Nero skulked through the gates among the crowd of unsuspecting passersby. The guards didn't even look in his direction, and he wondered how people protected themselves against fifth-tier [Rogue] or [Assassin] or whatever advanced Class they got at that tier. His conclusion was that it was too expensive to protect the main city gates against people with too-high stealth and levels, restricting it to more sensitive portions of the city, like the noble quarters of the palace.

The sprawling metropolis was too big. Nero traveled too little on foot and during his rides in Lamuril's horseless carriage he was usually too distracting admiring the company by his side rather than learning how to walk around the city. He also noticed that he couldn't see the palace from the southern gate or the nearby streets. A bit lost, he wandered for half an hour, using the fact that the well-maintained cobblestone streets didn't suffer much from his passing to run at a good pace, dodging carriage traffic, startling a few perceptive beasts of burden, and weaving between the people until he found a familiar setting. He was next to the Lyceum.

Maybe it was fate. Nero went to the nearest gate and tried to cross but found the bars closed. A guard was manipulating some goggles very similar to his first pair.

"Presence detected without visual confirmation," He said without looking in Nero's direction. "Show yourself."

"I'm a Research Assistant of the Gadgeteering department," Nero replied. "Coming out now."

He deactivated his stealth, still startling the guard even though he'd pinpointed his location from his voice. Freaking orange Skills. After showing his uniform and badge, Nero was let in after he changed his clothes in the guardhouse's locker room.

"Why were you skulking around?" The guard asked.

Nero wiggled an eyebrow and spoke cryptically. "Are you sure you want to know? I would ask you to not log in my name."

"No, not really. Good day to you, Research Assistant."

Nero nodded and walked into the campus. From there he made a beeline for the gadgeteering department, annoyed that the door wouldn't open for him. With a sudden bout of inspiration, he switched Classes and used [Essence Manipulation] on the sensor. The door slid open.

He walked around, drawing some attention from the students. There were not many white-uniforms in the building and some of them recognized him. Nero took the stairs to the fourth floor and knocked on Bezzias' lab door.

"Do come in," The bat-kin scholar's voice came from inside. Nero entered.

"Hey, professor. How's it going?"

Bezzias shook Nero's hand, then looked over his shoulder. "When did you arrive? Are Altia and Serena with you? I'm glad you survived, I heard things at the border with Coriander were terrible. I mean, prince Tyre's death was terrible news. We were afraid you would be lost, but the guild master came in-person to reassure us you were fine."

Nero raised a hand to stop Bezzias. He knew he was being a bit rude but it wasn't the time for social frivolities. Bezzias read his body language.

"Is something wrong?"

"A lot of things are wrong, professor. We are not in an emergency. I'd call it a state of alert. I need to know what commotion happened at the guild. I'm afraid it involves me."

Bezzias put a hand over his shoulder. "Nero. We bat-kin have an excellent sense of hearing, especially for nuances in sound. It's how we navigate in the dark. I can sense the stress in your voice. I know you are in a hurry, but a few minutes to catch your breath and compose your thoughts won't be missed. Can you stop for ten minutes to give me an abridged version? I won't interrupt you. Just go over the major events. Let me get a notepad."

Nero looked into the bat-kin's beady eyes. Bezzias talked to him like a grandfather would. He took a deep breath and then started to tell his tale.

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King Zander Alexander VI held court from his throne. Just a few nobles were present, the argument regarding the succession of those that died fighting against Coriander and the suppression force to retake Honeywitch keeping all of them busy. Tyre's death was forgotten by all but himself and maybe Aslanbek. He didn't blame the crown prince for his outburst that set a whole wing of the inner palace on fire. That was a reminder of his own failure for not teaching his son restraint. Something he needed to address sooner rather than later.

It also meant he couldn't step down from the throne yet. He was feeling the years, even though his enhanced Vigor, Endurance, and Willpower adding years to his lifespan. Not enough yet. A high level puts a huge strain on one's lifeforce from a lack of Essence absorption. Such was the price of power. At the sixth tier, he should be delving at least once a month, to recharge his energy. A king had no such luxury. Delving was too risky, even if he entered a Dungeon at the lower end of his absorption range. Taking a group of knights was even worse. In the lawless Dungeon, a single act of treason could spell doom. No, the King was forbidden from delving by duty to his nation. He had to make do with an expensive contraption that could infuse a room with Essence, mimicking a Dungeon's environment for a short while. It cost hundreds of thousands of Essence each time it was activated.

The king remembered a proverb. Heavy is the head that holds the crown. He looked away from the bickering nobles assembled and at his trusty advisor. "Zuzah, who is scheduled next?"

The blue-feathered garuda leaned next to him and answered. "There was a change in the audience schedule, sire. Guild Master Amaryllis demanded an urgent audience. It has to do with the apprehension of some of her employees."

That intrigued Zander. Why did guild employees do to deserve being arrested? "Enlighten me."

"The crown prince sent a hard inquiry regarding the information on a certain Adventurer. The one the late prince Tyre hired. The guild refused to comply, and His Highness decided to make a show of force."

A lesser man would've groaned and reacted. King Zander's face remained impassible. But not three months ago both the Guild Gaster and the Dean were before him, demanding him to curb the loyalists' overreaction and persecution of the nereids at the Lyceum. He did nothing, and it ended with a bloodbath. Bast's stability was hanging by a thread. Tyre was very useful in his death. By defeating the enemy general and the timely - too timely to be a coincidence - overflow of a Dungeon, Coriander gave up on the invasion. if he'd failed, they would have not one but a dozen armies marching on them.

There was more to this story, and he was burning to know just as Aslanbek was. The only difference was that his age and experience coalesced into better restraint. The corpse they buried as Tyre was a Dungeon construct. A monster level fifty-six that looked awfully like the prince. Why such a thing existed? Why did Amaryllis bring that abomination in place of his son? What happened to Tyre? Was that a warning?

Maybe the conflict with the guild was deserved. Now that the other nations wouldn't invade... No. Fighting against the whole guild would throw the nation into a civil war. Zander felt that the King would not be able to obtain the answers the father deserved. Maybe he should take a step back to take two forward.

"What do you recommend, Zuzah?"

The garuda froze for a moment. He was maybe the only person to whom Zander could show something that was not a golden statue of strength and pride.

"I think you should invite the Guild Master to your solar for a cup of tea, sire."

"Bring her in."

Zander droned through the ceremonies. The nobles lined up, took their place, and straightened their backs. The crier announced the guests.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Guild Master Amaryllis of the Adventurer's Guild. Adventurer [Armsmaster] Byron. Adventurer [Magus] Rhynne."

The doors opened. Zander recognized the two coming behind the pixie. He closed his eyes and remembered. Twenty years ago, the same trio of Adventurers, along with three others were in this same hall. Another crisis plagued the continent. The minotaur king threatened to throw the continent into chaos, and then conquer it all piecemeal. While he reminisced they approached the correct distance for foreign envoys and did not kneel. The nobles whispered among themselves, outraged.

"Kneel." Zuzah declared from behind him.

"Under an edict by His Majesty himself," The burly man to the right of the pixie stated. "We owe no obligations to the Kingdom of Bast. We shall stand."

It took two seconds for Zander to make the connections. He had issued less than half a dozen of such edicts, and he knew each one. It must be the last one. Zuzah was about to say something but Zander raised his hand.

"The crown recognizes your right," The King spoke. "[Armsmaster] Byron, I hope your children are in good health. It is the wish of the crown that they find happiness and prosperity."

Byron nodded. Rhynne smiled and did a slight curtsy. Amaryllis didn't change her expression. The pixie was angry. And that was a bad sign.

"State your case," Zuzah said, following protocol.

Amaryllis spoke. "We demand the immediate release of our employees that were unjustly arrested."

Zander immediately raised a hand and activated a Skill. [Imposing Aura] would keep everyone in check and avoid an escalation. Zander's heart demanded he threw protocol to the wind.

"Guild Master, could we talk this over a cup of tea in my solar?"

"That would be acceptable, Zander," She grinned and relaxed.

The King stood, towering over everyone from his eight feet of height even without the raised dais of the throne. "The court is dismissed. Zuzah, escort my guests. This way, please."

They walked through the back door in silence. Once the doors closed behind him, Zander heard the assembled nobles go berserk. He felt lost. Without the full picture, any decision he took was a spear stabbing in the darkness of a crowded room. He was more likely to hit an ally than an enemy. Such was the nature of chaos.

He prayed for the wisdom of his ancestors but felt as if his wishes went unheard.

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Nero took ten minutes to tell Bezzias the gist of what happened, including the truth of the prince's fate. When he finished, the bat-kin professor looked at him with disbelief.

"Yes. The combination of abilities would act as you described, at least in theory. But Nero, this information's importance is beyond anything else. No new Dungeons have appeared in the last thousands of years. Yet the Lyceum surveyors detected a new one appearing."

Nero nodded. "Yes. I doubt I can replicate the feat, but the fact it happened once will make people wonder. I hope you understand that..."

Bezzias smiled. "The trust you deposited in me will not go unanswered, my young pupil. But I must beg you to share this information with the Dean. We should gather Tinkwezilsky and Glom along the way. Come."

The young minnid felt as if a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. No. That was wrong. The weight was still there, but the task of bearing it was no longer only his. He followed the bat-kin professor out of the laboratory but paused for a moment to put a keyed persistent portal on an empty corner.

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They sat and a servant poured them tea before disappearing. Zander waved a hand and Zuzah went away. The three guests sitting across the King sipped their tea before Zander. The act had a deep meaning. They were not afraid of anything the King could do to them. They had leverage and they knew he needed it. Amaryllis' next actions said as much out loud.

The pixie stared at him, smirked, and giggled before shifting her mood and becoming serious. "We have the answers to all your questions, Zander. And there's only one way you'll get them."

Zander almost said 'you want your employees back' but it couldn't be so simple. He reminded himself of the fairy's abilities. Not only her race was naturally blessed with great magical potential, she, like him, was a sixth-tier, maybe even a seventh. Information about her true abilities was hard to come by and most of the time they were so absurd most refused to believe.

He gathered all his thoughts and feelings regarding the situation. The King let his shoulders slump, and the father, the man spoke. "What do you want, Amaryllis?"

She beamed the same grin, a mix of mockery, childish mirth, and motherly love. "Simple. We want you and your family to stop acting like bumbling imbeciles."

Zander gripped the armrest and crushed the wood. He clenched his teeth and reigned in his anger. His pride demanded compensation. But his resolve was greater. He knew every action, every twitch of her muscles, even the position of her wings had meaning. She was a prankster but could also dive into the heart of a problem like an arrow shot by an elven Pilin'Tuura. The problem was knowing which was which.

"Is that how you see us?" He asked with gritted teeth, barely restraining his anger.

"Zander, Zander," The pixie clicked her tongue tut-tutting in disapproval. "We are here as friends to help you out of a spiny situation. We bring information, advice, and the solution to your recent woes. Dismiss us at your own risk. And please wait for us to get out of the castle before priming another wing for renovation."

They stared into each other's eyes for several minutes.

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The professors and Nero were sitting on the comfortable couches at the Dean's office. They listened along with the draconid to Nero's retelling of the story he told Bezzias. Their expressions went from worry to disbelief to something closely comparable to insanity.

Xalazuniox closed his eyes, apparently absorbed in thought. Bezzias clipped Nero's shoulder, reassuring him.

"You are special, Nero," the draconid said. "And before anything, I want to reassure you that you are a member of this family," He stretched his arms to signify the whole Lyceum. "And we look after our own."

"I am very grateful, Dean," Nero said, feeling humbled.

"We received several inquiries from the palace regarding you and other things related to you. One of them, in particular, I allowed to go through," Xalazuniox said with a feral grin.

The impression was wrong but it couldn't be helped as his draconic muzzle was so detached from beast-kin mouths that without a lot of experience reading his facial expressions was difficult even though people were used to living with beast-folk.

"Which one was it?"

"Crown Prince Aslanbek inquired about known instances of someone with a level cap of zero. We found none in our records but yours. However, the keyword 'level cap zero', brought one important piece of old information about one crazy Adventurer. His name was Kherghak," He said and widened one eye as he read Nero's reaction, his equivalent of raising an eyebrow. "You heard of him!"

"Yes, I did," Nero admitted. "I obtained a Skill named after him. Orange-grade, no requirements. It... I think it is better if I draw a mockup of it for you."

Xalazuniox chuckled, a throaty growl coming from him. "That would be greatly appreciated."

Nero took blank card cutouts and painted the mockup. "Here. [Chains of Kherghak]."

The mockup made its rounds, and Nero used the time to paint copies of the mockup of his fourth black-grade card. He left the acquisition method out as he always did, and instead of his own Dungeon name, he added "a Dungeon name here" in different lettering to fill the spot. He also omitted both the additional text quote as they were his own words and the image of the prince Tyre chained.

"Kherghak was an Adventurer who allegedly had a level cap of four hundred on activation," Xalazuniox said. "He refused to level up, though. Somehow his research was close to what Bezzias' is doing but that did not come from reputable sources. We only have legends about him. The text we found told that Kherghak wished to be free of the limiter and forged cards to reduce his cap. His stated goal was to lower his cap until it vanished, making him a level zero."

Nero focused on one piece of information. "Forged cards? Like this one?"

"Yes," The draconid answered and looked at Tinkwezilsky.

"You used the card press, didn't you?" Tinkwezilsky refreshed Nero's memory. "And you summoned technological equipment from cards as well," He pointed at Nero's hat with goggles. "Well, we know cards come into being by compressing Essence and codifying information patterns into the Essence. These patterns work as the building bricks to create the object. But where does the information pattern comes from? Our best answer is the card press. It can only copy a stored pattern."

"But if that's true," Nero asked, "how could my [Gadgeteer] class card become yellow if the pattern I selected was green?"

"Good observation!" the gnome cheered. "You see, the pattern for all the cards with the same name along all grades is the same. Happenstance or factors out of our control, like the operator's absorption rate or the residual resonance from a myriad of factors impact the quality and special factors of the card."

"But the big question here," Bezzias picked up the lecture's main theme before the gnome went on a tangent to never return. "Is where these patterns come from? How can the same card drop in several different Dungeons? How can a newborn Dungeon know the patterns? The one you now steward over, where did it learn how to make the cards you obtained?"

Nero's mind swam to the cards he obtained on the first kills of the Shameful Leonal. They were all themed. And they hinted at bits of the very history of the country.

"By all that's holy!" Nero gasped. He felt the heat drain from his fingertips as he panicked with the information his epiphany gave him. "We do. We make the cards. Kherghak made cards. I made a card. The Dungeons, they..."

He looked at the contraption strapped to his wrist and tapped the display while he made his point.

"The Dungeons read our minds and get the patterns from the information they extract. The flavor text on the black [Dungeon Keeper] card, it was the very words I told prince Tyre before he was imprisoned."

They gave him a cup of chamomile tea. Once Nero calmed down, Xalazuniox asked for one bit of information.

"You didn't tell us the name of the new Dungeon. It has a name, doesn't it? This card mockup here says as much."

"No. Because the name of the Dungeon is 'Leonal's Prince Shame'. The illustration which I also omitted, is Prince Tyre bound in chains as the Dungeon dragged his soul into eternal servitude. And the additional text quote was my own words. The last words Tyre heard before his imprisonment."

Nero shut his mouth.

"You don't need to share them with us if you don't want to, Nero," Bezzias reassured him.

"No," the young man shook his head. "I must. My words were as follows.

> "Wallow in your shame, monster! Great leonal prince you are! Have shame!"