Alliana refused to be drawn further, claiming that this was all she knew about Hidden Moon Mountain that wasn’t immediately obvious. She packed up and headed out shortly afterward too. Which was irritating. There was a lot I still wanted to ask her. I had to let it slide. I could see some internal switch had been thrown, and now she had to go. Off to the next place.

“A potential ally?” Versai asked.

“Mmm. Stand where she stood.” I pointed to a spot in front of my throne.

“Alright?”

“What do you see?”

“You? Your throne? The row of perfect victory awards, the notice board, a bit of wood, the table with the Council Bell…” She shrugged.

“Yeah, you saw it but I guess your culture is different enough not to recognize what you are seeing. Frankly, it might just be a coincidence. But I’ve known people like her before. I’m not going to bet on coincidence.”

“What did I miss?”

“Remember her sob story about how she became a bandit?”

“Yes? It all sounded plausible to me.”

“Me too. Stock, even.”

“Stock?” Versai tilted her head to one side. Her hair spilled like sunlight spun into gold and honey across a perfect shoulder. Been a while since I noticed it did that. Could I be building up a resistance to the Pretty Person Halo? Well, it was either that or depression and trauma. Fingers crossed for resistance.

“A standard story. Generic. Something that just “fit” without needing too much elaboration. A random farmer’s daughter goes on to be lord of a hundred mountains with thousands of underlings, then gets laterally transferred to the job of multiversal clothing merchant?” It was my turn to shrug. “Sure. That makes perfect sense and I have no further questions.”

“Mmm. Stranger things have happened, though. And are happening.” Versai casually waved at the entire world. “It could be true.”

“Yep. Could be. I really don’t know. But what I do know is that there are a lot of cultures that carve funeral markers of one kind or another, and that bit of wood is one.”

Versai paused. “Kim?”

“Yes.”

She went quiet again. Then, softly- “She has no sister to memorialize?”

“Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. Who knows? Who cares? The reality of the sister isn’t the point. She was making herself relatable. “You carve funeral tablets for those you have lost, and so do I.””

She shook her head. “I always hated those games. Being a bodyguard was simple. If I was getting involved, the problem would be solved with violence. Courtly games were always my sisters’ thing.”

I smiled at that. “You will have to tell me about them.”

“Mmm. Some other time. How did you get used to spotting scammers?”

Relationship locked, huh? Oh well. “I had a lot of desperate people for clients. If they knew you, at all, even just by name, they would try to convince you to invest with them. And since all these pricks watched Tik-Toks about how Bernie Madoff made his money, they all tried to run variations on affinity scams. With varying degrees of success.”

“Some of them got you to invest?”

“No, the variation was between “total failure” and “total failure and I look down on you, disdaining to even use you as a rug.”” Naturally I invested in stable earners like limited edition figurines, Funko Pops, and rare vintage ‘art books.’ Well. I put a little money in a few other things. But I ignored the brokerage account as much as I could and just concentrated on the happy things.

She hummed in approval. “Yes, that’s the way. Trash should know its place, and it is the burden of the superior to remind them of it.”

God damn it, Versai.

“Your Discipline is named… Inherent Superiority, right?”

“Oh, you remembered!” I felt like I just earned some relationship points. Just gonna… ignore all that and press on.

“Up for a trip to a beast den?”

“Now that I can move faster than should be physically possible as long as I’m attacking? Oh yes. Who else is going?”

“Rikka, Rakim, Miyuki… I think I can send five?”

“Yes, that’s right.” She nodded.

“Not a lot of other good choices. Rache isn’t going to be any help in a den, ditto the artillery, the Blue Roses are definitionally useless except for buffing Carousel, and Carousel isn’t going because Glass Arrow won’t keep her safe at close range.”

Versai thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. “Pammy just got an upgrade.”

“I don’t have a better idea.” I drummed my fingers on the arms of my throne. Plush canary yellow microfiber really undermines the drumming effect. I really couldn’t think of anyone better. Corporal Mika wasn’t that much better than a Standard Mika at combat, and they really shined on defense.

“I hate sending you out without me.”

She gave me a look. “Meaning no disrespect… technically… but what exactly could you do if you did go? Stab a monster and hope it doesn’t get you first?”

“Says the swordswoman. I won’t play around with my life. I just don’t like it, that's all.” I exhaled hard. I swear I could feel the weight of the funeral tablet pressing down on my back. Turning from wood to lead. But the one unalterable truth of this place was that if you fail to grasp every opportunity, you will most definitely die.

“Go. Clear the den if you can, and if you can’t, retreat at once. Bring them back alive for me, and make sure you come back too.”

“Yes, Tower Master.”

It only took one order for them to raid the beast’s den. It was exactly as described- a hole in the side of a slope with a monster in it. Not a monster like the ones that attacked the Tower. This sounded more like a tiger with the chitinous shell of a scorpion that also breathed fire and who’s claws were poisonous.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Versai carefully didn’t say I would have been useless there. So carefully, it was deafening.

Pammy’s new healing buff rapidly formed a virtuous loop where my Awakened were taking, functionally, half damage. Putting Versai up front to tank was a bit of a mixed bag. She worked the monster over hard, apparently, but the monster actually prioritized killing Pammy.

I frowned when I heard that. Most games have a mechanic for determining monster aggro. It was usually some variation on who caused it the most damage. Some classes in some games, especially tanks in MMORPG’s, would have abilities to increase a monster’s hatred, making them focus on the heavily armored fighters instead of squishy rogues or mages. There was also usually some mechanic for prioritizing healers as targets, often based around the amount of healing they provided.

Or maybe the tiger just picked the weakest looking person and prioritized killing them. That was an established mechanic too, in the mythical land called Reality.

Whatever the truth was, Pammy had the great good sense to keep running around behind the other summons. Versai kept her shield in the monster’s face as much as possible, and the rest of my damage dealers just maximized their output without worrying about anything else. It worked. The armored tiger put up a good fight… but only a good fight.

Speed-hacking Versai is a certified menace.

“Good loot?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen these before. It seems good, though.” Versai handed over two packages.

Armored Tiger Rug- A simple, brutal trophy, it has the benefit of being an impressive wall hanging or a durable and surprisingly easy to clean rug. May be of particular interest to warriors, barbarians and nomads.

Okay? Is it secretly a mission item? Does it buff negotiations, but the devs didn’t want to stick visible stats on it? As a rug, in my personal opinion, it is a failure. Hard metal plates may protect the floorboards, but I’ve got a stone floor here. I need soft. I need that deep pile. And it completely clashed with the aesthetic of the Throne Room. Hell with it. I’d stick it in the courtyard of my private quarters. It will look sharp hanging on a wall there.

The second package was a severed head on a stick. I nearly dropped the thing when it popped out of the packaging. The head was huge, a yard across at the temples, with a jaw that would give piranhas feelings of inadequacy.

Armored Tiger Trophy- Proof of your martial prowess, the totem inspires fear in Tiger-type beasts, as well as evil spirits. May have an unusual effect on warriors, barbarians and nomads.

I didn’t know what to make of that. I mean, most of my summons were warriors, and “barbarians” to me were usually Dutch or Portuguese merchants trying to conduct trade in Japan during the Sengoku Jidai. Or Conan. A ‘barbarian’ in games is basically an offense oriented warrior with a fur fetish and a thing for two handed weapons.

God I want to play Dragon’s Crown again. That game was just so peak.

As for nomads… we live in a Tower. There is a real limited distance we can travel from it. Were we supposed to expect a visit from horse archers or something? Mongols turning up to get ahead of our Great Wall?

I have so many questions. So many. Where would I find more Tiger-type beasts? Can I bring the totem into the Sky Realm for use in Realm wars?

“Think I can use this in Realm wars?”

“Sounds plausible.” Versai nodded halfheartedly.

I slowly sighed. We didn’t get anything much out of this expedition, but these pieces might be situationally useful. Time to give myself the treat I had been saving. I tapped the glowing reward from killing the Murder Baboon Alpha.

Skull of Rag Shebbin- The beast has no name for itself, but it is known and feared as Rag Shebbin. A being only inferred by its traces, for none have seen it and lived. None have survived it at all, in fact. Until you. The sheer fact that you have this horrible thing’s skull inspires awe and terror in units capable of concealment. They will still try to kill you, but they will do so suffering fear penalties.

I replaced the Monster Alpha totem over my front door with the new skull straight away. No speech this time. I wasn’t feeling chatty. “Wanna bet if the Relic Site Rache found is Hidden Moon Mountain?

“No bet.” Versai shrugged. Carousel was hanging around too, but it just… kind of hurt to talk to her. I didn’t know Madame hardly at all. I knew her through the things she left behind, and how she handled things at the battle for the Floating Quarter. A parasocial relationship, and now I was rejecting the person she was molded into.

I had admired her for her resolve and her sacrifices, and then I was revolted at the last, and greatest, of those sacrifices. I had kind of thought I was outgrowing the Trash Human tag. Guess some things are bone deep. “Thank you for your service. Now go be useful somewhere I don’t have to look at you.”

Yeah. Bone deep.

Hell with it.

“Versai, Rikka, Rache, Rakim, Miyuki, you are with me. Launch Expedition.”

We arrived at twilight. We were on the crest of a grassy hill, looking up at a mountain. There was a decent dirt path leading uphill, into a dense forest. I could see bamboo waving in the distance, as well as a mix of other trees behind them. There was a fresh smell to the place. I couldn’t really put a finger on it, but it smelled clean. It smelled good. Wholesome.

“Hidden Moon Mountain.”

“It might not be.” Versai struggled half heartedly.

“Rikka, is this Hidden Moon Mountain?”

“Yes. I am home.”

Versai and I shared a small sigh.

“Do you think we will run into Mika’s home town soon?” I asked idly. Nobody answered. There was a lot of tall grass dancing in the evening breeze. Miyuki kept saying she saw the snake hidden in the grass when she spotted hidden units. Odds were good that it only looked peaceful.

“Alright, time for scouting. Miyuki, can you lead us to the Fragrant Bamboo Inn?”

She paused, seeming to struggle with that for a moment. Then something clicked. “Miyuki can show the way.”

“Good, thank you. Rache, Rikka, scout and report any nearby points of interest, threats, opportunities, all that. Particularly find the Old Temple and scout around there. Meet us at the Fragrant Bamboo Inn. Everyone else, lets’ go get ourselves some rooms for the night.”

We walked uphill, not pushing the pace. There was a faint sound of the wind in the grass that seemed to wrap around us as we walked. I’m not a walk-for-fun kind of guy, but it was… nice. Cool, but not yet cold. Breezy without being annoying. No loud noises.

I was one hundred percent sure we would be jumped. Just a question of now or later.

“Miyuki, Rakim, Versai, keep an eye out. There may be ambushers in the grass.”

“Tower Master?”

“Just paranoid. Unless I’m right.”

Night fell as we walked, indigo twilight fading into night. Thin pinpricks of light emerged, slowly forming constellations I had never seen. I wondered how high up the skybox was. What the exact dimensions of this little pocket world were. For Gradden March, the ruin site was one street and a few buildings that eventually unlocked a pretty decent pocket of a city. This appeared to be an entire mountain. Would I get a mountain next to the Floating Quarter after I conquered it?

Wild to think. “Hidden Moon Mountain.” There is a story hidden in that name.

“Tower Master, there is a lantern in the distance.” Versai pointed. The lantern was moving quite quickly along the edge of the bamboo forest. It would stop and jerk around now and then, before racing on.

“Can you see who is holding it?”

“No, it’s not quite bright enough.”

I was about to order an investigation, but hesitated. “Miyuki, do you see who is making that light over there?”

“Miyuki does not.”

“Ah.” My lips pressed into a thin smile. “Ignore it then.”

“Tower Master?”

“Remember Alliana’s advice? She said to ask the Storyteller at the inn about a ghost story.”

“You think this is connected?”

“Mmm.” I didn’t feel like explaining about fox spirits leading travelers astray with their foxfire. Or any of the other monsters that liked to use a light as a lure. Safest to ignore it, and stick closely to the trail.

We were in the bamboo now. We had lost the stars but gained the most incredible fragrance. I understood the name of the inn, now. It was sweet, and a little woody. Almost spicy, but still vegital. I struggled to put my finger on just what it was, other than happy-making. It also, I quickly noticed, was deafening.

The thunderclouds of narrow leaves and tall bamboo were in constant motion, swaying in the faintest breeze. It sounded like rain was falling, heavy fat drops falling on the forest and beating on the green roof overhead. The wind blew, the bamboo thrashed, and the dry storm blew all around us. Urging us on. Reminding us it would be best to run for shelter.

I’m not some iron minded monk. I picked up the pace, and reminded everyone to keep an eye out. The noise of the forest overwhelmed everything else. A vast white noise machine that would perfectly hide the steps of anything creeping up in the dark.

Miyuki’s hands kept twitching. She was holding her bow in her left hand, seemingly casually, but I could see the way it almost jerked and swam in the air. Her right hand made tiny grasping motions too, like she was about to draw an arrow, but controlled herself.

Versai was the same way. Her cape had transformed back into a round shield, and her hand fidgeted on her sword hilt. Her eyes swung back and forth, but she kept her head more or less still. I had the sense that this was a trained response. That even if she knew her protectee was in danger, she couldn’t act like there was danger.

Rakim had no such burden. She had her carbine at the low ready position and her head on a pivot. Her eyes raked through the darkness with the ready calm of an airbag on a wet night.

And here I was, behind the wheel and speeding us down the road. I deliberately slowed my steps. Not by very much. Just a tiny bit. I focused on walking purposefully, confidently. That was the secret, right? Fake it ‘til you make it. I’m scared. So my people are scared. But if I’m confident, they will be confident. And since I can’t be confident, I can fake it.

I should sing. I paused and reflected on that idea a moment. I should not sing.

“Does anyone here know how to sing?”

“Tower Master?”

“I once got fined for singing the FLCL theme song in a park. Apparently it qualified as noise pollution.”

There was silence. “Oh come on. None of you?”

“I was a bodyguard, Tower Master, not the entertainment.”

“Miyuki stalks her prey in silence.”

“Never on duty.” Rakim’s voice was a little muffled. Repressed. Ready to crash out. The forest was getting to her more than she was letting on.

“Off duty?”

There was a long pause. She was a four star- not as bright or independent as a six star, but there was a lot more flexibility in her than a two or three star. Eventually she shook her head. I’d have bet my own head there was a story there. But so what if I wanted to pry? She couldn’t answer even if she wanted to.

I suddenly grinned, and then my grin boiled over into a laugh. I stopped walking. I had to! I couldn’t keep going, I was laughing so hard. My non-existent lungs were wheezing, my leg was sore from slapping, I was laughing so hard.

“Ghosts! I can’t believe I’m scared of running into ghosts or monsters on a dark forest path at night.”

“Sir?” This time it was Rakim that was giving me the odd look.

“We are the Hundred Ghost Procession, Rakim. WE are the danger in the night. Onwards! Let’s go show these monsters what real undead can do!”