CHAPTER 9 – IRON

Iron Dungeon – Shadowfell – Near Frostholme – Erebus

***

The Ice Queen, leader of the 4th Ranked Faction in the world and Representative of the Wild Tribes, one of the most powerful and oldest Factions in the Multi-Verse ducked under another leaping Night Lynx as it sailed over her head. She spun holding her Orb of the Arctic Dream up while channeling her [Touch of the Frozen Wastes] through it turning the melee attack into a ranged one as a blue/white light shot out of it’s surface to lance the landing beast, freezing it’s back legs to the ground. She twisted back towards the Main Boss of the Dungeon, a massive buffed up version of the creature that had just attacked her. She knew Solin, her Elite Frost Warden they’d added to the party to make five would take care of the creature she’d iced behind her and with the sizzling of flesh and tide of pain ridden yowls echoing out at her back that suddenly cut off, she knew the Ember Mage had done just that. Though she felt it was oxy-mornic to call someone that played with lava and fire a Frost Warden ridiculous but not something she wanted to fight with Vivian about. The woman was a hard ass.

Vines filled with thorns and a dripping green venom lanced out of the ground to slither over the massive Feline Boss. Wherever the venom touched the shadowed flesh showed acidic burns while the thorns also did their business as the offending vines twisted around all four limbs of the beast. Jolie’s [Envenomed Vines] was brutal and right on cue her lover’s best friend and animal companion, Shoza, leapt upon the back of the Elite Mid-Iron Boss going to work with his claws, the huge leopard made to look small next to it’s victim though he would be considered formidable in any other comparison.

Another two of the Boss’s minions slunk out of the shadows no more then ten feet from her left and her leg, bleeding from an earlier swipe, limited her options with what to do about it as well as her dwindling resources. Her Mana and Stamina were on the lower side from the absolute marathon of attrition that made up this forest biome Dungeon and all of them were sporting some kind of injury showing the true danger of these Iron Ranked bastards when most of them were Scions with multiple Titles. Jolie’s Spirit had been low hence the decision for her to not heal them up fully. They’d also already gone through their stash of Life Elixirs.

She raised her Orb once more and called [Fury of the North] as an arctic gale force wind blasted out in front of her tossing the two cats back into the brush and trees from which they’d come, ice crystals forming on their bodies. She heard heavy thumps as they kept going until they hit something that wouldn’t move. Many of the trees in her sight were cracked and covered in patches of cold and the brush was literally ripped out of the ground and tossed into the deep dark of the distant trees.

That literally knocked Yolana’s massive Mana reservoir into Mid-Red showcasing the literal avalanche of combat they’d faced for two days straight pushing through the Shadowfell, the name of the Dungeon they’d entered. She heard a growl behind her and did her best to twist but her bad leg gave out as she fell to the ground cursing. One of the Elite Cats had snuck up on her while she’d taken care of the lesser beasts. The Boss originally had had three of them protecting it but they’d put down two of them. The Elite was twice the size of the lesser ones on par with Shoza. The creature took a few running steps then leapt at her. She raised her Orb but a figure covered in a high-tech armor with blades coming out of forearm sheaths tackled it as a scream echoed out of the fully armored form.

“Don’t worry Snowflake!! Momma’s got you!!!”

She wanted to yell at her Mother to retreat but then watched her shred the elite in brutal fashion. That was the one beautiful thing she’d pulled from the World Council besides the Alliances she’d formed. The Consortium had an Ancient Level Iron Ranked curative that healed her Momma, saved her life. It had cost most of the Faction’s money, almost utterly depleting their reserves but was worth every coin. Not only had she recovered but had dropped right back into the tornado that had been Queen of one of the largest Tribes within their Old World.

She had broken down in tears and pride when she’d first regained consciousness after learning of her Daughter’s position and immediately took over as Commander of all Military Forces shouting to any that would listen she would allow no one to hurt her Snowflake. She’d then climbed within weeks all the way to Iron spending every single day running solo into nearby monster infested sections of the forest refusing any protectors or allies. She’d return every day battered but stronger with a vicious triumphant laugh.

Her Momma was of the Forge Foundational and the Transformational Soul-Pillar, all Martial as she’d always been. All her Abilities rolled around her being able to create her power armor, each Ability adding a new function to it. It was a unique and strange set-up. Her Mother’s form hammered up from ten feet away covered in the dark blood the creatures spilled when cut open. Within a blink she’d flashed to her daughter who was still on her ass. The sleek futuristic face plate of her Mother’s armor slid up to reveal a feral grin while a blood streaked gauntlet reached down. Yolana smiled as she grabbed the gift of her Mother alive and was lifted to her feet. Then the joyous voice hit her.

“Focus Snowflake, we in the game of death and it’s time to dance!”

Yolana wanted to smack herself. She’d been forged in the heat of battle over and over and here she was so in awe and appreciation of not only her Mother’s prowess but being alive she’d reverted to the small child who followed in her shadow instead of the Ice Queen that was her truth. And while she’d been tip toeing in the lost and long dead day dreams the Boss had teleported once again jumping from shadow to shadow and her lover was being besieged, her animal companion on the ground next to her dragging himself on two back legs that looked broken.

Jolie looked wiped of Spirit. The Cat like it’s lessers was playing with its prey. That choice would prove fatal. She lifted her orb and pushed the last dregs of her Mana into another blast of [Touch of the Frozen Wastes] the blue/white beam crashing into the back leg of the Boss as it readied to leap upon the woman she loved. The beast howled as it leg was encased in a block of ice to the ground. The Boss jerked its head to her tormentor and threw a hiss its eyes zeroing in on her location with malice. She could see the gathering shadows once more indicating it would shadow jump again. Half it’s body was covered in seeping wounds from Jolie’s vines. And she could see it was on its last legs.

Jolie’s eyes looked at her with multiple emotions dancing within that Yolana knew even at fifty yards, pain, love, loyalty and Faith. The Ice Queen scowled with violence directing her eyes behind her to find the rest of her people. Solin and Losin, the Astral Scion, were mopping up the last of the lesser cats. It was time to end this. Her voice rang out.

“Losin!!! Lock that Boss down!! Keep it from teleporting!!! Solin, roast it!!”

Losin immediately threw his bracer covered forearm in the Boss’s direction, a royal blue mixed with baby blue stream of energy lancing out and forming an emanating glow around the huge cat, keeping it locked in space. A huge blast of lava burst from the earth underneath it eliciting a yowl of agonizing horror. She heard chuckling to her side. Her Momma had the visor of her fancy helmet up still and was laughing, joy and love in her eyes.

“There’s the woman I knew my Snowflake would become. I love you more then the stars in the sky.”

The visor slid closed and her voice came out more modulated.

“Let your Momma finish this for you my Queen!!!”

Her blades slid out of her armored forearms as she charged with a bellowing war cry. Yolana smiled. She had her Momma back where she belonged, at her side.

***

Oklahoma – Home of the Shadow Conclave – Erebus

***

Ezekiel Washington, known as the Gunslinger by name, sat at his desk with his feet up, sweaty, covered in blood and hungry for a shower to get the remnants of the pain in the ass Iron Dungeon off him but he promised Nuri he’d have this pow wow with the Administrator they’d assigned to Oklahoma. She was a godsend as neither of them nor the Tempest Scion, I’Virsi, had the time nor the inclination. She was human whose name was Edith Jenkins and she’d been a Head Librarian at some main branch in Maine before the whole end of the world event.

She was only an Uncommon Class of the Temporal Soul-Pillar but her mind was a steel-trap when it came to organization. He growled a bit knowing after the fact that his woman had sent him here so she could go do what he wanted to and take a shower. She was probably laughing at him right now with hot water steaming off her back. Damn woman. He said it with a smile though knowing he could never in his life ask for a better woman, at least for him. A lot of people he knew behind her back talked about her being hit with the ugly stick but to him, every time she smiled, the sun rose in his heart. She was his ride or die and he’d known it the day in the Tutorial when she’d leapt in front of his fallen ass, fucked up and injured herself, to stop the Demon Lord the System had brought to challenge them from putting him permanently in the ground. The fierce look on her face as she’d stood over him like she was a wall that would never buckle when the man she loved was on the other side had filled his soul to completion.

The System might have taken a lot from the people of Earth it had honestly given him far more than it had taken. He had Nuri, a position of Authority with the Shadow Conclave, which regardless of their past reputation, had stuck to the new direction they had explained to him to get him to take the position and had already initiated support for at least forty three planets where the indigenous population was enslaved or taken advantage of by Multi-Versal Factions. At least according to the reports he’d been given which he had faith in were the truth. And then there was Danny, his little Danny. He had his little girl back. The couple weeks she’d spent with them before heading to Umbra Mortem were worth more than a thousand wishes on a Genie’s ass.

That she and Nuri had gotten along like peas in a pod just made it a kick ass beauty in a tumbleweed town. He spat some tobacco into the can at his feet without missing a drop. His passive Utility Slot from his new Sub-Class [Gunslinger] was as good as caramel topped ice cream. It was called [Deadeye] and literally meant he never missed anything he targeted as long as the intent was there. It was a strange one though as it had no Levels and started at Iron which Nuri thought meant it would never get more powerful but he wouldn’t bitch. He’d already been a hell of a shot but now he was beyond even a master level Olympic pistoleer. Also picking that Sub-Class had made him guffaw hard. The man known as the Gunslinger now had a Class to back it up and the synergy with his Main-Class [Desperado] was bubblegum perfect.

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He’d hugged his kid so much in the couple weeks she’d been with them she’d almost gone crazy wanting to smack him. He couldn’t help it though. When she’d spoke to him at the World Council and lifted her mask he’d wanted to charge right over that minute, lift her up as he had when she was a kid and swing her around. Only Nuri had kept him on a leash telling him he’d put her in danger by letting everyone in the room know he cared for her.

That hadn’t been the case here in Oklahoma. He wasn’t dumb enough to think they didn’t have some spies but they were pretty thorough with their screening process and they didn’t take refugees like Gideon and his Faction. They had some non-combatants and family of their people but Oklahoma was a military base plain and simple, focused on one thing, war, a war they knew was coming. Their main objective hadn’t changed handed down to them from the Conclave Leader himself, protect Umbra Mortem and Gideon Sho at all costs.

Ezekiel trusted the War Crow like no other man he’d known, he’d earned that and more, and if his little Danny couldn’t be at his side the man was the next best thing. He was a good man rare as rare even before the whole apocalyptic shit, and according to his Daughter’s private messages sent through the communication network, a lethal fighter. She was also surrounded by a lot of soldiers in Umbra Mortem but he still didn’t understand the focus and why a Multi-Versal Faction would sacrifice what the Conclave had sacrificed all for one man in a newly integrated world.

He’d heard the rumors about Erebus producing more high Affinity Citizens then the entire history of the Multi-Verse ever and that alone made sense as with so many high Affinity people would lead to a shit ton of possible power houses in the future and if it was something inherent within the planet itself or more logically some special tobasco in the three races Ezekiel could understand the arms race that was happening in wanting to control the world but the interest placed on Gideon? That didn’t make a lick of sense. He was happy with the order as it had led him to making a powerful friend and fulfilling the dream of his Danny, to stand by the side of her savior and fight the good fight.

He himself already owed Gideon more than he could ever pay for saving his Daughter from the shit-bag Senator and his gaggle of assholes but now that she was back and him taking her in, he owed him a thousand times more. She was in heaven as a part of his Elite Party and that she had been a chip off the old block and been a Scion just like her pops was icing to the apple pie.

Pride and love didn’t even begin to cover how much he felt about her, what she’d been through and how strong she’d come out the other side. He remembered how hard it had been to not put two gunshots at the Senator’s head when he’d seen him at the Council but once again Nuri had stopped him.

She’d whispered in his ear that the man would get his and she’d be there to add her hammer to pounding his skull in. Still, it had been the hardest thing he’d ever done as a Father to not kill the man where he stood. He saw how Danny couldn’t even look in the man’s direction and had shaken with fear when he’d been introduced. Ezekiel promised himself the man would die and die hard at his hand. In fact he needed to converse with Gideon soon to see if the man wanted to join him. He’d put it off during the Challenge so far as the Iron Dungeons were harder then getting a bent nail off a mare’s hoof while she was in heat.

They’d just finished the second one near them and both times it had been a close thing. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be for anything less than multiple Scions in the Party. He would guess anything less would have to be Peak Iron to be able to pull one off and even then they would lose people in the doing. The System seriously didn’t feel as if fair was a part of its vocabulary. He spit once more to a can he’d placed more than five feet away and nailed it with a lopsided grin. The Old Man still had it. He jerked his head back to the door as it opened and a tiny mousy middle-aged lady with thick glasses and a large data pad in her hand. Ezekiel groaned. He was seriously going to be having a conversation with Nuri after this shit. She needed to quit pawning it off on him. They were supposed to take turns but somehow it always ended up with his ass in the chair.

***

New Tokyo – The Dragon’s Breath – Erebus

***

The Grand Dragon, Hiruto Sho, perched upon his throne, his katana, Soulstorm, sheathed in an ornate white and gold lacquered leather, was held in the middle, across his lap as he listened to the emissary from the U.C.E. and the infamous Senator now U.C.E. President, Walter Davis. The first two low level diplomats they’d sent he had turned away but this time it was one of the man’s main supporters, an ex-governor of one of the states in the Old World. He was a fat ugly man in all ways one could be a stain upon humanity, not even a sliver of honor and filled to the brim with sloth and gluttony, a typical American politician.

Hiruto cast [Skeins of Fate] as invisible threads wove themselves around the man to show a myriad of future paths which surprisingly all ended one way. The Grand Dragon smiled and next to him his Second, Sato, noticing the expression raised a questioning eyebrow his hand tightening upon the blade sheathed at his waist. On the other side of him, his other Second, the Hell’s Angel Jed ‘Skullmaker’ Sampson cradled his infernal laced shotgun in his arms, his entire face tattooed with symbols of death, skulls, coffins and such. Not even close to the honor driven tattoos of the Yakuza, more symbols for kills he’d made but the man had his uses. Hiruto finally tuned into the words coming from the Fat Man. He’d been allowed to bring in two of eight military entourage he’d brought with him. Both were equipped with System amplified American m4 Rifles wearing American military fatigues and System augmented flak jackets.

The Grand Dragon raised his hand to silence the Fat Man from continuing his avalanche of words. The two military men at his side bristled at the dismissal of their Emissary. The mixed squad of the Dragon’s Breath that cordoned them took a step closer while the two members of the eight man squad that were of the Hell’s Angels, chuckled. Their lack of Discipline irritated Hiruto but it was what it would be. They did not have the thousands of years of culture and traditions of the Yakuza. Every elite squad was made up of at least one representative of the major criminal organizations of the Faction.

He at least respected the Triad member in this group, while not truly following Bushido, they had something similar if a little more loose then those of the Yakuza. The Cartel female in the group was also less boisterous then the Mob Character next to her who joined the Hell’s Angels in laughing at the Fat Man. He was happy this group, which rotated, consisted of three Yakuza. The Fat Man began to get nervous with the laughter and the Grand Dragon’s silence so Haruto broke the boundary of his quiet judgment.

“Let me find clarity in your words Mr. Johnson. You seek to make an alliance with our organization, one of trade and mutual protection in the face of aggression while at the same time wanting to hire some of our elites to take care of an issue for you that seems to be beyond that which you yourself can accomplish. Is this correct?”

The Fat Man shook his head in the affirmative so quickly and nervously the corpulent jowls on his face shook independently. How this self indulgent fool had any position of power still in the new world where old money meant nothing spoke volumes about the head of the snake that was Walter Davis. The weasily voice that emitted from the man grated on the Grand Dragon’s ears.

“Yes my Lord Grand Dragon. We have many things to offer, our main export, exquisite slaves of all three races who have been trained to serve in a myriad of ways if you know what I mean. I myself have sampled many of the flavors available and they are delectable. We also have been making great strides in our technology having many Rare Classed Forgeborn.

There are many boons to being our friends and in the face of these Factions backed by Multi-Versal Empires we of Earth must stand together. We will even look past your acceptance of the other races if it means Humans retain control of our new World. In addition as you mentioned, we would need one of these eight man Elite Squads you have, one we would utilize to assassinate the one known as the War Crow. He has threatened our way of life and our leader personally. It can not stand but currently we are not in the a position to afford the man power to squash his Faction the way it deserves. Your past criminal enterprises leave you uniquely qualified to have forces much more skilled in assassination then our wondrous ex-military can put together, in fact we can sweeten the pot for you and give you twenty of our pleasure slaves at no cost. I have them with me just in…”

The Grand Dragon once again raised his hand putting an end to the Fat Man’s blather. This time however his voice held emotion, contempt, and a ridged layer of violence on the edge of release, his usual calm demeanor carved from his spirit by the man’s idiocy.

“The U.C.E. not only needs to readdress who they allow in positions of Authority but also put some thought into forming an actually competent scouting/spy network. We do not deal in slaves fool. We also do not allow mistreatment and rape of women which seems to be a common occurrence within your Settlement even amongst the human women you seem to think are so much purer than the Beastkin and Shade Elves. In addition you made an even worse, fatal judgment. You just inquired about an assassination squad whose purpose would be to kill my own Grandson.”

Without thought The Grand Dragon was a blur activating [Karmic Strike] as the head of the Fat Man went sailing within one breath skidding across the mosaic floor. The Skullmaker raised his hellish Soul-Bound shotgun named Fury and an explosion of a hell infused slug flew through the chest of one of the others while Sato glowed a nimbus pale yellow as his blade struck almost as quick as his Lord’s, the point of his Katana carving through the skull of the remaining man and out the back of his Skull.

The Grand Dragon looked back at the three corpses as he smoothly slid Soulstorm back into it’s lacquered sheath. His voice was once again calm and void of emotion.

“Skullmaker. Take the squad before you and slaughter all but one of the men in the foyer. Free the group of slaves they brought with them and see they receive medical care and are gifted a place within our society that will bless them with the respect they deserve. Release the one survivor with the same message I gave to the Fat Man, word for word. The Dragon’s Breath refutes the offer and if they so much as darken our border again, we shall be sending people to take Walter Davis’s head ourselves and save my Grandson the trouble.”

The Skullmaker laughed with a gleam in his eyes always relishing the chance to inflict violence. He marched his way out while the squad fell in behind him. Servants in white and gold traditional Japanese garb, men and women both began removing the corpses as others began cleaning the mosaic tiles of blood. Hiruto retreated back to his throne as he had a few other meetings to get through, this time, invited emissaries of Frostholme and Grundhelm. Sato moved back to his position by the side of his Lord, his face pensive. Hiruto’s voice was soft and quiet but loud enough for his Second to hear him.

“Speak my old friend. We have known each other for far too long for there to be anything but truth between us.”

Sato smiled and gave a brief bow of his head in respect to his old teacher. He had been his Son’s best friend and fellow student from a very young age. His loyalty was absolute and honor unmarked or sullied.

“I do not mean to question you but if not I then who? Do you think it wise to kill the emissary? Certainly reject their offer as would I in your stead, their way of life and utter lack of discipline and use of slaves is repugnant and without any honor but we are a lone island surrounded by larger predators, adding to the list of enemies? I do not see the strategy in such and did you not say my old Friend’s son, your Grandson would attempt to kill you the next time you were face to face?”

Hiruto scoffed with a smile as if he was imagining the battle between he and his Grandson.

“That is a matter between family and honor. I would do the same in his position even knowing our world as I do which he does not. To be honest I would be disappointed in him if he did not seek vengeance for his Father and Mother. Believe me, their deaths are truly the only things I regret in this life. I loved my son very much. Regardless I would not be who I am if I allowed anyone to strike at my blood with impunity and the sheer audacity to come to me of all people, even in ignorance, to ask to be the weapon aimed at his heart. They are lucky we are dealing with these damnable Dungeons or I myself would already be taking the fool Davis’s head.”

Sato smiled at the image.

“I understand Sensei and if you chose that road you know enough to be aware I would be at your side as always and ever.”

The Grand Dragon nodded accepting the truth of the statement.

“Sensei is a bit of a stretch between us Sato. I stopped being your teacher a long time ago.”

Sato shook his head and knelt with his sheathed blade held up.

“I disagree. You shall always be my Sensei, Grand Dragon, and more of a Father than I have ever known.”