The Wraiths of Keltharis marched down the road, finally in the correct direction: North. They had spent the last several weeks in the wilderness, wasting time traveling to numerous cities. It was only when she used her…feminine charms, that Anja finally heard the rumor they were needing to hear.
Of mercenaries gathering for a ship to Silverbrook, the pay just right. That there was an Ordeal that was recently conquered, a Path of Kings–one left unconquered for over a thousand years. That they would face a veritable bandit warlord, and Anya was getting a little excited to meet their new liege.
Anja had spent far too long frozen, and before that, under the watchful eyes of parents with good intentions. Aside from keeping her family’s ancient promise, she would finally have a few years of freedom.
She’d do everything she could to make the coming years fun and exciting, and… make her parent’s teeth grind when they learned of all the things she did, or perhaps didn’t do. That’ll show them!
“What’s that smug look on your face for, Sister?”
“You wouldn’t understand, little brother.”
Henrik snorted. “Oh, I wouldn’t? You weren’t looking proud of yourself because you found that hint about our Frostalf, would you? It’s not fair. I can’t just show a little cleavage and make a guy stupid and loose-lipped, spilling every rumor they’d ever heard, in an attempt to earn your favor.”
Her brother was totally off about what she was thinking about–the pitfalls of being the oldest daughter–but she would play along. Anja smirked. “Oh, I don’t know about that. There are some men bound to be interested in your fair, pale blue skin and elvish looks, a line might even form in the right place. Just…perhaps you might have difficulty dissuading them from the idea that you’re not at least a little into men, with how you style your long hair… and your mannerisms. Are you sure that you’re not? That bear beastfolk man that made his interest clear was probably able to give you a night you’d never forget.”
Henrik paled in remembrance. “That’s not funny, Sister. I don’t want some bear man–literal or figurative–wanting to put things into my holes. I want to have a fair and pretty girl hanging off of me and listening to all my words, and all of her hair to be on top of her head–maybe a tail–preferably.”
“Fairer and prettier than you? And perhaps you should try closing your mouth and listening for once instead, Brother. It’ll help give the illusion that something meaningful is happening inside that noggin’ of yours.
“That’s not nice, Sister. Oh-look. Try to look weak for a minute. These bandits might not come out otherwise.” Henrik tore his shirt, altered his aura to look like a beginner’s. Then, he reached inside his coin purse at his waist. It began to bulge out and get bigger, as he filled it with chips of ice, by casting a simple ice magic cantrip.
Anja had sensed them coming, but hadn’t thought they would be so stupid. All fifteen of the Wraiths were armed, with little belongings on them besides their weapons. She herself was wearing threadbare clothes, having only traded the bare minimum from their hunting… and from slaughtering a handful of bandits.
Anja did wear her Sageblade at her waist, which looked like a black, ornate, expensive sword. But… well, their auras alone should dissuade anyone from attacking…if they used their magical senses to check their skill, anyway.
Besides. Would bandits really think a group of trained knights were easy to rob? Even the way they walked should give it away.
Anja rolled her eyes. “If you entrap them just to slaughter them, it’s not fully an act of Valorous Good, you know.”
“Whatever. C’mon, hurry up! Do yours.”
Anja just gave him the look, and Henrik scoffed.
“Don’t be such a sourpuss. I’ll make sure my soul is at least good and gray before we meet our new liege. Would hate for our new liege to hate me right off the bat, of course. Or–wait. Maybe that’s better?” He tilted his head, his eyes getting a vacant look as he thought.
She sighed. “I’m not liking where your thoughts are going already, Brother.”
His smile grew wider, and he started gesticulating wildly as his idiot plan came together. “No…no, this is better! We are supposed to serve and help him, right? But can he really get a good challenge in this backwater? If anything, don’t you think our help will hurt him?” He then spread his arms wide with a goofy smile, as if he had made the perfect case for betraying their cause.
Anja groaned. “Stop talking…and looking, like an idiot. I know that the second part is challenging, but please do your best.”
He continued, ignoring her objection, “Wouldn’t it be better if we became a foil? A challenge that they must overcome? Orion loves that, doesn’t it? We could claim a Dark Kingdom of our own from some bad guy, and then–”
Anja’s heart beat, flooding her body with essence. Drawing upon her Concept, her body was empowered with Superiority as she dashed toward her brother.
He was ready and waiting for this, but his Concept of Drain was overpowered in but a mere instant, as her gauntleted fist slammed into his face. Then his stomach, causing him to double over, and then she tackled him to the ground with her knee on his chest and grasped him by the throat, as she put a hand on her Sageblade’s hilt.
Henrik paled, and Anja’s voice came out with authority.
“I said I don’t like it. We came here with a duty, an ancient promise to be upheld. I understand you are unhappy, appearing on this Frontier Shard thousands of years after it opened–I am not much happy about it either. We are true elites of Keltharis, and we deserve our own shot at ownership of a Shard, not some scraps at another’s table. Let us see if this Heir holds up to his bloodline, and then if he is not up to the measure, then and only then can we consider other options. Are we clear?”
He had trouble breathing, with her gauntlet grabbing his neck and freezing his blood. “Yes… Sister. Ice-crystal clear.”
She let him go, helping him up from the ground and dusting him off. In all, perhaps she was a little unfair to her little brother, overpowering and bullying him a bit. “Good. Now, if nothing else, you will definitely get your duel against the Heir, and so will I. And maybe he has some worthwhile subordinates to sate your curiosity. The mercenary said there were orcs and beastfolk there too, did they not? You know that they make good fighting and drinking partners, if nothing else.” She elbowed him, and waggled her brows. “And I heard there are some sort of nuns there, and they’re all pretty.”
Henrik snorted, a small smile touching his lips. “Yeah, that’s true. I suppose it might not be too bad. They’re also already fighting some kind of Dark Kingdom it sounded like, too, even if the recruiters all denied it.”
She nodded. “That’s right. And then–”
A voice interrupted them, and she realized that her fight with her brother had distracted her a little too much from her surroundings.
“Well, well, well, look what we have here. It looks like some noble children have some valuable toys, and heavy coin purses to boot! Hand them over quietly, or I’m afraid your mommy and daddy will be paying to get your bodily remains.”
Her jaw dropped–she was completely dumbstruck, as she looked at the bandit. He was still in the first stratum, and his equipment looked so terrible she wouldn’t even pick it up off the ground if it was laying there, free.
It was true that she and her brother should look about nineteen or twenty years old, but that’s the case for most reborn elites–that would change as she increased in stratum, and based on their desires.
And of course, Anja was pretty–objectively speaking. The Wraiths of Keltharis mixed vampiric and frost spirit heritage which led to elvish, beautiful feminine traits–her long white hair, hauntingly blue eyes and well-proportioned body led many a man to act foolish around her.
The bandits saw her and her brother fight, and thought they could win? Meanwhile, Henrik was grinning like an idiot again.
Anja narrowed her eyes on the bandit. “You…are you just really desperate, or some special kind of stupid?”
Now it was the bandit man’s turn to be dumbstruck. “What? No. How dare–”
Calling upon her magic, she drew and swung her Sageblade from her waist in one motion, and a cone of ice shards erupted from her swing. They impaled the man, his rant cut off as they cut deeply into his chest and began freezing him over, the man’s body toppling to the ground.
“In that case, on the behalf of the Wraiths of Keltharis, I condemn the bandits before me. You extorted us on the road, threatening death in broad daylight within lawful, civilized territory. Your sentence: Death by ice and blood. In your next life, strive to be better to your fellow man.”
The rest of the wraiths drew their swords of blood and ice, not having their own Sageblades. The bandits were numerous, but covered in frost and wielding blood, the wraiths cut through the superior numbers with ease. Anja slayed several bandits in quick succession, and absorbed the frozen, purified blood of her enemies through her Sageblade, using her Trait and empowering it.
Cultivating as she fought, from Orion’s Reward, she enjoyed the thrill of combat, a smile touching her lips as she slayed the last bandit in a hurry.
Henrik laughed. “And you berated me for wanting a fight. You enjoyed that more than any of us.”
“Yes, well… in life, one must endure the bad, and enjoy the good, is that not right? Besides.”
She reached out her hand to one of the frozen–over corpses, and drew up the cold and the blood. The corpse broke into numerous pieces, and began orbiting her. After a moment, the chunks became a white and red mist, then wrapped around her armor, which at this time was only a gauntlet.
Anja continued, “We are empowered by our enemies. At this moment, I feel practically naked. We’ll need to fight many more than just scrub bandits if I’m ever to complete my armor.”
The other Wraiths were doing the same in the background, absorbing the frost and the blood, the rest crumbling to the ground.
Henrik shrugged, and did the same to another, drawing icy blood into his shield instead. “Be that as it may, you didn’t have us join those mercenaries. There was a ship heading almost straight to Frosthaven. We could have been there in a month without issue. They’d have been happy to have us all join their mercenary caravan.”
Anja put her a hand on her hip. “Just what are you trying to say, Brother?”
“I think you wanted to hoof it because you wanted chances to explore, to adventure. Or maybe to find a Roaming Trial. You’re just as much a battle-junky as I am!”
In one quick motion, she drew a coin from her pouch at her waist and she flicked it at his face, smacking him right in the forehead.
Henrik rubbed his head. “Ah! Shit, what the hell was that for?”
“For once, your thoughts are worth a copper. You might be right, but it wouldn’t do for us to show up to our future liege empty-handed, now, would it? And if we enjoy ourselves while we’re at it… that’s not exactly a crime, now is it?”
Henrik’s face lit up. “Now we’re talking! Yeah, and we won’t be useful if we show up in the First Stratum, anyway. Let’s get moving now, we have essence to burn! Hey, I wonder if these scrubs have a hideout?”
He held up his Sageblade, the eye suddenly opening on the ornate hilt. It looked around, and was likely speaking with Henrik in his mind, casting several spells. “Found it! It’s that way,” he pointed with the blade. “If they have enough money, maybe we can get mounts…or maybe a vehicle!”
“Don’t look too excited, brother. It seems there are no motorized vehicles, and the tamers on this Shard are rather pathetic. It’s nothing but weak horses and lizards, or…” she shivered, “Farm animals.”
Henrik snorted. “Rather just run there, then. It’ll be faster.”
The Wraiths took off at a jog, and then began leaping through the forest. By enhancing their spirits and reducing their corporeality, their bodies became lighter. Their partially spirit bodies allowed them to float through the air and dash through the forest rapidly, their speed supernatural.
And they could unfreeze the blood that made up their armor, making it become liquid and lighter.
They had just begun traveling, but Henrik opened his mouth. Again. “Aw man, now my coin purse is all wet! Winter’s supposed to be coming, but it’s still hot out here. I sure hope it’s cold in this Frosthaven place. It’s gotta be, right? You wouldn’t call it something like that unless it was?”
She groaned. “For the love of Orion, could you shut up for a whole minute for once, Henrik? You just lost the copper you earned.”
Henrik side-eyed her, the group continuing their run, half-floating through the forest. “Well, if saying something smart earns me a hit in the face with a coin, then maybe I just won’t say anything smart–”
She flicked another coin and smacked his forehead, the man once again interrupted. Chuckling, she said, “Duly noted, Brother. From now on, say something stupid, like that, and a copper will be your reward. If it’s dumb enough, maybe a shard of ice, or a large rock just might be next.”
Henrik groaned, his expression indignant. “I’ll…keep my thoughts to myself for a bit.”
“Now you’re learning. If only you learned that sooner, House Bloodbayne might have accepted your courting proposal.”
Henrik nearly tripped, his eyes lighting up in recognition. “House… Wait, what? You talked to her… what did she say? She thought I talked too much, that’s why she said no? You never told me this!”
She groaned. “This is going to be a long trip North…”
***
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Nick woke up from his nap, and tried pushing his Soul Mending, the healing component, into his foot. Unfortunately, it looked like that particular spell, if it was capable of restoring a limb, would take him quite some time. He couldn’t really tell whether it was regrowing it or not. For a Soul Servant, there was no difficulty, but for a Follower or himself…
Creating his… peg, he created some ice to replace his foot. Testing it, it was terrible, he’d rather just hop on one foot like a weirdo. He tried a few other options, and what seemed to work the best was him taking out a new shoe from his pouch. He attached it with ice, but he also filled it with his essence as if he were attempting to absorb an attack…and with that, it was like he had a viable prosthetic, since it had a tiny bit of flex to it, but was still supportive.
Walking out of his tent, he found Myron and Shara sitting cross-legged in their own, the tent door wide open. While there were a few niceties in the tent like mats and short tables, many rocks and cavern debris were present within.
Shara smiled, and Myron nodded at him. He said, “Pardon the mess, Young Lord.”
Nick chuckled as he walked in. “No problem at all, we are in a cave, after all.”
Myron spotted his prosthetic. “Ah…interesting…choice…”
Nick was still walking around, testing it out. “Still trying it out. Unfortunately, I might have to wait until we get to Frosthaven to heal it. Even if my spell might be capable of it, it might take me too long.”
Myron nodded. “Your powers to heal are certainly strange. Unfortunately, limited to the first stratum like my healers are, I doubt they will be much better than that. However… I suppose…”
Shara scowled at Myron. “Father! Don’t be stingy. Nicholas is our people’s savior, and currently our lord. He received that wound in service to our people, surely there’s something in that pouch that might help his situation?”
Myron narrowed his eyes on his daughter. “Being stingy is why there’s anything in that damn pouch! If not for me, it’d be nothing but a pretty bag.”
Shara glared at her father at first, but then her eyes turned pleading and watery. She looked down on him, from where they were sitting, but she still gave her best puppy dog eyes and adorable pout.
This seemed to work much better on Myron, and he eventually groaned and reached into the bag. “Fine. It’s not… life-threatening, but perhaps I still have a… few pills left, that might aid you in this.”
Nick felt the partial truth there, and decided to point it out. “A few, you say?”
Myron shivered. “Er… a few dozen, perhaps. But they’re now irreplaceable!” He tossed Nick a pill, which he swallowed after taking off his ice and shoe prosthetic.
“Direct the healing energy to your foot.”
Nick did as directed, and the healing energy contained within the pill was immense. It felt a lot like Rebecca was healing him, his flesh being restored to its original state. Even after his foot was restored, the healing continued and brought it closer to its previous strength.
When the healing energy ran out, his foot was no longer a problem. With just a few meals of second stratum meat and maybe Birdy hunting some things, his foot would be restored in no time.
“Thanks for that, that helped a lot. I’m all good now.”
Shara gave him a wide smile. “Wonderful. Would you like tea, Lord Nicholas? Father?”
Myron nodded at his daughter with a smile, and Nick answered, “I’d like that, thanks.”
She got up, her body towering over them both. It was surprising just how tall she was, especially when Nick was now sitting. She then took out several items, placing them and sitting between Nick and Myron, before Nick realized she was going to prepare it in a traditional, Asian manner.
There was a stone container of water, a ladle, a sort of whisk, and a bowl. Taking out some tea leaves with a powerful, pleasant odor, she began her preparations.
It felt like a sort of ceremony, and Nick knew that one wasn’t really supposed to talk during this.
He waited patiently as she prepared the tea, her motions measured and practiced. Nick looked over her kimono, noticing that it had changed from her usual pink one. It was now a more golden one with purple and pink flowers, with a sash and elaborate tassels. Her pink hair was styled upward in layers with an elegant comb, and her slender neck was shown.
Her two Oni horns matched her purple flesh, and she had a tender look as she whisked the leaves and made the perfect consistency for the tea.
Eventually, she served the tea, and the two men took their first drink. It was filled to the brim with essence, and revitalized his body even further.
Shara smiled at him. “You looked like you wanted to say something?”
Nick scratched his neck. “I love the tea, by the way. I was just thinking that’s a pretty…is it a kimono, or what do your people call them? The pink one you wore in battle suited you, but I like how elaborate this one is, and how your hair is done up. You look great.”
Her smile was beaming. “It’s our cultural robes, and thank you! I’m pleased it’s had an impact on you.”
The quiet portion of the tea ceremony completed, Nick now spent more time enjoying it. Myron seemed a little too pleased about this interaction with his daughter, making Nick feel a little strange. Wasn’t he saying not to think about his daughter, unless he was this Fated thing he mentioned?
Myron broke the silence, after a pleased hum. “When you arrived, you were talking to that Elrash. It was mentioned you were assaulting Shadowvale. Does this… Orion, tell you about this? Are all of your compatriots okay?”
Nick nodded, “Yes, it did. I had to choose whether or not to merge its Ordeal into our city. It looks like my people were successful. Shadowvale is mine now, and it seems things went pretty well. We’ve captured most of the bad guys, and our people have gotten some excellent rewards. We had very few deaths of my Followers, and I’m pretty happy how everyone performed.”
Shara tilted her head, “You know how they performed? How do you know all that? Orion tells you all of that?”
“No, it mostly only told me the Kingdom Reward, which was a few buildings. Some Followers joined me in my Soul Core when they died, which is how I can revive them, so I knew about that. But I can see through the eyes of a few of my wives when I focus, and I can see their rewards from Orion too.”
Shara froze. “W-Wives? A… as in more than one…” She seemed to get a little dizzy, and leaned up against a rock next to her. Suddenly, her face twisted, and it looked like she had swallowed a bitter bug.
Nick nodded. “Yes. You see, I’m the last of my kind, and of my Noble Family. I need to raise numerous Heirs to give my people a chance at survival, and rebuild my Kingdom to its former glory. Because my race is also being hunted by some kind of crazy evil race.”
Myron had a thoughtful frown, but he remained quiet as he drank his tea and watched his daughter.
Shara eventually said, “I…see… So… just how many wives are there?”
“So far, you mean?” Nick had to think about his answer, his eyes gazing at the ceiling as he counted them. “Well, seven, I guess. But there’s probably a half-dozen or more waiting to join that number back at Frosthaven.” He chuckled. “Maybe more, already?”
Suddenly, Nick heard a shattering sound. Looking down, a shower of stone and dust seemed to be emanating from Shara’s position. Did…she just crush the boulder she was leaning on with her bare hand?
“What was that?”
Shara hesitated. “N–Nnn… A boulder broke. So anyway, that…seems like a lot.”
Nick’s eyebrows were at the top of his head–he was not about to force her to explain her action, and by the look on Myron’s bulging eyes, he wasn’t about to either.
He let out a breath. “Tell me about it. But they’re all really great, and they all get along. Before they became my wives, their expectations were set. Actually, it seems most of them would prefer it this way, and believe that having more partners makes me a… more desirable partner.”
He added, “Beastfolk and monsterfolk often have a pack or tribal mindset, and a Lord… anyway, I love them all, and I wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. Most of my wives are my partners. When I arrived on Orion, I was truly alone, no friends or family at all. I was saddled with the burden of having to revive an entire fallen kingdom and race, all by myself and without knowing anything about the world. My wives have helped build me up, but also my Kingdom to what it is today, with hundreds of followers and thousands of citizens.”
Shara frowned, her eyes searching the ground in front of her, her breaths getting heavier, before she let out a calming breath. “I see. That sounds… wonderful for you. Excuse me. I’m…gonna go for a walk.” She got up gracefully, and walked out of the tent, leaving Nick and Myron together with their tea.
“Huh… What’s up with her?”
Myron looked left and right, his face taking on a look of concentration. Nick got the feeling he was searching for the right words, as he drank his tea.
He set his tea down. “She… is not used to this world yet. She’s worried about the people, the customs. It seems the people of Orion are… perhaps a little different from what she expected. I would not worry about this, as she just needs some time to accept that things might be different than she originally pictured.”
Nick arched his brow at Myron. A lot of his words felt like partial truths, obscuring the real reason. There was clearly something up, and it likely had to do with this Fated thing, but he left it alone because he could feel the intentions of Myron were good. Also, Myron did believe the last part.
“Huh. Well, I already gave my promise, my Pact. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you and your people are welcome, Myron. That’s not to say it’ll all be sunshine and rainbows: the people of Frosthaven might have their own stigmas against Outlanders like yourselves, and of course, Blackthorne is after us. But there’s law and order within Frosthaven, and you will be treated like any other citizen of it.”
Myron smiled. “And I thank you for that in advance. Heavens know, that two Clans often have difficulty getting along.” He grinned. “I look forward to letting some other poor soul take the lead in managing that for once. So what’s the plan for you, and us, once we get back to Frosthaven? This Blackthorne…”
Nick sighed. “No rest for the wicked, huh? Well, I have a special resource that must be earned and claimed, the Frostspire Mines–but it’s full of ice demons. Supposedly, some are in the Third Stratum. Then, underneath Frosthaven, is a special place called The Barrows. I have several challenges to unlock benefits there, a Heritage left by my people. I’ve only recently gotten strong enough to face those challenges, so soon after I rejoin my wives, we’ll be looking to challenge them.”
Myron looked more than a little excited about this, the stars in his eyes lighting up. “An ancient Heritage? Please, tell me more about this.”
Nick chuckled at his excitement, and told him a little about the mall. How there were four separate wings with special challenges, that would likely unlock special resources or structures–just like what had already been unlocked.
“Fascinating. You must hurry, and claim your birthright! This is common among powerful cultivator clans. Your bloodline must truly be special.” Myron looked Nick over again from head to toe, and suddenly had a proud smile on his face.
“Why are you looking proud about this, old man? You’re acting weird.”
Myron coughed. “I… uh… Never mind this. Now, I can feel you are nearly on the cusp of Golden–the Third Stratum. But your Foundations are not quite at where they should be for a true elite, there is much you can do to prepare. You aren’t going to rush it to face this Blackthorne, are you?”
Nick shook his head. “Actually, I’m not all that worried about that guy any longer. We just gained a defensive building, and we’ll have another before he could conceivably arrive. As strong as he might be, he cannot deny geography or the need for numbers–an army. I plan on preparing my foundations for a few months, then I’ll enter the Ordeal in hopes of reaching the Third Stratum when I come out. We should have more than two or three months before he could possibly arrive there, and that’s if he left today.”
He added with a grin, “And it’s not just me that will get stronger. Our army is growing in both numbers and strength, and his people have only shrunk in numbers as we have won victories over him. I have mercenaries and freed monsterfolk slaves coming, your people, and more. I’ll get Silverbrook and maybe even other Kingdoms involved, and we’ll outclass his army in every way possible by then.”
Myron grinned, but he had a thoughtful frown on his face. “Your world is strange, that people cannot fly on implements. A few months, then? Good…good. That should hopefully be enough time for…” He coughed again, and got a weird look on his face. “Anyway, how is it that you ascend here on Orion?”
“For Ordeal Owners, we fight within the Ordeal and once we’ve completed the 20th Floor, it will grant resources tailored to us, provided the difficulty was enough–that we were properly Tested. Then we’ll use our Concept or Ascension Chamber, where we cultivate and ascend. That’ll be another thing I need to upgrade soon.”
Myron frowned. “Just what is an Ordeal, anyway? That’s the towers, right? While we learned a little from our…interrogations of the bandits, many of them had never actually been inside one. It felt a little complicated, for how people cultivated.”
Nick snorted. “How much time you got, buddy?” He let out an exaggerated breath. “Settle in, this is gonna take a while.”
He did his best to explain the logic of Orion, the Ordeals and their Tests, Trials, and Tribulations. Paths, Ordeal Owners, and more. He told him about a few of his adventures, giving examples of what it was like inside of them.
Myron had found it all fascinating, though it didn’t make him nearly as excited as his ‘ancient heritage.’
“Interesting, so it’s kind of like what we set up for our young ones. We often build pocket realms that include challenges, so that new cultivators can compete to earn these resources. After all, if you merely grant a novice everything they need to excel without conflict, they will simply become a greenhouse flower that wilts under any kind of adversity. But to think it’s on such a large scale, these Shards…and then Ordeals are tied to a Kingdom’s development. And these Paths…it almost sounds like your Fates are tied to your citizens…very peculiar… I wonder…”
The man froze at Nick’s gaze. Nick asked, “You wonder?”
Myron frowned in thought, and was seemingly searching for his words. “This… Pact is difficult to get used to. While I don’t want to lie to you, it still feels weird to even… lightly obscure something from you. I’m sorry, Young Lord. I made a promise to someone, and I intend to keep it. I’ll have to keep that particular thought to myself.”
Nick shrugged. “Fair enough, old man, anytime you aren’t comfortable answering my questions it won’t really bother me. How long before we hear from your scouts? My wives will likely be heading in from the other side in the next few days, so if there’s any danger, we should be able to wait for them to arrive with some of my forces, in order for us to receive some help.”
“That’s reassuring, and it shouldn’t be too much longer before we hear from the scouts, unless something has gone wrong. I just had a thought, however. Why do you think Blackthorne’s people were also given the path, the objective to flee through the cave in the mountains?”
Nick snorted–he had already thought about this exact detail. “Because if you lost, Thresh would have been able to attack Frosthaven through them, penalizing me for my failure if I just ran away when I lost. It increased my personal risk to the maximum. They could have taken a shortcut to Shadowvale if they wanted, too.”
Myron blanched. “Merciless heavens. Orion truly is cutthroat, isn’t it? It’s like it called you out here to a death trap, from what was a certain victory. You prevailed, but only barely.”
Nick grinned. “It is. But that’s why the rewards were as good as they were. And that’s why when I conquer the 20th Floor, I definitely won’t be far from challenging Blackthorne, that’s for sure.”
Myron grinned back, and looked a little proud with how he looked over Nick again. “Yes, that’s right. The fact that you wounded Thresh so, and delayed that Devilsaur at your realm of cultivation, your stratum, was quite impressive. Still, someone at the peak of the Third Stratum will be quite different from someone at the beginning of it. You would do well to improve your Foundations, maximizing all your methods to power before ascending.”
“Worry about yourself, old man. I’m going to need to give you and your wife, and all those in the Second Stratum or above, new bodies, then we’ll see if your people are as good as you think you are. I can’t wait to hear how you sweat your ass off in the sweltering jungle, or manage the many bugs and sandstorms in the hot and dry desert in the Path of Kings Ordeal.”
Myron chuckled, and gave him a proud smile. “Bring it on. My wife will crush this Lava Elemental with her tetsubo with ease, there’s not a single doubt in my mind about that.”
Nick couldn’t help but smirk at that. It was definitely true that the Star Oni women were something else. If she was a true elite, maybe it wouldn’t even be that challenging for them. At the same time, however, if they weren’t Tested, that means their rewards, their gains, would be less.
However, already having the mastery of the Dao, would quickly translate to having Concepts, much like Jasmine. Because it was already a part of their soul, it wouldn’t take long to be able to manifest it on Orion.
“Patriarch! We have news.” A man’s voice entered the tent, a little distressed. He rushed inside, carrying a scroll.
“What did you learn?” Myron asked.
The man spread out the scroll on Myron’s table, revealing an…empty scroll. The man then waved his hand, and it was like he spilled stardust on it. Within moments, the map transformed into a three-dimensional drawing.
He tapped his hand near the lower-left corner of the map. “We’re here, in the western portion. As you can see, the cave descends rather rapidly. However, after a dozen miles roughly, the cave opens up to an underground world. It’s quite expansive.”
Nick’s eyes widened with shock. The tunnel in the drawing expanded to the north and east, and it looked like an immense valley, one that rivaled the area of Shadowvale, potentially hundreds of miles across, if he was reading the map correctly. However, that wasn’t what made Nick alarmed. The formations drawn looked a lot like…
Myron pointed, “There’s a road here? Heading to this very cave, to the Southeast toward Frosthaven, and then into the North?”
“Yes, that’s right. Now, underground, and limited to the meridian cleansing…the First Stratum, that is… our connection to starlight is low. However… around this area, about two hundred or so miles to the North at the base of the valley, appeared to be the makings of some sort of city. And, at the center… a Tower.”
Nick was more than a little alarmed now. He asked, “What about the residents? What kind of people did you see?”
The man shook his head. “We could not see the city well at all, it was obscured by something, a strange mist or a fog–we could only barely make out the tower, and the structures underneath. We did not see any people underground, not even on the roads. Only monsters. As soon as we obtained this information, we fled to make our report. We wanted to get a better view, but weak as we are on this world, we knew this could be foolish.”
Myron nodded. “You did good. Excellent work.”
The scout eventually left after a few more answered questions, and Nick was left to stew on the issue. They had to cross through this underground world to get his new people to home as promised, but that was just the start of his concerns.
Based on the scout’s description, Nick was guessing that it was a Monster Kingdom. And, it was just as close to Frosthaven as Shadowvale was originally. From it, could be a opportunity for his people. Or perhaps, the greatest danger to his people and Kingdom yet.
END OF BOOK 3