I stood up my storage pouch hanging from my belt as I exited the dungeon. It was late in the day now and my escort led me to large hut. I entered and found my female vassals all inside.
“I was told this is where I was sleeping,” I said looking around at the one room building.
“They think we’re your women,” Katlyn said.
I wish, the voidling sighed.
“Ah,” I said understanding. “I’ll go clear up the misunderstanding then.”
Syvia put a hand on me. “Its best you don’t my lord,” she said nervously. “It is expected for the Warlord to take many wives, they wouldn’t understand you and might think less of you if you told them about your stance on women.”
“I’m not gay,” I told her flatly.
Could have fooled me, the voidling commented.
“But fine, if it will help ease relations with the locals I can play along with your customs.” I continued ignoring the voidling’s comment. “I’ll sleep on the floor you three can take the bed.”
Syvia and Kathleen looked at eachother.
“I don’t want any fighting between the two of you,” I said stopping them before they could get started.
They glared at me then looked away to glare at eachother instead.
You could really sell this ruse a lot better if you would just fuck one of them! The voidling whined. I can taste the lust on them, you wouldn’t even have to use your Dominion on them to make them do it.
I pushed the voidling’s voice from my mind blotting out her commentary as I focused on my anger like I had done before gaining Wrathful Meditation.
I set out my armor, and all the stones I had been collecting on our way here. I had around two-thousand pounds of stone that were condensed down to a two-foot cube of space with around 50 orbs of condensed uncommon stone. Kathleen and Syvia sat at opposite ends of the bed with Katlyn in between them.
“No one told me the boss had an ability that let them bypass armor,” I said to Syvia striking up a conversation to ease the tension in the room.
“Dungeon bosses are never the same,” Syvia said shaking her head. “Their abilities change for each group that challenges them.”
“That’s strange,” I said. “Where do Dungeons come from exactly? I know the system runs them but how are they made?”
“The system makes them with excess rank points,” Kathleen said.
“Excess rank points?” I asked.
“You only get half rank points when you kill a Gifted,” Syvia explained actually working with Kathleen for this lesson. “The other half go to the system which uses it to create random gifted beasts and monsters and to create and to power and create dungeons.”
“Why?” I asked. “What purpose does that serve?”
They both shrugged. “It’s just how they system works, part of the deal the gods made.”
“Back to the subject of the boss, it was able to just rip through my skin no problem like it wasn’t even there,” I said getting the conversation back on track. “How common is that?”
“Many martial gifted have similar abilities each with different limitations,” Katlyn said. “My brothers Jeriah and Tobias, both earned them in combat, but father never got one.”
“So, wearing armor would actually just be weighing me down,” I said.
“Pretty much,” agreed Syvia.
“Not at all,” Kathleen said.
The two went back to glaring at eachother.
“Both of you explain,” I said.
“Unless enchanted with other effects wearing armor is for the most part restrictive and unnecessary,” Syvia said. “Once you raise your Toughness abilities far enough it will be like your skin is plate armor without any extra encumbrance or resistance.”
“Not necessarily,” Kathleen interjected. “Relying only on abilities instead of gear can get just as easily get you killed. Consider Jeriah, he wears armor and isn’t significantly hampered by it. Even if you might face those with abilities to bypass armor deciding not to wear it all is a drastic measure of madman.”
“Your people treat armor like your castles,” Syvia said standing up. “Hiding behind them instead of fighting honorably.”
“Well at least we build something instead of only destroying everything we come across and living in the woods like animals!” Kathleen shouted.
“Ok the two of you sit down again,” I ordered them. “Katlyn your family all wear armor what your thoughts on the matter are?”
Katlyn looked nervous as she sat between the two fuming women. “Well… all my family are focused on their physical attributes; our family’s ability raises every physical stat; you are focusing on your mental attributes so you can’t wear as heavy as armor as my brothers. Abilities that bypass armor usually have a certain thickness they can’t go through or a density they can’t bypass.”
“So, your saying I would need to wear even heavier armor to avoid abilities like that?” I asked not liking the sound of that at all.
“Yes,” Katlyn said. “Although you could go the middle route. Those pauldrons of yours for instance they protect your shoulders, collarbone and the base of your neck but it leaves your torso flexible but exposed. You could keep going like that; wear a few pieces of heavy armor and keep the rest of your body free for less weight and prevent restrictive movement, it isn’t unheard of for those who split their attention between mental and physical abilities.”
“Like Ares?” I asked.
“You know of Ares?” Syvia asked surprised.
“These are his pauldrons, who exactly was he, I recognize the name it’s from my world.
“He was a champion of Kelesa,” Syvia said.
“Was he from Earth?” I asked.
“Is that the name of your world?” Kathleen asked. “I think I’ve heard of it before.”
“I don’t know where Ares was from,” Syvia said. “I only know a little about him from our legends. Is Ares a common name where you’re from?”
“No, it is the name of the Greek god of war,” I said.
“You have other gods in your world?” Katlyn asked.
“That’s a difficult question, if we do have gods they don’t interact with us like they do here,” I said shrugging.
Syvia went over to a bookshelf in the room, one of the few pieces of furniture and grabbed a massive tome and hefted it onto the bed. The cover was thick and heavy covered with scaly leather binding and its edges trimmed with bronze. She leafed through its pages before stopping on page where an illustrator had depicted a man standing over a pile of corpses. He wielded a spear and shield, he had a helmet on that reminded me of Sauron, his chest armor consisted only of a pair of pauldrons that extended along the collar bone before meeting the gorget. He had some armor made of plate and chainmail around his waist and thighs with fur padding, and a pair of vambraces that ended at the forearm and extended up the forearm with chainmail. Before securing to his bicep with a leather strap.
The armor was a glossy black, its edges trimmed with gold with red glowing runes inscribed into the gold, golden spikes jutted out from the armor giving it a savage barbaric appearance. The pauldron’s looked similar to mine but the artist had either been drawing from memory or description because there were several differences in their actual appearance.
“That certainly isn’t very much armor,” I said looking over my distant predecessor. “How close did he come to winning?”
“Ares was one of the most bloodthirsty and savage of all Kelesa’s champions,” Kathleen said looking at the image with some disgust. “His armor was earned with the blood of nations; each piece is a rank IV artifact.”
“Where are the other pieces of the set?” I asked.
“I heard that the Dragon Clan actually had the helm once,” Syvia said. “But that is just a legend as far as I know.”
“The Pteruges are said to be held in the treasury of Dracon,” Kathleen said. “I don’t know what happened to the Manica.”
“Well at least that’s a lead on two of the pieces,” I mused.
“I believe the Lion Clan have the Manica of Ares,” Syvia said. “Originally the Myrmidons had all the pieces of the set but we have been scattered and decimated over the centuries and pieces were lost or taken from us.”
“Where is the Lion Clan?” I asked.
“They used to roam the moors northeast of the Ancient Forest,” Syvia said. “But we haven’t had contact with them for generations.”
“Alright, well I’m ready for bed. Don’t fight or disturb me unless there is an emergency,” I said.
I lay down adjusting my cloak to form a pillow and lay down. My immunity to exposure made it so my body held a constant body temperature, so I didn’t need a blanket and my body was comfortable even on the rough ground.
--
I stood in a storm lightning flashing all around me. A shadow darkened the ground around me and I looked up. I couldn’t see it clearly, but the outline of a massive bird could be seen through the mist and clouds illuminated by the flashes of electricity.
A shriek pierced the air and the rocks around me shattered as lightning flew down from the birds talons. I was flung into the air and rose into the air as I was taken off my feet. I soared off a cliff and was falling. Down and down, I went breaking through the layer of clouds and falling towards the forest trees below me. The moment before impact my vison ended.
I jerked awake my hearts hammering from the shock of the fall in my dream.
Your fear is tasty, but this is getting a bit old, the voidling sighed and I growled in irritation at her voice.
I lay back down a cold sweat breaking out over my body my two hearts quicky adjusting to the change and my pulse slowing. I strapped my armor back my new cloak fastening over my pauldrons.
I left the tent letting the girls sleep. The camp was already awake with people moving around, running errands, or setting up stalls for a market. That surprised me, I hadn’t expected this to be the kind of society with lots of trade and figured that everyone was just hunter gatherers and each completely self-sufficient.
I found a blacksmith working at workbench chiseling a rune into a spearhead. I watched him for a while before he looked up.
“Can I help you Warlord?” he asked. He didn’t seem annoyed exactly, but he also didn’t appear to like being watched while he worked.
“Are you enchanting a weapon?” I asked.
“Yes,” the smith answered. “One of the chief’s elite warriors commissioned me to enchant him a spear to inflict a weakening effect on a hit. Do you require me to make you something?”
“Not exactly,” I said and reached into my storage pouch pulling out my sketchbook. “I’ve been studying runes for a little while and am interested in learning how enchanting works. Can you teach me?”
“I suppose but I don’t have very many components to waste on teaching a novice,” the smith warned. “No offense, Warlord.”
“Call me Mordred,” I said extending my hand.
“I am Elgen,” the smith said shaking my hand. “When do you want to get started?”
“Now works for me,” I said.
I spent the next eight hours with Elgen showing him all the runes I had copied he was able to identify about a third of them and I wrote down their meaning and he showed me about two dozen more. Next, he went into great detail describing how to grind down gemstones and mix them with water and infuse it with mana. He even showed me a spell for locating gemstones and raw ore in the earth around me as well as a spell for starting small fires. Neither could be used in combat, but they were useful utility spells that could help me find materials and survive in the wild.
We stopped for lunch before he went back to his work while I observed the carving process and how he brushed the runes with the gemstone ink and then wiped off the excess. He gave me a few low-quality gemstones and mortar and pedestal made from metal. I ground the gemstones easily with my might attribute and mixed them with water.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Next, I had to infuse the mixture with mana. This was the hardest part, I felt ridiculous holding my hand out over the pot of gemstone powder mixed with water, but I kept at it. I felt for the feeling of casting a spell or using an ability and tried to latch onto it. Every time I felt I and hold of it, it would break free. I tried over and over until at last I felt mana pour out and the gemstone dust lit with light.
I was given a crude iron spearhead and a set of chisels and hammer. I turned down the tools and used compress earth and drew the runes into the metal with my ability, my ability was far more precise and detailed than tools would be. I created an almost exact copy of the rune I had been shown. I brushed the ink I had made into the rune and took a rag wiping it over the spearhead picking up any ink that had spread outside the etching. I once more held my hand over the spearhead and let more mana out, I felt my mana dip. I always went by feel but I wanted to see how much mana I was using.
“System do I have a mana and stamina bar?” I asked.
Do you wish to turn on the HUD for your abilities and resources?
Yes or No.
“Umm, yes,” I said.
A blue and orange bar appeared in the right-hand corner of my vison. The silhouette of a person appeared in the left-hand corner appearing green in appearance with a white outline around it. A compass appeared at the top of the screen with a clock as well. I wasn’t sure if this was the default for everyone or the system just configured my HUD to be familiar to me, but it was exactly like a video game interface.
Looking at the mana bar I could see it was missing almost two thirds but was steadily rising, apparently the enchantment had taken nearly all of my mana to complete.
I held up the spearhead looking at the crude iron and the three runes linked together that would increase bleeding from wounds.
Spearhead of Bleeding (Inferior): A crude iron spearhead enchanted to deal a minor amount of additional bleed damage on a hit. Hardness: 6.
A poor-quality soft-iron spearhead enchanted by a novice enchanter.
Durability:
3 of 3.
I looked over my work critically and knew I could do better. I used compress earth on an enchanted item. I felt resistance from the item like when I had worked on repairing/upgrading my gauntlets. I forced the iron to comply and compressed the soft metal lengthening the spearhead until it was as long as my forearm and as wide as my thumb no thicker than cardstock with serrated edges. I examined the spearhead again to see what changes had been made to it.
Spearhead of Bleeding (common): A compressed iron spearhead with serrated edges and enchanted to deal a minor amount of additional bleed damage on a hit. Hardness: 14.
A high-quality iron spearhead enchanted by a novice enchanter. Can only be damaged by weapons or objects with a hardness greater than 14.
Durability:
15 of 15.
I had increased the quality of the crappy spearhead, but it hadn’t done anything about the quality of the enchantment. Elgen came over and picked up my work, he raised an eyebrow as he examined it closely.
“That’s an impressive ability you got there,” he said turning the spearhead over.
“But my enchantment is still shit,” I sighed.
“Of course, it is,” Elgen laughed. “Enchanting isn’t an ability you can put rank points into and suddenly get good at it. It’s an art you have to devote yourself too, you’ve done remarkably well for your first try. There are many warriors in the clan who would be happy to use this spearhead even with its subpar enchantment due to just how indestructible you’ve made it. I don’t even know if it can take durability damage with a hardness score that high.”
“There’s probably an ability that can do it,” I said. “I’ve been learning that there are counters to pretty much every ability lately.”
“That’s why you should rely on yourself and not on your abilities,” Elgen advised me. “Skill with your weapons and fighting style will always win in the end.”
“I don’t really have a fighting style,” I admitted. “I’ve just been fighting my whole life.”
“That’s what makes a warrior,” Elgen said going back to his work. “If you want to work on your fighting prowess you should try the training grounds.”
I took his advice and found a clearing. Men sparred in pairs and in groups while young boys were drilled by instructors. I looked over the clearing and watched everyone for a while, eventually a tall older man approached me.
“Can I help you Warlord?” he asked.
“I am looking for some help in developing my fighting style,” I said.
“What’s your prior training?” the man asked crossing his arms.
“I was only ever really trained with bare handed fighting,” I explained. “My experience with weapons is limited to what I’ve had to done to survive.”
“That’s sometimes the best teacher,” the man grunted. “Like tossing a boy into a river to help him learn how to swim.”
“So how would you train me?” I asked.
“First I need to see what I’m working with,” the man said. He whistled and a group of men stopped their sparring and came over.”
“The Warlord wishes to be tested by us;” he said to them.
I don’t remember telling anyone that, but I kept quiet.
“I want you to fight him all at once, you only go down when your either unconscious or give up, no abilities either,” he continued giving everyone including me a strong look.
The ten men fanned out forming a half-circle around me. I was given a training sword and a round shield, and they took other similar blunt training weapons. Everyone in the training grounds stopped and gathered around and more people began arriving to watch our fight.
“On the count of three,” my new instructor said. “One…two….three.”
The men hurtled forwards two of them split from each of the edges to move around to flank me. While he has said no abilities there were abilities like my Foresight that were simply always active. I stepped forward as a strike slipped past my back. I knocked aside the next strike with my shield stepped into his guard and drove the heavy wooden training sword up into his gut spinning around to use his body as a human shield. I grabbed his arm and pushed him forward into his allies pulling back to avoid tangling with him and the others.
I foresaw two blades striking me in the back and spun my shield behind me the weapons bouncing off as I stepped forward my sword a blur as I brought it down cracking a man’s collar bone then brought my knee down as he bent over with pain my kneed catching him in the chest knocking his up into the air with the force of the strike.
I ducked and a sword parted my hair as I kicked out behind me catching my attacker in the stomach and sending him flying back. I dropped to the ground and rolled as three spears lanced out. I came up in a crouch my practice sword swiping across the back of a man legs, and he fell over rolling back to his own feet but with a limp to his step.
My opponents circled me again and I took the roll of the aggressor. I struck forward hard and fast over and over. I took the retaliatory strikes on my armor and shield feeling the wood in my hand cracking and the reverberations through my armor and the bruises begin to form. I didn’t stop my assault my sword cracking then breaking as I hammered down again and again on my opponent’s shields. Two of the shields in front of me shattered just as my sword broke. I held a jagged wooden dagger and tossed it aside clenching my fist and punching forward catching one of the men across the jaw. I grabbed my shield in both hands blocking a strike then slamming it down over another man’s head sending him to the ground in a heap. Blows rained down on my head and shoulders and I spun catching a spear shaft in one hand yanking its wielder forward into my fist catching him in the throat. A wooden sword caught me between the gap in my breastplate and helmet and my vision swam with pain and I staggered but caught myself.
I kicked out and sent the man in front of me sprawling in the dirt. I brought my foot down but he raised his hands in surrender and rolled away joining the ring of spectators. I turned to my six remaining opponents panting as my stamina drained, I stepped forward meeting their attacks blocking with my forearms and legs now my old martial arts training kicking in. I punched and kicked feeling the bones in my bare hands crack without my gauntlets to protect them. My vision went black and red, and I kept fighting refusing to give into the pain and fatigue as my mana and stamina bottomed out.
When I finally came too, I was being pulled off of my last opponent my hands bloody. My face was bruised, and blood trickled down my face. The bruises were quickly fading but I had several cracked and broken rips and bone fractures in all four of my limbs. I could feel my regeneration slowly at work but a fight between a group of Gifted would take several hours to recover from.
That was delicious, I don’t know how you do it but every time you take my breath away, the voidling sighed contentedly.
“Well done lad,” the man who had orchestrated the entire fight said clapping me on the back. “You may lack skill with the blade but your refusal to give up is extraordinary. I’ve never seen a man, even in armor, take so many blows. You didn’t even call for another weapon when yours broke even though we would have given ya one.”
“I didn’t know that was an option,” I said taking a rag someone handed me and washing the blood off my face and hands.
The man laughed clapping me on the back again. “I’m Heldrad Blood-fur,” he introduced himself.
“You people all have such interesting last names,” I said taking a drink from a canteen I was handed.
“Last name?” Heldrad asked. “Ah you mean my family title, no that’s just something the system awards you or your ancestors and is passed on, you can choose to carry it or not, but it provides certain benefits.”
“What do you have to do to get one?” I asked.
“No one knows, the system just offers you them sometimes its different for every person I’ve ever met,” Heldrad said. “Listen, I’d be happy to give you some training to hone your fighting, you’ve got fury and some raw skill but your no veteran yet.”
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here,” I said. “But I’ll come here every day to practice.” I held out my hand to shake.
I can train you from midday to three hours before sunset,” he said shaking my hand.
At least I’ll get one good meal a day, the voidling said before I once more began focusing on blocking out her voice.
I took a walk outside the clan’s camp. They had set up their camp at the foot of a mountain a clean flowing stream running down to join the nearby river. I hiked up the mountain using my new spell for detecting metals and gemstones. Compress Earth informed me when a stone was considered uncommon or rare, but it didn’t let me sense them. I had to make contact with the stone first. Fortunately, the system considered me grabbing something with my telekinesis as making contact but that still limited me to what I could see.
The spell drew me too a section of the mountain and I began to compress the earth creating a shaft into the ground as I made my way towards the source of metal and clump of precious stones. I had to go down at least seventy feet before I encountered the vein of metal. It wasn’t iron and I couldn’t identify it as any metal I was familiar with but maybe that was because it was in ore form rather than smelted; it could also be because it was some type of metal not native to Earth.
I compressed the ore and was able to separate it from the common igneous rock. I moved along the ore vein gather all the ore and putting it in my storage pouch. It barely took up any space and since the item only had a limit on volume and not weight, I could hold an almost unlimited amount of materials.
I found a pocket of raw uncut emeralds almost two pounds of the stuff. I already had a bunch of precious stones thanks to the chest Jeriah had given me. I could use them in either in creating weapons or enchantments. They didn’t really have any added benefit for weapons other than maybe aesthetics so I would use them for enchantments.
I returned back to camp as the sun was setting. I met Jeriah and his sister and gave them their new orders.
“I want you to take Kathleen, Syvia and your sister back to our base,” I said. “I’m going to stay here for a while to improve relations with the clan and to help them fight the Dragon Clan. When you get back you should take turns with your brothers running the dungeon. Try not to antagonize the spiders I place there.”
“Are you sure you’ll be fine here by yourself?” Katlyn asked.
“I’ve got it,” I said.
“Would you mind if I sent word that we are recruiting?” Jeriah asked.
“Sure, go ahead but let them all know they’ll have to accept my Dominion,” I told him.
“We’ll leave tomorrow morning,” Jeriah said.
I washed in the river getting the blood and sweat from today’s fighting off and changing into fresh clothes. My perception picked up on the sounds of giggling and I spotted a group of young women upstream pretending to be washing clothes and instead watching me. I ignored them and returned to the tent I was given and went to sleep.
---
Guinevere pulled her horse to a stop signaling for those behind her to stop. They had been on the trail of the Warlord for two days but had some delays due to ambushes and attacks by monsters. Everyone was tired but they were close now. The trail had led them along the river but now they had reached an obstacle. A fortress with a walled town around it, the walls were high with a massive trench around them the area around the walls cut for several hundred yards providing clear line of sight for those on duty.
“We’ve got a problem,” Guinevere said. “Mira would I be correct in assuming that the tracks we’ve been following lead into that town?”
Mira bent examining the ground then stood nodding her head. “The army we’ve been tracking did camp outside these walls, but I can also see a large number of tracks from the giant lizards heading east into the forest.”
“Is there any way to tell if the Warlord went with them?” Chritor asked.
“I can’t even tell which tracks are his,” Mira said. “And I’m not even sure what creatures all these tracks belong too.”
“So we don’t know where the Warlord is?” Jamis asked.
“Looks that way,” Felrick said. “Helen, try and use the tracking stone to see where Kathleen is, if the Warlord has her it might lead us to him.”
Helen knelt in prayer holding a stone amulet as her lips moved wordlessly. She stood when she was done looking confused. “She’s about two days northeast of her, is that the way the other tracks went?”
“No,” Mira said. “These ones have a more southeast heading.”
“Well, that doesn’t help us much,” Guinevere sighed. “So, the Warlord could have gone southeast, northeast or be in that town right there.”
“I don’t recall their being a town in the Cursed Forest,” Torvin said. “I thought you said this was all wilderness.”
“There is only one outpost of something that even approaches civilization,” Helen said distastefully. “The fort of the Bandit King, he’s an outcast noble from Dracon and has been here for close to twenty-five years now.”
“Could the Warlord have killed or Dominated him?” Felecia asked.
“Not likely,” Helen said. “The Bandit King is close to Hero rank if rumors are to be believed and all his sons are in Veteran rank.”
Guinevere rode forward on her horse. “Then we should see whose home and ask if they know where the Warlord is.”
The other champions hurried to catch up with Guinevere as she rode up to the gate. Guards on the wall shouted and soon a massive, armored figure moved into view.
“What do you want?” the man called out.
“We wish to speak with whoever is charge,” Helen said coming up alongside Guinevere.
“And who are you?” the man asked.
“I am Princess Helen of Lunara and champion of Luren, goddess of the Moon and Healing,” Helen said. “This is Lady Guinevere of Camelot, and my other companions are all other champions of the gods. Who are you?”
“I am lord of these lands,” the man said his voice cold as steel. “Leave champions you are not welcome here.”
Guinevere narrowed her gaze focusing on the man.
Mordred, Champion of Kelesa; Gifted- humanoid/human, Veteran, Rank 230
“It appears we found the Warlord,” Guinevere said.
Mira acted instantly snapping up her bow. “Arrow of Judgement,” she said releasing the string.
Even before the arrow was loosed the man reacted spinning to the side his hand going up and catching the arrow by its shaft. It shattered in his grip, but the man’s armor protected him. As if a signal had gone off men appeared from under the ramparts bows in hand as they loosed on the champions gathered only a hundred feet from the gate. Guinevere twisted in her saddle her sword flashing out deflecting a dozen arrows as she moved in fluid grace. Jamis and Helen mount’s died under them. Jamis roared transforming into a massive bear as he began charging towards the gate.
“Stop you fool!” Guinevere ordered her voice piercing through the air. “Retreat back into the forest.”
Guinevere grabbed Helen pulling her into the saddle and rode back the others following her dodging arrows although a few found flesh in either the riders or hoses but on one else went down. Jamis resembled a porcupine his massive bear form apparently an easy target to hit. Helen pulled out the arrows and her glowing hand closed the wounds.
“How did he move so fast?” Mira asked.
“He’s almost twice your rank,” Guinevere scolded her. “Although I will admit his reaction time was incredible, it was like he knew what would happen before it did.”
“What do we do now?” Felrick asked as he helped pull an arrow out of Chritor’s back so Helen could heal it.
“Now we plan,” Guinevere said. “We know where the Warlord is now, and we’ve all got a decent look at him. His helmet blocked his facial features, but we at least know who we’re fighting this time.”
“He looked bigger than when I last saw him,” Felecia said.
“Going up in attribute can do that to a body,” Guinevere said. “I’ve heard its especially common in those from outside our world.”
“It’s true,” Jamis agreed. “I’ve put on nearly a hundred pound in muscle since coming here and grown over a foot in height.”
“We put up scouts to see prevent the Warlord from slipping away and we prepare to attack on our terms,” Guinevere said. “Everyone set up camp, secure the perimeter and get some rest. We need to recover from out forced march. After that everyone bring all your best ideas together and lets storm that fortress.”