire wanted to admit it or not, Chorsay knew things that Vondaire desperately needed to know. There was no doubt that Vondaire’s talent and skills could take him far in the dungeons, but the top three floors of all seven were a complete mystery. Someone like Taralim would never give up any secrets, and the other shard heroes in Verdantallis weren’t the friendliest lot. If Vondaire was going to truly become a shard hero, he needed to survive all the way to the end of the tenth floor, which meant he needed to know what he would face.
He couldn’t believe the words that came to his mind. Was he really so desperate? “I’ll join the Nimble Hogs.”
Chorsay stuck out his hand. “Deal.”