Bron Del quickly checked his communication block before he stepped through the transit gate, only to see his request had been rejected. This had become expected, and as much as it infuriated him, he had more important things to worry himself with.
He stepped through, using his private location designator, and stepped through. “Mother, Father. It is quite nice to see you both.”
“Oh, little Bronny. Don’t be so cold to your momma.” Mother pulled him into a warm hug, while Father patted him on the shoulder. “We’ve missed you. We’ve been tracking your rankings.”
Instinctively, he tensed and averted his gaze.
“You’re doing so much to make us proud, son.” Father nodded proudly. “You’ve done swell for our family’s reputation and honor. Perhaps this time next year, you’ll break into the top two thousand and elevate us to greater heights once again.”
Bron Del nodded. “I’ve been doing everything I can for our family.”
“Are the shard farms sustaining production? A lot went into ensuring the Expanionsists didn’t ask questions. For all we’ve invested, surely you’re being responsible with your duties, though I couldn’t help notice that last quarter's yields were the same as before.” Father’s steeliness wasn’t lost on Bron, and all he could do was nod. “Get those numbers up, son, or your mother and I may consider trying for a second child.”
“Of course.” Bron wanted to extoll the amount of red tape he had to jump through just to maintain the operations he had going now, let alone expansion. But Father would hear of no such excuses, while still expecting Bron to pursue his own tower climbing expeditions, meritocratic behavior, and somehow gain even greater influence, without exposing their less than legal pursuits. “I’ll see to it that I do better, Father.”
“See that you do.”
Mother smiled and nodded in agreement with Father, giving him her silent support. Bron couldn’t help but consider the past quarter and tried to search for time, any moment anywhere, in which he hadn’t tried to capitalize on every opportunity, every second, maximizing everything to peak efficiency without compromising everything they’d worked so hard for.
He couldn’t find a single moment he hadn’t spent furiously grinding his card mastery, dodging inquisition, shoring up leaks, managing over the table finances, involved himself actively in recruitment operations, and anything else he could think of to possibly benefit House Del.
“I’ll do better,” he promised again, more to himself than them. There had to be a way. He just had to consider the angles of approach, consider the areas his caution was overblown. There had to be a way he could push the Del House’s reputation even higher, maybe then he’d be enough. “I’ll do better…”
“Yes, yes. Now, tell me about the ritual refinement. The current costs for harvesting prospects hasn’t changed in the last two quarters. While the current rate is impressive, surely we can find a way to do better. And after, we’ll talk about a new avenue of approach you will consider going forward.” Father finally began to lead Bron inside, continuing to speak of further responsibilities Bron needed to concern himself with.
“We just want the best for our family, you see,” Mother added in a moment of reprieve.
“I understand, Mother. I must do better for our family…”
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The biggest problem with trying to find the foreign prince was that he’d only been passing through the lower levels. By now, he could be anywhere in the tower, and Zibo had no way of hunting him down short of going through each and every one of them.
Ordinarily, this would fill him with absolute panic. Now, though, with his new deck humming in his soul, he couldn’t help but want to see how far he could go.
He knew that he shouldn’t waste time, of course. He needed to hunt down the merchant prince as fast as possible. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure if he could survive the higher floors as he was now. If he rushed through things too quickly, he might end up in a situation beyond what he could handle.
He’d upgraded his heart card, but his class was still lower ranked. After being stuck at base level for so long, his empty deck burning off any experience he gained almost as fast as he got it, he’d given up on even considering ranking up his class. Now, though, he didn’t have to stay at level 2. Even just clearing the four floors he’d done the previous week had brought him up to level 8, and that was just the beginning.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
He could already feel the potential. For a long time, there’d been a certain sense of limitation. A distant destination to be sure, but one which he’d not be able to move beyond. Now, that destination was much, much further away.
He’d never been so empowered, so complete before now. Remedy was so much more powerful than he’d expected, providing the basic survival benefits of Refreshment as well as an active healing mode that could be toggled on or off at will. It drained the card’s reserves, which was another mechanic change from a simple cooldown, but the Uncommon refilled fully in two hours. The usable version used half its energy, while the ongoing one could run for about five minutes before running out. That wasn’t enough to fully heal a major injury, but it was more than enough to deal with minor cuts and bruises.
Even that alone would make him a valued contributor to any party, but now he didn’t need to rely on others to protect him while he held back to keep himself from danger. Retaliate synergized perfectly with his shield and spear, allowing him to strike back whenever anything struck at him. Forcebolt gave him a ranged option, one which synchronized with his class to increase its casting speed, and Drain allowed him to weaken hostile magical effects.
He wouldn’t go so far as to consider himself a one-man army, but he was far from helpless on his own.
It was a heady feeling, capability. He just hoped there was a way to give his sister the same freedom and empowerment that he’d found.
The first several floors were easy. He’d already cleared them in the past, and they were barely able to challenge him any more. The first lobby was full of plenty of witnesses to the strange prince’s presence—he’d come through with someone else, perhaps his daughter or sister, younger and much weaker, then disappeared after running her through a few floors.
He’d seen the woman hanging around the prince, now he thought back. At the time he’d been so overwhelmed by the offer that he didn’t pay attention to who she was, but this new information made everything much clearer.
It wasn’t good news. If the prince was only down here to play escort, then he’d probably returned to somewhere fully beyond Zibo’s reach by now.
But it did give him another potential contact point. If he could find the other, he might not need to climb beyond his capabilities after all.
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Haldred hadn’t been kidding when he told James the Destruction faction wasn’t exclusively made of elves. In fact, elves were by far the minority. Rather, everywhere James looked, he saw one variation or another of animal ears and tails. Whether they be furry, aquatic, or other, he quickly adapted.
“Are you sure I can’t pet your tail? But it looks so soft.” Okay, maybe he hadn’t adapted as well as he’d like to think, but seriously, why did every one of the furred beastkin look like they had some crazy soft hair care routine.
And why were they so stingy about letting him pet them?
“Ahem.” Haldred glared at James.
“Got something in your throat?” James asked as he tried to subtly reach for an unsuspecting bunnykin’s tail.
Haldred grabbed James’s wrist, none too gently. “Seriously, quit. Have some professionalism.”
“If you expected professionalism from me, you picked the wrong person. Unless you want to make a deal?” Grinning, James shrugged as Haldred shook his head. “Then you get what you get, and what you get is someone who quite appreciates fluffy tails and soft ears.”
“Degenerate,” James heard a mousy voice mutter from not too far. He looked around but couldn’t find the culprit.
“I resent that,” he grumbled, eyes keen on searching for another unsuspecting fluffkin for him to appreciate. “Do any of you even know what fun is?”
“What you’re doing is an invasion of personal space, not fun,” Haldred grunted, muttering some incoherent swear.
“It could be with a little open-mindedness, you know. But I understand, I’ll only pet the ones that agree.” He immediately started looking around for anybody that looked particularly interested in them and found the area all but deserted. “Huh, when did that happen?”
Before he could go hunting for a new friend, he felt a strange tingle in the back of his head that traveled down to his chest and burned painfully there.
[Urgent message, Co-Owner Ivy has left my current range of perception. She is no longer in the tower or within the Euriste system.]
All mirth left James. “Say, theoretically, if someone wanted to know where new Ascenders are being trained to pilot a power suit, where would they need to go?”
Whether it be the blank look on James’s face, the sudden switch up in demeanor, or the toneless hostility barely contained in each biting word, Haldred regarded James with utmost seriousness. “We have an extensive information archive that should have all training compounds for both the Ascensionists and Expansionists. R-right this way.”
Whatever Haldred, his cause, and the faction as a whole wanted from James would have to wait. Or maybe they wouldn’t, because James felt the need to break a few things. If the tower got caught in the process, they likely wouldn’t complain much.
“Let’s move a little faster.”
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