Wish upon the Stars (Original Superhero cultivation sci fi litrpg)

[Malcolm Tent]

We stopped for the night after traveling for another few hours. We didn't run into any new candidates, thankfully, and I was able to condense the mile wide liquid rock swamp into a complete building for us to use as a base of operations. A Piece of Mind parallel to control Mumur, combined with my EXTREME familiarity with the stone in question meant the whole lodge was impossible to spot even when I was unconscious, so I was free to catch some rest with everyone else.


Before that though, I decided to cook dinner for the whole camp. I felt the need to connect with my people a bit more. Our force had expanded massively, and it was getting hard to keep track of everyone. Without a personal stake, I was worried my new faction members would lose motivation.


But cooking for a thousand people was…a lot. Like a staggering amount of food and effort. I needed something easy and quick but also heavy and filling.


I turned, in the end, to the tried and true method of using food to reach out to a friend. Which is to say, I decided to make something to cheer up our wilting vampiress, who had been withdrawn and nervous since the incident earlier.


"Hey Bethy," I called her over to where I stood in front of a huge metal pot. "I need your help with this."


She shrugged, standing up to walk over to me blankly. "I don't really know how to cook. You'd do a better job than me." She stared down at the pot, seeming to lose herself in the dark recesses of the cooking implement. But I was having none of that.


"Well, sure," I said casually. "But I'm making fondue. That's just melted cheese. I'm sure you have some…thoughts, on what kind of cheese I should use, right?"


Her eyes snapped up to me, narrowing in suspicion. "Cheese?" She said slowly. "I know a lot about cheese."


"I know, that's why I asked," I chuckled. "Of course, if you don't want to help, I could always make soup or something. You're a big fan of soup, aren't you Bethy? I think I have the stuff for…lentil garlic."


She flinched back, hissing dramatically. Chelsea, who had approached when she saw me drag Bethy over here, cleared her throat. "Um, hi, yeah, fondue is fine, but what's with the hissing? Is the vampire garlic thing real? I've never seen Bethy pass up food because it had garlic in it, at least not that I noticed."


"What?" Bethy asked in confusion. "No, I just really hate lentils." She pouted at me. "Hey. you're distracting me. I'm trying to be sad here."


Chelsea giggled at that. "Yeah, stop. Gabe has been all broody since the end of the fight. I think he needs a hug." She glanced at me. "After you help Shane pick out some cheeses for this fondue. I'm actually starving, and I want something to eat bad. What do we have to dip in it?"


I backed away as Bethy started digging in her ring for various wheels of cheese and plopping them down on a table she'd pulled from nowhere, loudly announcing the various types of dairy product we had on offer. I kept an ear out, but I was willing to let Chelsea handle that while I went and sought out another friend in need.


Gabe was sitting in the back corner, looking unhappy. Drewnokk had lost to our crew, and Ellia dn the others had driven off their C-rankers pretty easily. Once the twins vanished, no one had bothered to stick around to try to fight for nothing, and they'd scattered.


Our Adamant friend had immediately come to find us and check on Bethy, and on seeing her in tears over what had happened had pretty much shut down. His eyes looked haunted and blank, like he was lost in a fog, and I sat down next to him with a sigh. "Well, that fucking sucked, huh? This succession war isn't exactly a party. You regretting coming along?"


He snorted. "I don't do regrets," he said with a bitter chuckle. "At least, not for helping friends. I just…I feel like I'm falling behind. My drive to advance has been waning. Not that I don't want to keep up, but an Adamant is supposed to forge ahead, and you're all leaving me in the dust." He shot a glance at Bethy and Chelsea where the two of them were working on cheese picking. "I guess I just…I've been so comfortable here. Just one of the crowd. It's hard to stand out when there are so many amazing people around, but that's not always bad. Fitting in was…nice."


I raised an eyebrow at his soft expression. "I'm very specifically NOT going to ask which of them you're looking at right now, because if it's my sister I'd have to kick your ass, and if it's NOT my sister I might STILL have to kick your ass." I was more convinced it was both, actually, but that was a mess I wanted absolutely no part of, and would leave to Chelsea. They were all adults, and their love lives weren't my business.


"You think you could take me?" He grinned, his eyes lighting up with the challenge. "Think I might still be a bit too much for you. Never mess with cavalry. You should get a horse, it would pair well with that spear thing you've been doing lately."


I snorted. "I don't trust any mode of transportation that can make it's own decisions. You might be able to cheat with your magic star horse, but I'd probably end up with some sarcastic asshole horse that would dump me off its back all the time. Sucks Archie is still pretty small. Riding a phoenix into battle would be badass."


"That WOULD be cool," he said thoughtfully. "I wonder if I could figure out a way to adapt my charger into something that flies. Not a bird, but like…maybe a pegasus?"


I grinned at him. "Man, Bethy is a bad influence on you, huh? Or a really good one. Why don't you go ask her about it, since she's the most likely person here to figure out how to swing something like that." My vampire friend regularly altered a fundamental transformation she'd been born with on a casual whim, turning into things like cats and squirrels just because she felt like it. I might be a Path genius, but Bethy was a natural prodigy at altering Skills like that on the fly.


Gabe seemed to brighten slightly, standing up and clapping me on the shoulder. "Thanks, Shane. You're a good guy."


"It's cool man, you just need to get out of your head." I nodded to him, smiling as he headed off to talk to my sister and Bethy. Yawning, I stood up and stretched. I glanced around, noting that everyone was sort of grouping up. All except one person. Benny was off by himself at a table he'd brought in, working on…something. Celine, Jessie, Mel, Abel, and Daysia were over with Holly and Serah, talking about some plant thing or other, but my best friend was all by himself using a series of complicated tools to alter the axe he'd gotten from the siege.


I approached, interested to see what he was doing, and found myself entranced by the process. The axe lay on the table, a dark stained wooden thing with what looked suspiciously like manacles sticking out of the ends. They were open and ignored, with Benny only using the central area of the table. Surrounding the axe were a variety of beakers, test tubes, and flasks, all connected together and bubbling away atop multicolored flames.


One of the flasks I recognized as the kind Zeke used to hold souls, and that one was sitting inside of a circle of oddly numerical symbols. Above it floated…something. A vague shape that seemed halfway stuck between fog and solid, losing its form by the moment as Benny adjusted knobs, feeding materials from the different flasks into the connecting tubes. The liquids dripped down through the soul, and I saw it lose some of its cohesion even further as one of the droplets took on an odd shine.


Rather than hit the flask though, the droplets landed on a wide funnel that interrupted the distance between them, draining down into another tube that led over to the axe. At the end of it, a bright flame glowed, like a butane torch, and Benny was using one hand to slowly engrave things on the axe blades while the other adjusted the various knobs expertly, slightly changing the consistency and color of the flame as he carved.


I whistled. "Damn, is this your new inventing process? I knew your ability would change how it worked, but that's kind of involved."


"It is," he admitted, not even bothering to look up. "But the use of souls makes it both more and less restrictive. It's more…open ended, weirdly, but that also means I can impose my will and control it better. Downside is that souls have tendencies, and they have trouble synchronizing with items that aren't attuned to them."


That was interesting. I knew souls weren't people. They didn't have a consciousness or sentience, exactly. The souls that Benny, Zeke, and people like my dad used weren't trapped human beings suffering for eternity, they were just fragments of vital force that had been imprinted with the characteristics of the people they used to be. The ability for a soul to retain true consciousness was exclusive to mirror soul bodies, which was the reason they could be reformed after shattering.


He was staring hard at the axe head through a pair of odd goggles, but eventually grimaced and turned off the flame. He started packing everything up, taking the goggles off with a sigh. "This is starting to make my head hurt. I'll come back to it later."


"I noticed you haven't upgraded any of your gear recently," I said sympathetically. "I'm guessing this new style of creating has higher requirements?"


He nodded. "It does. Takes ages to get anything done. But I should never need to replace any of this stuff. Soul based artifacts will grow alongside me, and they have a much higher potential limit." He patted the axe fondly. "This beast is going to be the basis of a powerful new ability that will stick with me for the rest of my life."


Putting the axe away in his ring, he packed up the table, then stood and stretched. "Speaking of creating stuff, weren't you supposed to be cooking dinner?"


I didn't see the need to dignify that with a response. Flipping him off, I rolled my eyes, turned and headed back over to Bethy and Chelsea, who were currently arguing over the groaning table full of a dizzying area of cheeses. "No, we can't use ALL of them," my sister said indignantly. "More isn't always better."


"It's CHEESE," Bethy said with a mutinous pout. "More IS always better. Gabe tell her!"


"None of you get a vote," I said ruthlessly as I stopped next to the precariously stacked tower. "And this is WAY too much cheese. You can pick like…three kinds. This is fondue, not alchemy."


Bethy literally stomped her foot in outrage, but I couldn't help but smile. Goofing off with the others put that classic Bethy sparkle back in her eye. She glared at me murderously for a moment, then looked away with a snort. "Fine. Smoked Gouda is my favorite. And Colby Jack is good. And Pepper Jack."


She pointed them each out, and there were indeed several wheels of each. I tossed them casually into the pot, then lit the fire, making sure to keep the heat low. As the smell of cheese wafted out into the building, everyone else started flocking to the cooking pot and I grinned happily. This had been a pretty good plan.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The rest of the labyrinth was as obnoxious as it was frustrating. We caught several more candidates, some we let go, some we trapped and left behind. When all was said and done, at the end of the one week it took us to reach the other side, I ended up receiving another fifty points, a full fifty percent again what I already had. Not to mention fifty six more scrolls to add to my stockpile.

Emerging from the caves, my first thought was…"Wow, this is super pretty." I was blown away. Rolling fields of lush green grass, fluffy white clouds, the sky was even blue, which had to be an illusion because I didn't see a fire cage up there. Small patches of bountiful green trees dotted the landscape, and I could see flowers, butterflies, and any number colorful flora and faun frolicking across the expanse in front of us.

"Yeah, it was designed to be," Jack said wryly. "A great amount of the resources of this planet are focused into this area. The inner two rings on both sides of the planet are the central areas where all the power on this world congregates. Is it any wonder they'd want it to be pleasant? The infrastructure is good too. Case in point."

He points out into the green fields, and I was surprised to see a man approaching. Tall and worn with a thick beard and carrying a shepherds crook. B-rank, obviously, and clearly confident in his power. Behind him trailed about a dozen fluffy looking sheep with scaly wings. As we watched, one of them burped out a plume of fire, not even slowing down as it did.

I expected him to be a guard or something, but Jack greeted him cheerfully as he came closer. "Hey ______ good to see you," I blinked. What was that?

"Um…what did you just say?" I asked him cautiously. "I didn't…did you say anything? I can't remember. I feel like you did, but maybe there was no actual word?" My head was buzzing slightly. Not enough to hurt but enough that it was weird to experience.

Jack snorted. "I said _______. Or I tried to. He's the guide who will lead you to the central city. He lost his name in a poker game a few centuries ago. Now it's impossible to say. If you form the words it just comes out ______."

Bethy gasped in excitement. "You can DO that? That's amazing! What if I took everyone's name from them? I could make everybody nameless like that. Or wait, I could make them all change their names to Bethy! There would be an army of Bethy! A sea of Bethy, the rivers would run red with Bethy!" She threw back her head and cackled in what I'm pretty sure she thought was a menacing boom, but was actually more ridiculous than scary.

"But wait," she said slowly. "How do I take your names? Wait…can I drink them? Somebody let me bite them so I can drink their name!" She looked around frantically, clearly excited to test a new possible use of her powers.

I sighed. "Bethy, none of us are thralls and your bite causes agonizing pain. And no, you can't just bite one of the new guys. Just because we don't know all their names doesn't mean they're expendable."

"You don't know our names?" asked one of the faceless hordes of Ascendants I'd recruited. I was PRETTY sure he was one of Belsara's group.

I clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course I do…you."

Callie pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's Ken. Sorry Ken, my husband gets absent minded in his pursuit of progress. I'll make sure he learns everyone's names as soon as we have some free time. Now Mr…nameless. You'll be guiding us to the city?"

The spokes radiated out from the A-rank cities on either pole. Though there was more than a single city in the B-rank zone, there were still only ten. Combined with the staggering number of competitors that meant we were very likely to run into plenty of my fellow candidates in whatever city we ended up in.

Sure enough, as soon as I took a step away from the cave entrance I got a new task. This one was just to reach Veltheim in time for the "conclave of candidates". Normally, an easy task like that would be a relief, but I was immediately deeply distrustful of it.

Much like the previous task, which had prioritized the safety of the candidates, this one was strange. The only thing I could think of that would necessitate that kind of arrangement was if someone was planning to clue the others in on the Void invasion. Which was an alarming thought.

Firstly, it hadn't been done before for a reason. But more importantly, we'd be gathering together all the candidates in one location, which was a huge security risk. I could only hope that this risk had been weighed by the elders. Not that I was against the thought of getting some help, but I knew it was a big gamble, especially with so many suspected traitors on world.

The nameless man nodded, tapping his crook, and his sheep took flight, circling around us once and then flying back the way he'd come. Because they looked so free and easy, I decided to let Archie out to follow them. He would be able to scout ahead as well as enjoy himself, so I had Bethy release him from her Domain.

My phoenix companion trilled in excitement as he swept off into the blue sky, and the rest of us set off after the nameless man, who had just turned to leave rather than elaborate. The trip was shockingly quick and easy, given the absence of any real threats out here. I wondered if that was an expected aspect of this ring or if the obstacles had been removed to streamline the conclave.

My B-rankers were all together this time. Crell, despite not being the strongest or most experienced, was in charge of that contingent, on my orders. The former lord of the Ghost Bone Tower was one of the craftiest and most terrifying people I'd ever met, and there was no one I'd trust more in a leadership position among my people except Zeke or one of my parents.

For his part, the B-rank looked both smug and relaxed when we showed up, flanked by Carmichael and Alanna, the sword mistress and Dez's dad from the dungeon. The boxer looked a lot more energetic and excited than I'd ever seen him before. Ellisara, who was sticking close to me as my guard, eyed the master manipulator doubtfully. "This is the captain you chose for your B-rank force? He's barely out of C-rank."

"He's got a Mythical skill," I shrugged. "And he's more clever than he looks."

She scowled at him suspiciously. "We'll see. If he wants to be in charge he'll need to earn it. I won't follow some cowardly schemer who can't even get his hands dirty. Your mother told me to guard you, not listen to you. And you, you might have our little lord here fooled, but I don't believe you're capable of running things here for a second. C-rank or not, I could crush you with my bare hands, nevermind my mace."

Crell put both palms up inoffensively, giving her a lazy smile. "Whoa there, don't shoot. I realize I'm a bit underqualified for the job, but Shane himself isn't exactly the most experienced. Trust is more important than raw power don't you think?"

"Um, for the record, I do NOT trust you," I said, raising my hand helpfully. "I like you well enough, though even that wasn't true at first, but I definitely don't trust you. You're bound by contract not to harm me, but you're way too slippery for me to place unconditional faith in. But then, I don't trust you either, Ellie. No offense, but you work for my mom, not me. My mother and I aren't the same person, and if you think something is in her interests and I don't think it's in mine, you'll still do it. That makes you somewhat unreliable in my eyes."

She blinked at that. "I…did not get that impression from you. You seemed perfectly comfortable with me."

"Oh, I am," I assured her. "I just don't trust you. I trust almost nobody. I could count the list on one hand. I don't need to trust someone to like or get along with them. So you don't need to worry about Crell betraying me, because I'm always ready for that. I learned that lesson the hard way." The feeling of a blade sliding into my flesh when Travis turned on us was one of the most vivid experiences of my life. Not for the pain itself, but for the impotent rage and helplessness I felt during the incident.

To my surprise, rather than get offended, Ellie grinned at me approvingly. "That's probably the smartest thing I've ever heard you say, Shane. I'm impressed. You've got your head on straighter than I'd expected, given your touchy feely attitude about friendship."

"People take that kind of thing personally, even when it's not meant that way," I shrugged. "No need to bring attention to my own issues when it'll just start a fight."

She hummed in acknowledgement, then turned to Crell. "Alright, I'll buy it. For now. But I'll be watching you. And like the little lord said, I'm not here on his orders. If I decide you're a threat, you'll never see me coming, no matter how sneaky you are."

Crell fanned himself dramatically. "Bestill my heart. I think I'm in love. Don't you worry about the boss. He's my gravy train. If he becomes the Wishmaster, as one of his most important vassals, I'll have an all access pass to one of the most expansive factions in the universe. You can't buy access like that. I'll do whatever I need to do to get him to the top."

That was surprising. Not because he was acting out of self interest, that was perfectly predictable, but because it implied he'd been doing extensive research since emerging from the dungeon, which I hadn't seen any real sign of. I suppose expecting someone like Crell to tip his hand was naive, but honestly, I was slightly MORE comfortable with him now that I knew his angle, contract or no.

I turned to my current second in command. "So, I trust you've been making inroads with the locals and gathering intel on this conclave? I'll put you in touch with Devlan, he's our man on the ground for some of the local factions. His uncle runs The High Society in the C-rank zone and he has some contacts that could help you make inroads. The Marsh Elves too."

"B-rankers are more hesitant to shake up the status quo," he grimaced, gesturing around at the fresh and pleasant atmosphere. "Not as much to gain, more to lose. The inner rings are a pretty sweet setup. Not to say we have no interested parties, but negotiations are ongoing. Especially with this conclave in town. Lots of competition. I have at least three possibles and one strongly implied yes."

I sighed, but nodded. That made sense. I hadn't been expecting to roll up B-rankers like I had the earlier factions anyway. Every A-rank was going to be a legitimate nightmare to recruit, with legions of followers and scaths of influence. The B-rankers, as the next link in the chain and the go betweens for all the lower ranked zones, would be the key to swaying any of those, and they knew it. Which meant we'd need to wine and dine them, regardless of the urgency of the Void incursion.

"Alright, politics," I exhaled in annoyance. "Fun. But doable. For now, take us to wherever you've been staying." I had a message incoming about the next step in this task, and I wanted to know what was on the horizon. Honestly, I kind of missed when Void monsters had been trying to kill us. I had a feeling this was going to be so much more irritating.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I considered what I needed to do for a while after we arrived in Veltheim. Crell had secured us an entire boarding house…somehow. He refused to elaborate on how, and every time I tried to push he made up a different story. Based on the commonalities, I was PRETTY sure it had something to do with a pie eating contest, or possibly a bear. Then again, trying to weasel the truth out of someone with his skillset was probably a lost cause.


Once we were settled in though (Callie and I claimed the penthouse first thing), I started considering next steps. Firstly, I needed backup. Not just my people, everyone would have those, I needed WYNDHAM backup. Belsara and Nat were a good start, but I could do better. With the Void Incursion looming, I had a real chance to put together something that would have been impossible before now. A legitimate power bloc.


In fact, I suspected half the POINT of the last trial before we reached the city was to pave the way for this exact scenario, forcing us to meet each other in non lethal conditions to feel out possible allies.


Alys was one, obviously. My sunny cousin was probably the most reasonable of the Wyndhams I'd met. I got a good feeling from her, and I always trusted my instincts.


There were others. A dour looking dark haired Wyndham named Charlie, with a keen eye and a mind for details. He'd almost caught us when we'd ambushed him, and had effectively negotiated a peaceful surrender with the warning. An intense cousin named Nadia, who was probably the steeliest family member I'd ever met, willing to throw down with us without flinching rather than be rolled over.


A surprisingly bloodthirsty family member named Derrick who might have been the most openly chaotic and battle crazy person I'd ever met after Abel, but who had backed down when my mentor beat him in a straight fight.


Each of them were uniquely suited to joining our little clique for one reason or another, even if for some that reason was just "because I said so". Contacting them with some on Nat's scrolls was child's play though, so after reaching out to arrange a meeting when they arrived (since we'd waylaid them in the labyrinth they were obviously running behind, though a few of them had arrived) and I contacted Crell to set them up.


"You want to rent out a tavern?" He asked me over my scan ring. "That'll be expensive, but it's not a terrible idea. I've arranged a few meetings, like I said, but if we can get some of them to come to you there's a better chance of getting them onboard. Politics is about prestige. About leaving an impression. Home turf advantage is always a plus when dealing with potential allies or even enemies. Word gets out that you're holding court, especially with other Wyndhams attending, people start to get a certain impression of you."


Callie, who was sitting on the couch next to me in our room, nodded along. "He's right, we all know how important renown is to Ascendants. And that usefulness applies at a micro as well as a macro level. I trust you have some useful contacts who can spread the word, make sure it reaches the right people at the right moment. Timing is the most important part of any story."


He rolled his eyes. "Girl, I was building empires when you were scraping your knee on the playground. I know how to do my job. I ran an INFORMATION broker service. I'll put the word out so people lay eyes on the place at exactly the right time. That's the big trick. A proper rumor can't be spread as a reaction. You need to start the whispers in advance, so the witnesses all arrive JUST in time to see the big event. That's how you get the most impact."


"I'll leave it to you then," I told him cheerfully. "Just don't fuck it up, of Ellie might have some things to say about your effectiveness as my subordinate."


I hung up without waiting for him to respond, though I saw he was amused and somewhat intrigued. Callie snorted at his expression as it faded. "Should we be worried about that? Your mom won't kill him for trying to flirt with her disciple will she? I think Ellie is a future saintess or something."


"My mom has two kids," I pointed out mildly. "I don't think the church requires people give up romance. Past that, it's not our business. And I don't really want it to be. We have an army of over a thousand supernaturally fit supernaturally youthful people with big flashy personalities working for us now. I'm pretty sure we should draw the line about our interest in their personal lives REAL close to our inner circle, otherwise our lives will turn into a soap opera."


She snorted at that. "Yeah, because our lives definitely don't already resemble one of those. Now, if we're holding court I think we should be in top form. Let's take a nap while we have a few hours to kill."


"If I ever forgot how much I loved you, which I assure you is impossible, making suggestions like that would remind me instantly," I told her soulfully. Then I tossed her over my shoulder and trekked over to the bed, flopping down beside her as I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. There was really nothing like a good nap.


We were awakened an indeterminate amount of time later by another call. I grumbled, but forced my brain to sputter to life as I pawed at my hand with my other hand. When the screen popped up, it was Crell again, and a quick check of the time told me that he was probably calling about the completed arrangements. It had been hours. I'd given him the timeframe of our meetup and once he told me the location I'd contact the others. I wanted to trust them, but since I had to wait anyway, only telling them the meetup spot last minute would serve as an extra layer of insurance.


The tavern we rented out wasn't far, and I slipped back into my armor before readying to leave. Tracing my fingers over it, I felt the edges of the gouges that Drewnokk had left. My C-rank plate was quickly becoming outdated. When my grandmother gave it to me all those months ago, it had basically been a guarantee of safety. Now that I was almost C-rank myself, it was clearly not enough. Unfortunately, full plate was EXPENSIVE, and it got more expensive the further up you went. For the same reason there were very few S-rank ships and the ones that did exist were small vessels like the Acheron, making a full suit of body armor out of high grade materials was difficult to justify.


Callie stepped behind me, tucking herself under my arm and laying her head against my chest. "Credit for your thoughts?"


"Just worrying about my armor, might need an upgrade," I glanced down at her, admiring her costume. "I'd be a lot more comfortable if you upgraded to something a bit more hard shelled. The dress is lovely, but I worry about you."


She snorted. "I'm a heretic angel now, love. I'm more durable than you are. Worry about yourself." Her own fingers found the marks. "But you're not wrong. I was pretty worried when those claws laid into you." Her eyes flashed, pulsing blue black. "If I get my hands on that harpy, I'll tear the wings off him like a fly for what he tried to do to you, not to mention how upset he made Bethy."


"I have a feeling we might need to wait on that," I grimaced. "I won't be the only one making alliances. With the Void incoming, we can't jeopardize our potential power bloc by pitting them against another group. The twins are too effective with that asshole onboard. Anyone who can hang with Bethy is someone we can't afford to ignore. Not just as an enemy, but as a potential ally for others."


She beamed at me, despite the sour wrinkle in her brow. "Was that POLITICAL savvy from my sneaky brute of a husband? I'm so proud. I can't wait to tell your mother, she's going to be SO impressed."


"Shhh," I said solemnly, raising a finger to my mask. "Don't tell anyone. If they figure out I can do it everyone will expect me to handle all the politics. I've made sure to cultivate a reputation as a political incompetent. Of course, I cultivated that reputation by BEING politically incompetent, but that's the genius of it. It's foolproof."


She reached up to cup either side of my face behind my mask with a sly smile. "Oh, honey, if being married to you has taught me anything its that nothing is foolproof.


"Impudence!" I boomed in a faux arrogant tone. "I demand satisfaction!"


She winked at me. "Later, we have a meeting to go to." She chucked me under the chin with her finger and turned to sashay away, and I just laughed, following her with a smile. It never ceased to amaze me. She always knew just how to turn any fear or worry in my guy into surety and confidence. I would never have gotten to where I was without my wife, and I made sure to let that bleed through the bond so she could feel it. The love and devotion that fed back over the connection equalled mine in intensity and passion, and my heart warmed as I felt the concrete evidence of how much she adored me.


Crell was waiting for us outside, chatting animatedly at Ellie, who looked suspicious and tense. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw us. "What took you two so long? We're going to be late."


"Took a nap," I said with a shrug. "And he JUST woke us up, so blame him if the timetable is off."


"Gladly," she said, shooting Crell an irritated glance. He returned it with a winning smile, and she rolled her eyes as she hustled us out of the building. I hadn't known she was coming with us, not specifically, but it didn't surprise me. Ellie was our personal guard, and I wasn't at all shocked to see Felicity fall into step on the other side of us, nor to spot Argaunt following from a distance.


They were C-rankers, true, but Carmichael was here as well, and Alanna was following closely behind. Both of them were not only B-rank, but had Mythical skills on top of it making them truly dangerous enemies even in a B-rank city.


Aside from them though, I was surprised to see Tilda with us, the dark haired green eyed member of the high society who had infiltrated the orphanage and whom Callie had decided to take into her service. She'd been outfitted in a dress that looked just like my wife's along with a mask and cloak that made them look like sisters, and I cocked my head at Callie when I saw her. "You have a sidekick now?"


Sidekicks weren't unheard of back home, though they were unusual. As I'd become an Ascendant I'd figured out that while a sidekick could be boosted alongside their mentor by fame, they ALSO detracted from the renown that an Ascendant could gather for themselves, so it was certainly a choice.


She shrugged. "I like Bella, and she made me want a disciple of my own. Speaking of, where is she? You should bring her along for this, show her how it's done."


"I'm not sure I KNOW how it's done," I said wryly. "But you're not wrong." I whistled loudly, and a green streak shot down from above to perch on my wrist. "Hey bud, take this to Bella," I scrawled a quick note and passed it to Archie, who trilled and then took off to find my apprentice. I could have just called, but I had a rep to maintain. No. Not maintain. Expand. I needed to grow my reputation as quickly as possible. Hopefully that was just around the corner.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Derrick was the first to arrive. I'm somehow not surprised, Derrick reminds me uncomfortably of Abel, and my mentor is never late to a party unless it's fashionable. Unlike Abel though, Derrick was also young and incredibly eager to prove himself. Choosing to become a combat focused Wishmaster candidate spoke to a deep love of battle and glory. His wishes were probably all very heavily Might focused.


Which is what made it both surprising and somehow incredibly unsurprising at the same time when he kicked the door in with a crash bellowing. "Derrick ARRIVES!"


I glowered at him from the table where Callie and I were enjoying a meal. "Can Derrick shut the fuck up? Some of us are trying to eat."


Callie looked appalled, but Derrick just grinned at me. "Sorry cousin, I didn't realize you had such a delicate constitution. I'll try to speak softly so as not to give you indigestion. After all I wouldn- OW ow ow, Molly stop that hurts!"


The tiny purple haired woman who had entered behind him had reached up and grabbed his earlobe viciously, twisting and pulling him down so she could shout right into it. "We are here for an ALLIANCE meeting you colossal child! I asked you to do one thing! Don't provoke the host, and what is the first thing you do?"


"I like her," Callie said with a grin. "She gets things done."


"Don't get any ideas," I said mildly. "I'm not some musclebound dunce like Derrick. And you're strong as hell as a heretic angel. You'd probably rip my ear off"


She pouted at me cutely. "Spoilsport, you know I could never bear to see you hurting."


Smiling softly at her, I reached across the table to take her hand, intertwining our fingers. "Awww, Cryton they're so cute!" Chirped the sunny voice of Alys as she stepped inside past the squabbling duo. "Why aren't you ever that sweet with me." She tucked herself under the copper titan's arm, resting her head on his shoulder like a cuddly kitten.


"Because it would shatter my reputation in front of potential adversaries," he said in a resigned tone. "Like this is doing right now."


"Man, she's got you wrapped around her finger, huh buddy?" I asked him with a wide grin.


My wife glowered at me. "Are you saying loving your significant other is some kind of sign of weakness?"


"No dear, sorry dear," I said immediately, dramatically flicking my eyes down to stare at my food like I was cowed. Though not before winking at my cousin and her apparent boyfriend. Alys giggled at the exchange, and Cryton looked mildly amused if still long suffering.


The next pair to enter was Nadia and her own second. Nadia was a short dark skinned girl with soft features and and quiet demeanor, but she had an IRON spine when pushed. I swear she'd been willing to die with us rather than get pushed around, despite being heavily outnumbered and outmatched. She was willing to negotiate, luckily, but her nerve had made a strong impression.


At her side was a tall pale girl with sparkling silver hair wearing a set of gleaming armor, and, of all things, a crystal tiara. Bryn was Nadia's second, basically what Callie was to me and Valk was to Nat, the main focus of her wishing and one of her closest advisors and friends.


Charlie was the last to arrive, alongside his retained Walter, the men resembling nothing so much as a pair of brothers, both being tall and having dark hair and eyes. They didn't join in the teasing banter like Alys and Derrick, being much more reserved. Belsara was, of course, already here, along with Nat, though both of them were part of my own retinue rather than being individual participants. They were sitting with Ellie, Felicity, and Crell, who I suspected was keeping them all from being noticed.


I frowned down at my pot pie. "I'm going to have to eat this later, aren't I? Or get a new one." I pushed it across the table. "Here, hon, you can have it. I'll look like a savage trying to run a meeting with my mouth full."


My wife just squealed in delight, snagging it and dragging it across the table as she released my hand, I laughed, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Just chime in through me if you have anything to add. And enjoy." I glanced up at my four cousins. "Let's sit at the big table so we can fit everyone, shall we?"


"I get to sit at the head of the table!" Derrick proclaimed loudly, having since freed himself from Molly's grasp.


Cryton was none to pleased with that. "You're not even the oldest Wyndham here. Everyone knows etiquette is for the host to sit at one end and the eldest at the other. Eldest would be Nadia." I wasn't even going to ask how he knew that, because I had no idea who was the oldest, but it was good info.


Derrick just sneered at him. "You better shut your mouth servant, or I'll have your guts for garters."


"You wear garters?" Cryton said with an unconcerned smirk.


My cousin flinched. "Wait, what? No! It's a turn of phrase! You know that's not what I meant!" He pointed accusingly at Cryton. "Don't make me kick your ass!"


"Is that a turn of phrase too?" Cryton said smugly. "Because metaphor is the only way you could ever hope to beat me in a fight."


"Enough!" I cut in, my voice booming as I reached back for my old "Fist" persona. "The table is round you fucking idiots. Because I KNEW you morons would argue about this. Now come sit down so we can start the meeting. If I wasted a pot pie for no reason I'm going to have Abel and Bethy kick BOTH your asses."


Alys and Molly both snickered at the misfortune of their respective partners, and my sunny cousin beamed at the camaraderie. I could already tell Molly had just accidentally made a friend for life. Alys was the type to make friends with everyone.


It's…weirdly familiar honestly. The vibe with my relatives is a lot like with my friends. Not personality wise, really. But the bickering and the shit talking reminds me of how I interact with people like Benny and Abel. It's really nice. I have Chelsea, and we've gotten closer, but I never really had a BIG family. Or I did, but it never felt like it. I didn't know these people well, but I felt comfortable with them.


Which I considered might be recursion, actually. The us against the world mentality was part of the Wyndham lore. As was the copious amounts of infighting, granted. But positive recursion tended to be harder to resist than negative. The instinct to be a backstabbing dick was something any of my friendlier relatives would push back against, but instinctively liking and wanting to get closer to someone? Why would you want to avoid that? I wondered if the old man had actually considered that before he formed the family as it was? Or maybe I was giving him too much credit, who knew what gods were capable of?


Shaking that off, I plopped down in my seat. Renting the round table had been Crell's idea, actually, and he'd definitely proved his worth again with that little spark of genius. I wondered if he knew about the Wyndham meeting customs or just assumed a bunch of megalomaniacal reality warpers would be prickly about status.


"So, what do any of you know about the reasons for the recent changes in the succession war?" I asked bluntly, trying to gauge where to start this.


Alys grimaced. "I've heard some…not so great stuff. I started asking around, and word on the street is the Void is involved. I mean, something is clearly going on, but I was hoping they were just updating the competition or something. It's been static for a long time."


"The Void is sticking their nose into things now?" Nadia asked grimly. "I'd have expected those graveborn upstarts of being behind things if there was an outside force, why would the Void be intervening?"


"The Void hate us," I told her bluntly. "And the Vanished gods provided a point of access and a distraction. Having dealt with them a bunch of times, I can promise you that they view any opportunity to fuck up realspace as a gift from whatever they have that passes for gods. But yes, Alys is right. The Void is here, and they're making a play to wipe out the entire current generation of the WCP and every one of our retainers along with us."


I explained the situation, filling them in on the Void ladder and the danger on the horizon. The relaxed atmosphere vanished in moments. Say what you wanted about my family, but they knew how to get down to business when it was time to be serious. I suppose none of them would have reached this point if they hadn't.


Nadia was the first to respond after I finished. "That is…most distressing," she admitted. "I'll have to confirm your story, of course. But I can see why you approached us. Strength in numbers, and all that. But how do we deal with the obvious flaw in that plan?"


"The succession war," I sighed. "I know. We all want to win, I assume?" I got nods, unsurprisingly. "But it seems like they're going to be shifting away from direct combat. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to see them mobilizing us against the Void invaders directly through tasks in the upcoming rounds. While in the past, working together might have been kind of tricky, I think we could manage it this time."


The rest of them all seem to look to Nadia as the leader, at least in this context. I'm approaching them, but Nadia is clearly someone to be deferred to. I suppose because she's the eldest. I assume from them KNOWING she's the eldest that they have much better sources about the family than I do.


"It might be possible," she hedged slowly. "I suppose. The Void is certainly a larger problem than a bit of advantage in the competition, though obviously not as large as the succession war itself."


I find myself…agreeing with that. I'd been doing a lot of thinking about this, and my momentum for growth was a HUGE advantage. But that momentum was going to start slowing down once I hit C-rank. I'd need ten million points for my next rank up, and the current trickle of income I had wouldn't BEGIN to cover that anytime soon. My best shot at advancing quickly and finally catching up to my Path advancement was winning this. Becoming the Wishmaster was a coveted position for a reason. The sheer quantity of renown incoming from the office would make reaching B-rank a breeze.


Damn. I'd been corrupted by the WCP and turned into one of those maniacs who thought the succession war was the most important thing. How the mighty had fallen.


"I think we should get an idea what the conclave will entail before making any concrete decisions," I said easily. "Make sure that our upcoming tasks end up being team compatible. If so…well, let's just call this meeting an early audition. I think we could all work really well together. For now though, we should all get to know each other a bit better and you can check into everything I told you." I raised a hand, gesturing to the man behind the bar. "Barkeep, pot pies for everyone, on me!"


Everyone seemed receptive, and I ignored my wife's internal snickering that I'd pivoted the whole meeting to get another pot pie. She was mistaken. I was just being a good host. But man, that pot pie was amazing. I was totally going to have seconds.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Once my cousins were gone, Crell approached me about another meeting, this one with one of the locals. "Well, the plan worked like a charm," my advisor said as he dropped down into the chair across from me. "One of the more deadly local bosses has reached out to us to speak to you. The current Lord of the Hall of Steel, Fade Genix, has expressed interest in a potential alliance."


"The Hall of Steel?" I asked with interest. "Sounds impressive, what do they…do?"


"Bodyguards and mercenaries mostly," he shrugged. "But they have an excellent reputation. Hall fo Steel guards are prized for their discretion and adherence to contracts. As well as their nearly invincible skills in single combat. They're particularly popular as stand ins for duels, and one Hall of Steel Centurion is worth ten regular fighters…and costs about thirty times as much. Getting them to sign on with us as actual contracted supporters would be HUGE."


Callie beamed at me. "And they want to work with YOU. So many of your cousins in the city and they approached us, I'm so proud of you honey. You've done so much with so little coming into this war, and someone has taken notice. This is where things turn around for us, you'll see."


I laughed at that. I wasn't sure how much we NEEDED to turn them around, honestly. Despite the Void nonsense we hadn't been doing too badly for ourselves to begin with. But I wouldn't say that to Callie. She was the one who was haunted by all this Void bullshit to begin with, and I absolutely did not want to downplay what must be a terrible and frightening experience for her. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me and sending love and reassurance through the bond.


She relaxed against me, melting into my embrace for a second, and we just ignored everything around us for a moment, enjoying a world where we were the only two people in existence.


"This is very sweet, but we DO have a meeting beginning any minute," Crell said with a frustrated groan. "Benny was right, you two ARE insufferable when you're feeling affectionate. You're giving me a toothache."


"Philistine," Ellie said with a sneer. "I think it's wonderful the little lord has found such a caring and devoted partner. Your mother told me how much you two adore each other, but seeing it myself is so sweet. I feel obligated to mention that my master has only refrained from expressing her fervent desire for grandbabies to give you two your space. Aunty thoughts on when we're going to see some little angels flying around?"


Callie squeaked in mortification. "That's…ELLIE! We're twenty! You can't just…we're not..but WAR!"


"And if you WIN that war, you'd be in a perfect position to have kids!" she chirped happily. "Shane would be the Wishmaster, and you'd have the full resources of the WCP to dedicate to the safety and health of your children."


I narrowed my eyes at her suspiciously. "You know, you seem awfully invested in the parental potential of a pair of twenty year olds for someone who claims she WASN'T instigated by my mother." She froze, her eyes darting left and right desperately. I considered just outright busting her on it…but I honestly didn't blame my mom. Not that I was ready to be a father yet, but given how she'd lost so many years with me, now that the family was back together, it only made sense that she'd want a grandchild to spoil. In fact there was no reas- my mind shut down, a horrified look crawling across my face.


Callie, who noticed my horror through the bond, turned to look at me in concern. "Shane? What is it?"


"I just realized I left my parents alone in the A-rank city for the first extended period of time since my sister and I were separated," I said, my voice filled with indescribable discomfort. "You don't think I'm going to end up with a sibling by the time we get there, do you?"


Ellie burst out laughing. "Oh, buddy. It sounds like you don't want the answer to that question."


I cringed. Nobody wanted to think about their parents getting together, but the fact that mine looked about the same age as me and that I was really just getting to know them properly made it infinitely more awkward. I shook the thoughts out of my head firmly. Not my business, didn't want to think about it. "Speaking of subject changes," I said in a forced cheerful tone. "When exactly is Fade going to get here?"


"Announcing his excellency, Lord Fade Genix," came a pompous booming voice from outside the tavern. "Lord of the House of Steel, grand protector of the iron fields, fist of the unflagging, saint of the sword, blade of-"


"For the love of the gods Dremman, enough," came a tired voice. "I understand you want to establish my credentials, but we're going to be here all day, and half of those titles don't even make sense. You don't have to list EVERY single name anyone has ever called me. I doubt Master Wyndham is so petty as to be swayed by a few meaningless titles in any case." Despite the harsh words, his voice sounded easy and confident, not angry or perturbed at all.


I glanced at Crell, who shrugged. It wasn't odd we could hear them talking, our Perceptions were all well north of five or six digits. I cleared my throat. "Please, enter and be welcome Lord Fade," I called casually. Sure enough, as soon as I spoke, the door of the room pushed open, and one of the most intimidating people I'd ever met stepped inside.


B-rankers, by and large, came in many flavors. Some of them were terrifying, some of the unassuming. Zeke had a unique knack for masking his nature and coming across as a freewheeling fun loving layabout, whereas some of my more combat focused B-rank retainers were more the type to impose their will on the world around them through force.


It wasn't anything as direct of notable as a Domain, obviously, but B-rankers with condensed Chronicles tended to EXUDE their Path in the same way that Abel used to do during combat. I wasn't sure if that was just very strong ones or if they had always done that and I just lacked the senses to perceive it, but it was pretty clear to me that Fade was incredibly in tune with his path and Chronicle, to the point where they bled through his every movement.


All I could see when I looked at him was metal. Not literally, though his irises did gleam like polished steel, but subconsciously. His gaze was razor sharp, his steps solid and implacable, and every gesture and movement resembled some form of metallic item or concept. It was frankly staggering, a level of communion between man and Path I had never experienced before, and one far beyond the normal leakage that I got from B-rankers. Of course, a case could be made that most of the more powerful Ascendants I'd met had control too good to show this kind of external signage, but still, it made an impression either way.


I stepped away from Callie, beaming at the B-ranker and offering my hand. "Lord Fade, good to see you. I appreciate you requesting this meeting. I had planned to reach out myself if you hadn't, the Hall of Steel is famed for its discretion and ability, and I'd be a fool not to express interest in working with such an effective force."


Judging by his raised eyebrow, I was laying it on a little thick, but thankfully not thick enough to warrant any annoyance. Which was fair, I wasn't quite as polished at sweet talking people in this context as some of my friends and advisors. Still, I didn't think I'd done too badly, and Fade happily joined us at the table alongside his herald Dremman, a goliath of a man with tan skin, a shaved head, and tattoos around one eye.


We all sat down, ready to eat yet more pot pies (I loved them so much), and I finally decided to get down to business. "So. Now that we're settled in, I suppose the obvious questions need to be asked. Namely, what do you want, and what can you offer? I'm not naive enough to assume I'm the best of my cousins from a power or utility standpoint. Admittedly I have some impressive allies, and there ARE benefits to working on my side, but as one of the premiere B-rankers in this ring you could have your pick of basically any Wyndham."


Far from being offended, Fade looked pleased at my candor. "An excellent question. My offering, of course, is the full strength of the Hall of Steel. Ninety peak C-rankers and ten B-rankers including myself. A hundred of the most talented and well trained warriors on the heirworld. And a faction unaffiliated with any of the higher level machinations you might trip over with the other potential allies you have available."


That was solid. Ten B-rankers was double my current number, and another ninety C-rankers on top of that was staggering. Not to mention they were all elites, and should be able to hold their own with people like Ellie. Considering how lopsided things got dealing with the twins, I was excited to expand my forces so mightily.


"Which brings us too my second question," I pointed out. "Why me? Like I said, there are better options. I'll do my best to work with you, but this isn't going to be easy. I MIGHT lose. I'll still try to get as many of you out as possible when I leave, but you might need to leave some of your forces behind. Are you willing to risk that?"


Fade grinned wolfishly. "Honest as well as flattering. Not a bad combination. I never like sycophants, and I'm going to be working for you, not the other way around. In fact, that's part of what drew me to you. That and the stories surrounding your father. Competence aside, the Wish Devil is infamous and celebrated in equal measure for his commitment to contracts. As someone who prides myself on his word, having an employer so motivated to keep to our agreement appeals to me.


"While many will sign a contract, adherence to the letter and spirit of an agreement are different things," he explained, sitting back as he cut into his pot pie. "While I certainly expect you to try to get the best deal possible, I have confidence you'll act in good faith beyond such negotiations. I can't say the same for many of your cousins."


That…was probably fair, honestly. Wyndhams were slippery bastards. Hell, our signature skill was literally predicated on milking triple the value of our stats to our benefit. As much water as the "fair compensation" clause carried in the wish power, the fact was that we were all predisposed to try to get something for nothing.


I, at least, respected my contracts and did my best to abide by them. Knowing that implied an excellent information source, which I hoped to pick Fade's brain about at some point, but regardless. I understood his purpose for coming here.


"Alright," I said with a solemn nod. "I get that. So, I suppose all we have left to deal with is the contract."


He smiled grimly, his eyes gleaming like an unsheathed blade. "Not quite. Respect for contracts is well and good, but my reputation is not merely contractual. It's built on competence. If you want my people to work for you, we're going to need a demonstration of your own capabilities. Coincidentally, this will allow you to announce your capability to the rest of the city as well, strengthening your position in Veltheim.


"But make no mistake, I do not speak of a representative. I speak of YOU. If you want to earn my fealty, I expect you to shed blood for it." His gaze bored into me like a drill. "Be it yours or someone else's, blood must spill. So, what do you say? Are you willing to engage in a personal exhibition match in front of the entire city?" The room went silent, so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Well. Hadn't been expecting that.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Obviously, I accepted. Fade was a complete monster in combat from what I could tell, someone who stood at the absolute peak of the heirworld in terms of battle skill. Having him and his people on board would not only make my claim to victory stronger, but would make all my people that much safer during the Void invasion.


Fade didn't stay, wishing me well and telling me the time and date of my match, which would be the next day. I sighed internally at the news. Fade's challenge was going to hang all my plans. Every possible alliance, in or out of the family, was going to be waiting for the dime to drop, which meant he'd essentially guaranteed I'd get no responses until after it happened. I turned to Crell with a grimace. "So, Mr. Info Broker, any idea who I'm going to be fighting?"


He hissed in displeasure. "There are…a finite number of options. But none of them are good."


"I know it's not one of Fade's direct subordinates, at least," I said hopefully. "He was pretty clear he only had a hundred and there's no D-rankers. He IS going to put me against a D-ranker, right?"


"Definitely," he assured me. "The House of Steel is all about their rep. He won't ruin his to punch down at you. That wouldn't accomplish anything. He might as well have just said no or not come here at all. No, you'll be fighting a D-ranker, though most likely a VERY dangerous one. The House of Steel doesn't have any upstream connections, but they have plenty downstream. They're one of the most dangerous factions in the B-rank zone, and they're absurdly selective, but EVERYONE wants to join."


I sighed. "So I'm going to have every idealistic kid with a dream and a dagger lining up to kick my ass to show their local celebrities that they have what it takes to run with the big dogs?" His nod was not encouraging.


Callie looked unconcerned though. "Shane, honey, not just anyone will be able to hang with you. With all your forms and your gear and your training, not to mention being less than a hundred thousand points from C-rank, you're sitting near or even past the peak of D-rank power. And that's not even taking into account your Path bullshit. Not that there's no one in D-rank who could threaten you, we know that's not true, but it'll need to be someone scary. I'm guessing there aren't THAT many truly terrifying options close enough to a feasible possibility." She raised an eyebrow at Crell.


He grimaced. "Four, that I can think of. Two of them aren't in town, but with all the factions and candidates trekking into the city, they might show up. The crosssection of D-rank fighters who could give Shane a decent fight, have the qualities the House of Steel are looking for, and haven't broken through yet within a few days travel…it's not exactly definitive, but that's enough parameters to narrow it down."


We stared at him flatly, waiting for him to elaborate, and he jumped in his seat after a second. "Oh, you mean like…now."


"Yes NOW," spat Ellie with annoyance. "When the hell else would they mean?"


"I don't know, it just seemed like a later conversation, it's not like we don't have all night," he said sulkily. "But fine, a quadret of dossiers coming up. I'll start least likely and work my way up. Firstly, the one I sincerely doubt you'll face is Oryan. Master archer, clone powers, and he uses some sort of insanely dangerous super bow. His arrows almost never miss, and they can do weird shit like curve. Combined with the cloning you end up under a rain of arrows within seconds. His Might is stupid high, both because he's extremely mobile and because the bow he uses is GIGANTIC and takes immense power to draw."


I whistled. "And I'm NOT going to fight him?" I asked hopefully. "Because I don't really LOVE the idea of fighting a walking artillery barrage." I could counter him, between my predictive abilities and my various tricks I'd probably be fine. Probably. But it would be a long and obnoxious fight I'd rather just avoid.


Surprisingly Ellie answered this one. "The optics are off," she said with a shake of her head. "Sends the wrong message. The Hall of Steel are professional soldiers. Close combat elites and warrior geniuses. Fielding a ranged combatant who relies on overwhelming firepower to just blast you down runs counter to the whole purpose of the duel."


Crell tapped his nose. "Yup. Got it in one. Same reason the second one is out. Light based stealth assassin named Dawn. Fast as hell and with a bunch of weird cauterizing laser stab tricks. Bends light to become invisible. Same problem though, like we said. In fact, it's even worse, because not only is the sneaky stabby thing "dishonorable" it's also boring to watch. They want to put on a good show even if they lose, which remember they're hoping they do.


"Now, the third one is one of the two options that you're most likely to run into. Big ass armored bastard named Clayton Rivers," his tone was surprisingly appreciative. "He has some kind of density shifting ability I think. Prefers charges. He MIGHT be an Adamant. I haven't been able to confirm, but I do know he isn't someone you want to meet head on. Rivers is probably the best representative of brute force in your face combat I can imagine, and he definitely fits the image to an extent."


"I don't see that one," Ellie said, shaking her head. "Too blunt. Fade struck me as the economy of motion type. He likes force, but only as much as necessary. I'd bet credits to donuts he doesn't want a brute force brawl. He wants something sophisticated. Style and brutality. He wants his guy to win and look good doing it. Raw skill and effortless violence are that guy's cup of tea." She raised an eyebrow at Crell. "I'm right, aren't I? The last one is a weapons prodigy or something?"


He shrugged. "Duellist," he admitted easily. "Some kind of blood based power, at least that's what people think, he's subtle about it. Cyrus the Red. He was actually my pick for most likely too. He's FAST, and very scary. Uses a rapier, and you don't want to let him cut you."


"I assume I should probably worry about the same sort of issues as the Hall?" I asked as I leaned back in my chair. "Light cuts with blood powers would be easy enough to counter with something like Belial. Can't cut me if I'm made of rock. How should I approach this? Do I crush him with overwhelming force, or would that make me come across as cocky or insulting?"


Ellie beamed at me. "And you say you aren't any good at politics. An excellent question, little lord. I would suggest you lean on more martial avenues of fighting. A knock down drag out fight is going to leave more of an impression on a group like the Hall of Steel. You could WIN by just blasting him or smashing him with a giant rock hand, but that would only be a win, and not a victory."


"Style and brutality," I repeated her earlier words. "I can do that. Glory is pretty suited for up front battles. And obviously Mornax will protect me from some of the damage. I don't have to avoid THAT do I?"


She snorted. "I said you should engage him head on, not be an idiot. A certain level of sportsmanship just turns into stupidity. You need to make it look good, that doesn't mean you should go into the arena in your underwear. Although speaking of clothes, have you considered replacing that armor? You're coming up on C-rank, and wearing plate mail the same rank as you is kind of pointless given your durability."


"I know," I groaned. "Between my slightly higher Impact and Mornax, nothing C-ranked can hurt me. Wearing all this armor once I rank up will be literally pointless. But B-rank plate isn't cheap, and my grandmother had this custom made for me. I GUESS I could ask mom or grandma to get me something new commissioned, but that feels…pathetic."


Getting help from my family to win the WCP was both inevitable and fine. They were going to benefit from that, and we'd always known it was coming. Asking them to field troops was transactional to an extent, even if I was warmed to know they'd do it even if it wasn't. But running to my mommy to ask her to buy me new clothes because I outgrew my current set was so infantile it made me cringe.


It wasn't even a matter of resentment or any of my old issues, it just would have violated every bit of self respect I had to fail to do something as basic as DRESS myself given everything I'd accomplished.


To my surprise, rather than tell me I was being stupid and prideful, Ellie nodded approvingly. "I get that." I cocked my head in surprised confusion and she just laughed, rolling her eyes. "Wanting to earn your armor with your own two hands is hardly something I'm going to insult you over. I respect the drive. But it won't be easy, even here. Sure, you have your scrolls to rely on, but with the conclave in town you're hardly the only one, and there are bound to be higher ranked candidates with things to offer."


I sighed, slumping back into my seat. "I know. I considered looking into some kind of auction while I was here. I'd dismissed it because I didn't have time with the meetings and all, but since my recruitment efforts will be stalled until the fight…" I glanced at Crell. "Do you know if there's an auction going on around here where I could get a suit of armor? Or at least materials for one. I'd want to do it before the fight, so it would need to be today or tomorrow."


Callie sat up from where she'd been reclining leisurely, her eyes alight like a shark smelling blood in the water. "An Auction?" She asked with interest. "Full of magic items and treasure and-"


"Yes, you loot goblin," I told her with a laugh. "And you'll obviously be coming with me. I'll pass you some scrolls to use as currency so you can get some gear for yourself. Though I hope you don't replace the costume, I really like this one."


She popped to her feet, twirling gracefully, skirt spinning as she swept into a delicate curtsy. "As my lord husband wishes." Her solemn graceful performance is ruined moments later as she bursts into giggles though. My wife is anything but deferential, even if she DOES take my opinions into consideration. I stood, pulling her against me, and she laughed even more deeply as she leaned up for a kiss.


The two of us stood like that, swaying a bit to the low music on in the background of the tavern. They had an acoustic guitarist up on stage, and for a moment it was nice to just ignore the world and dance together.


"Boo!" Ellie called in annoyance. "Come on! Have some respect for the rest of us! The world isn't your fairytale. Act like normal human beings who aren't disgustingly in love."


Callie's giggle came back in force as she pulled away. And she flopped back into her chair with a laugh. "Sorry, sorry. Anyway, the cloak stays, though I might get a new dress if there's something sturdier. I'm sticking with this theme though. Not least of which because a suit of armor would be a nightmare to get on over my wings. So what do you say Crell? You know an auction we could visit?"


His sigh was more than answer enough, but he went on to list a series of possible auctions nearby as I retook my seat. I had to admit, I was excited as hell. It was finally time to get myself some new armor, and I had several ideas of how to pay for it.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We were able to find an auction pretty easily. I wasn't surprised, really, the city was one of only ten on this side of the planet where B-rankers could congregate, and B-rankers were hardly the only ones around. The population of Veltheim was pretty sizable from what I could tell. Several auctions were held regularly, and with the conclave in town, some of the bigger ones had even been moved up.

One of the biggest was what I had been informed was called the Empty Auction. That was where we were right now. "Alright, everyone have your masks?" I reached up to adjust mine, which was somehow sitting perfectly stably on TOP of my normal wooden mask. It was a tiny thing, a simple domino mask made of incredibly thin glass, but somehow, once applied, everything about me just became…immaterial.

Not in the sense that I was less solid, but in the sense that I was completely unimportant in every respect. It was like I had been placed under stealth, but instead of making me invisible, it just kind of disconnected every bit of my being from the consequences of Perception. People could see me, but their brains didn't make a connection between what they saw and anything else. It was like everyone was face blind, but for every sense. It was deeply unsettling to experience, especially once my friends applied theirs, but we were able to key the masks for exclusions, so the rest of us were recognizable once we got past the initial fine tuning.

Benny snorted at me. "Yes, DAD," he said with exaggerated belligerence. "We're not idiots. Now stop stalling so we can go see what kind of crazy shit we're going to buy."

"Don't know how you plan to PAY for said crazy shit," I told him with a laugh. "My budget is one hundred percent dedicated to upgrading my gear. Every ounce of cash I've got is going toward that. Also some cash I don't got. Speaking of which, I have an item to put up for bid. Where do I submit that?" I glanced at Crell, who was scanning the crowd worriedly. My advisor didn't enjoy the blindness that currently afflicted us all. Ironically, for a mythical user of Doubt, he didn't deal well with the sensation himself.

"Hm?" he asked absently. "Oh, sorry. There's a counter over there. What exactly are you putting up for bid?"
Reaching into my ring, I withdrew a sphere. More accurately, a ball of black glass inside which burned a fist sized blue black flame. Heretic fire. Callie turned to stare into it, blinking. "That's…how did you do that? It's not really supposed to stick around like that. It's flame and flame goes out after a while."

"Agares," I said with a grin. "This was…tricky. Not just condensing and shaping the liquid stone into black glass, but you're right, the natural state of the heretic fire is to burn off. I have unnoticeable veins of Void corruption I pulled from your Path laced through it. The heretic fire is burning them off and feeding on them at the same time. It won't last forever, but I tamped down on the burn enough to get a few days out of it."

This thing was technically useless, but in a very real sense it was also priceless. With the Void infiltrating the planet, having access to a heretic flame would be invaluable. And it COULD burn Void taint, as evidenced by the output. If you found and introduced more you could theoretically farm the stuff. It wasn't worth the time investment to someone like me who could just spark it up, but since this stuff could cleanse corrupted areas, people, or objects, to anyone else it would invaluable.

We stopped in front of the window protecting the auction counter from the rest of the hall. The man behind it looked…like nothing. I could see him plain as day, but none of the features I was looking at would stick in my head. Like I'd said. Deeply unsettling.

I set the sphere down on the counter. "Heretic fire," I told him directly. "Anti-void and Void cleansing properties. Highly effective. Starting bid is a single B-ranked chit, but I'm also willing to accept trade for a B-ranked suit of plate, as long as it comes with some adjustments."
He nodded, picking it up and studying it. "Interesting."

"You need to appraise it or something?" I asked him mildly. "And is there a commission fee?" I assumed there was, I just wanted to hurry this up.

"No and yes, respectively," he responded lazily. "We do offer appraisal services, but they cost extra. It is perfectly acceptable to post unappraised goods. Caveat Emptor is in effect, however. Do keep in mind that it is the responsibility of the purchaser to ensure the quality of their goods. Also, should we find out you've lied in your description to drive up the price, your anonymity will be forfeit, and we will turn over details of your location to the buyer."

I snorted. That was classic WCP. Put all the liability on the parties involved and act as an impartial middleman, with just a hint of threat to prevent people from taking advantage. I nodded, then accepted a small tag I would use to claim the proceeds.

Once that was done, we headed into the actual auction hall, claiming a seat near the back. To my surprise, there were some familiar faces, so I squeezed in next to my cousin Alys. Tapping her shoulder, I activated the sharing function of my mask, allowing it to sync to hers and communicate the way my friends had. It said something about Alys that she didn't even hesitate before accepting, and when she saw me, her face lit up. "Sh-"

I covered her mouth quickly. "Whoa there, no names couz'. You can see me now but most people can't. Have to maintain anonymity to the outsiders. What are you doing here?"

She jerked her thumb at the unrecognizable figure behind her, who I could only assume was her bodyguard and boyfriend, Cryton. "My…someone is looking for a weapon. Something big and heavy. How about you?"

"Armor," I shrugged. "I've almost outgrown my current set. Plus, I heard someone is auctioning a sphere of some kind of anti void fire." I lowered my voice conspiratorially. "With the invasion coming up, something like that could be invaluable. I don't think we should spread it around TOO much, but if you have any friends here let them in on it. Anyone who gets it will be able to help us out a lot and it doesn't matter who it is as long as they're on our side right?"

Callie snorted in amusement, giving me a judgemental look. I shot her the mental equivalent of a shrug. Nothing wrong with word of mouth advertising, it wasn't like I was lying, the heretic fire WAS ant Void. I told her as much mentally and she sent back a grudging acceptance that came with lots of mental judgement, but I ignored her.

Alys, of course, all but exploded in joy. Alys was the type of person to make friends with everyone. She had all of Bethy's bubbly personality without any of her edge, and her sheer effervescence made her almost impossible to dislike.

Within five minutes, everyone in the hall knew about the orb, and what it did, and how useful it was, and there was a low murmur of excitement about possibly acquiring it. I was beaming behind my mask, and I made a mental note to put Alys in some sort of PR position in our faction if she joined up. You couldn't buy advertising talent like that.

Soon enough, everyone quieted down as a man took the stage. As with everyone else, I had no idea who he was…but maybe that didn't need to continue. Reaching for my staff without withdrawing it from my soul, I triggered my special ability to bump my skills up a rank and then Dantalion. I winced slightly at the influx of information when it all spilled into my head, but I ignored it, splitting off a parallel to deal with the buildup while I waited to see if that would yield results.

The masks prevented me from seeing anything specific to start, but I was wondering if I could grind through their defensive power. They weren't particularly high ranked. Fielding so many of them meant that it wasn't viable to use B-ranked masks, they were sticking with a simple C-rank design they could mass produce. With the boost from the staff, I was PRETTY sure I could get through eventually. I ignored the parallel while I focused on the auctioneer.

"Welcome guests!" He boomed gregariously. "To the Empty Auction. Here, the outside world is like a mirage, and all that matters are the contents of this stage. By the time you leave, it too will return to emptiness."

My eyes narrowed at that. That was…flowery. Extremely flowery. But more than that, it was the exact kind of nihilistic claptrap that the Void LOVED. I glanced at Callie, who looked similarly uneasy, but we didn't do anything. Being creepy didn't make you a Void infiltrator. Plenty of Ascendants were regular run of the mill creeps, and the darkness and abyssal crowd was dramatic and scary, a combination that Ascendants of all stripes enjoyed. Callie's own family was famous for that imagery back on Callus, despite have no Void ties at all.

I shook it off. I needed to focus. If the Void wanted to pull some shit it wouldn't be now, with a room full of dangerous high ranking threats. Probably. Dantalion might pick something up if I left it running. I tuned back into the auctioneer.

"Now, originally we were planning to have our opening item be a particularly powerful set of magic bracers that grant a massive boost to Might," he said jovially. "But based on the rumblings in the room and some of the whispers that made it to our ears, we've made the decision to move up a new offering." He reached down for the silk cloth draped over the plinth next to him, whipping it off to reveal…my orb.

"Some of you may have heard we recently gained access to this fascinating trinket," the B-rank auctioneer beamed. "This is an orb of "heretic fire". A unique anti Void substance that hasn't been seen in realspace in over five hundred thousand years. It took us quite a bit of effort to dig up the information on this stuff in our data banks. Given the whispers floating around the heirworld of Void infiltrators, I think everyone here can understand the true value of this substance. In fact, we have a live demonstration of exactly what it can do for you here tonight!"

I frowned, not sure what he meant…and then I noticed. Or rather, I started noticing, between one breath and the next. One of the members of the faceless sea of unrecognizable figures became suddenly completely noticeable. He didn't seem to get it at first, but when he saw all the eyes on him, his own flew open in panic.

He shot to his feet, looking around angrily, then snarled up at the B-ranker. "SILENTIUM REVIVERE!" He bellowed, and his eyes flashed blue as he threw back his head, black smoke erupting from his mouth.
But the auctioneer had been waiting for this. He reached down, casually picked up the orb, and chucked it overhand at the C-rank Void agent. It streaked through the air, exploding into a pillar of blue black fire as it lit up the infiltrator, who had already been fully consumed by the fire.

Before the screams could even fade, the man snapped, and the fire just sort of…rewound. It recondensed into the orb, retracing its path to land smoothly in his hand, the interior roaring with a much denser flame. "Now," he said cheerfully. Opening bid as a single B-rank chit, with B-rank intervals. But preference is for a B-rank suit of armor and a complimentary adjustment. Bidding starts…now!" And the whole room exploded with shouts. In his spot on the stage, waiting for the bids to roll in, the auctioneer winked at me. Perhaps I might be able to make something even more interesting out of this visit. But for now, I just had to sit back and rake in the money.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

It was shocking to me that no one seemed at all surprised by the colossal show of power that the auctioneer had just unleashed. They seemed IMPRESSED, don't get me wrong, or at least the people who I could perceive did? I think. Remembering expressions was giving me issues just then, but Callie and the others were definitely impressed, and so was I. But it didn't seem to cause a stir.


Apparently the Void infiltrators had assumed that their tricks would work just as well here as they did in the lower zones, and they had GRAVELY miscalculated. Whoever ran the Empty Auction was NOT associated with the Void, and they didn't think much of people who were.


"Two B-rank chits!" Bethy shouted excitedly. "Guys, that thing is so cool! I totally want one!"


I sighed and rubbed my temples, hissing at her. "Bethy, I MADE that, I can just give you one. Don't BID on it, you might win and we'd miss out on a chance to get a demonstration of my work into the hands of people who might buy more in the future."


She giggled. "Oh, my bad. It's just super cool looking. You better made me one of those later though. But not a ball, that's dumb. You should make me a pair of heels with that cool fire in them, then when we fight Void baddies I can just be like…bam, heel to the face, nerd!" She stopped addressing me directly, seemingly lost in her shoe design fantasy, but I did file away the concept for later, it sounded pretty cool. At least she hadn't had time to do more than a reflexive initial bid.


Still, that drove the price way up for my orb, and I was thrilled with the fervor that seemed to drive all the interested parties after the demonstration. "Three B-rank chits," bellowed one person. "Five!" shouted another. I couldn't make out who any of them were, but it was clear they were all determined to win the bid.


Sadly, by this point things were out of my hands. All I could do was sit back and watch as they drove the price higher and higher. Sadly, while this was definitely interesting and useful, it was still a D-rank item, and a relatively niche one at that. This was a B-rank auction attended by some of the richest people in the younger generation of the WCP, and many of them had much more important things to buy than experimental Void fire orbs.


Finally, the bidding wound down, and I managed to sell the orb for a whopping two hundred seventy five B-ranked chits. Sadly, I didn't get any armor offers. That wasn't completely unexpected. The price had spiked, but a full set of plate mail would have cost much more than the orb had gone for. I'd been hoping someone would trade out of desperation, but it was looking like I was going to be stuck paying retail.


That was unfortunate, but also not the worst thing in the world. I could save a lot of money if I just bought the materials for scrolls and then paid a smith to make the suit of armor for me custom. Material cost was the big money sink in cases like this, so I just had to figure out what kind of metal I wanted to use. The only real downside was that I almost definitely wouldn't have the suit before the duel.


"Well," said the auctioneer with a clap of his hands. "That was certainly a bracing start to an excellent evening. Now, with our surprise entry out of the way, let's return to our regularly scheduled programme. Our first item for auction, the Horn of Annuvin. A summoning object that creates undead soldiers bound to the will of the user."


He gestured grandly and the podium where the orb had been burst into flames, the fire dying down nearly instantly to reveal a massive black horn.


To my surprise, my Dantalion scan was able to easily sweep over it, presumably because it was the only non shielded item in the room. The masks disguised everyone in here, and I was working on cracking them, but the actual objects for sale apparently weren't covered. I assumed this was intentional, the ability to use information skills adding a layer of transparency to the proceedings, but it meant I was able to learn a bit about the item, and it was a fascinating bit of study.


Dantalion was at C-rank still, and the item in question was as well. I was able to learn a few interesting enchantments as well as more deeply understand the horn. The stat distribution was interesting. Creation, of course, and Fantasy, but there was also a strangely large amount of Vitality involved in the construction. I was so wrapped up in the study that I missed the actual auction, and before I could really parse everything, it was gone.


The next few objects were fascinating. An umbrella that shed energy like rain, a knife that could only cut flesh and passed through everything else, and then a paired blade that did the opposite. A club that could change its weight mid swing, a shield that magnetically attracted long range attacks, a pair of boots that could walk on moonlight and leave no trace on the ground.


I learned a lot about the local enchantment styles, the distribution of all those stats and how everything worked was fascinating, and I made a mental note to pass this on to Benny somehow.


Eventually though, a new item was posted, one that caught my attention immediately. "Now, for the last item on tonight's docket, we have a special offering." He gestured again, and the podium burned, when the flames faded, there was a pair of what looked like wristbands. Except there were no hinges, only a pair of very small keyholes, and a thin, nearly filament sized chain connected them together.


"These are the shackles of desire," he announced grandly. "Originally used to bind a Greater Djinn whose name is lost to time. Steeped in the powerful wish granting energy of a being whose very nature was part of the inspiration for the Wishmaster's signature skill. An A-rank item of power with endless uses. The starting bid is an A-rank chit, or an item of equivalent value. Let the bidding…begin!"


My eyes were glued to the shackles. They were small. Relatively useless to most, but not to me. They were A-rank, but not big enough to use in a suit of armor, if I could even WEAR one of those. Regardless, I didn't have the money to commission an A-rank suit…but if I melted those down and alloyed them with some powerful B-rank materials I could presumably make something pretty special, especially if I was willing to spend a few of Nat's scrolls to fine tune the metals I used.


"Two A-rank chits!" I called, as I hit my feet. I had a bit over two and a half right now after the sale, but I could tell that wasn't enough. I started to panic slightly. Someone raised the bid to three, and I started adding in scrolls. My scrolls, despite being powerful, however, were D-rank.


"Ten A-rank chits," came a clear voice to my right. My eyes widened and I turned to see Bethy, a solemn expression on her usually cheerful face, staring up at the stage. She saw me looked and grinned at me. "What? I can tell you really want this. You're my bestie, I gotta help out where I can!" She winked at me, but her smile wilted slightly, her tone taking on a warning cast. "But I only have fifteen A-rank chits on me. Daddy doesn't give me that much pocket money, and most of it goes to my clothes budget."


I grinned at her in excitement. "Bethy, if you win this, I will make you as many pairs of those heels as you want. Hell, I'll build you a damn shoe palace!"


She squealed with excitement. "Oh that sounds so cool! I run out of places to put them all, honestly. I've got entire closets full of spatial rings stuffed with shoes, but they just look so lame on display like that."


I suppressed a horrified shudder and thanked the gods that my wife was just obsessed with treasure in general and didn't have an expensive shoe habit.


Bethy continued her bidding war, eleven, then twelve. She finally managed to bully the last bidder out of the running at thirteen. That represented over a thousand B-rank chits at a B-rank auction where most of the interested parties were candidates who hadn't even reached C-rank yet. I let out a sigh of relief as she was declared the winner, and Callie threw herself over my lap to give Bethy a big hug as she expressed her gratitude.


It said something about how wrapped up in all this I'd been that I missed the white knuckled grip Callie had on my arm. I knew how worried she was in general, but I hadn't realized how focused she was on upgrading my armor. I could feel the relief and gratitude through the bond, and I finally understood just how scared she'd been for me. Not just about this duel, but the whole invasion was one big nightmare for her.


As she pulled away from Bethy, I put my arms around her and gave her a right squeeze, sending my love and reassurance through the bond. My heart ached for her. This Void stuff was scary. Knowledge and feelings she didn't understand, enemies who would stop at nothing to see her dead, a connection to a god she'd never heard of. And now to see that same nightmare turn its eyes on the planet where nearly all her closest friends and family were.


I wished I could have gotten her something fun to mess around with, but none of the items had really been her kind of thing, and I couldn't justify spending so much on generic loot. Still, I was as excited as she was about the shackles, and I couldn't wait to see what kind of supplementary mats I could get for the suit.


We all got up and headed out of the auction, back to the front counter where I turned in my tag to collect my auction profits. Two hundred seventy five B-rank chits. It should be enough to pay off some of my material needs and commission my armor as long as I provided the mats.


I hoped. I was going to need a particularly talented smith, or an A-ranker, in order to handle those shackles. To my surprise, when I submitted the tag, they didn't just give me back the chits, they also handed me a matte black card with an empty golden circle on it. There didn't appear to be any other writing on the thing, but I was curious what secrets it held.


After that, Bethy picked up the shackles and passed them over, and we all headed back to the boarding house. As we climbed into the car, I mentally indexed the information I'd gained from Dantalion. Inside my library, books began to fill. Not just with information on enchantments, but some on the functions and mechanisms of those glass masks. I had several ideas for how to improve Murmur using the information I'd gathered there.


As we drove, we chatted with Bethy, my sister, Ellie, and the others, and I couldn't help the warm glow of contentment in my belly. Tonight had been a big win, but more importantly, it had been something we could all do together. It reminded me of what that auction back on Callus could have been, just without Mordaunt and her crew messing things up for us. In some ways, knowing I had a fight tomorrow helped make it even easier. Until I won there was no pressure on politics or recruitment. All I needed to do was step into the arena. There was something to be said for enjoying the simple things. Maybe Abel had been a bad influence on me.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

As I suspected, Crell had zero leads on how to find an A-rank blacksmith here. Even a particularly talented B-rank seemed out of the question at the moment, sadly. So I just headed to bed after the exciting evening, albeit with the caveat of having spent several hours working on plans for Bethy's shoe palace, which she redesigned at least six times and was STILL adding things to when I went to sleep.


Still, I slept like a baby, despite my excitement, and rose to greet the day with gusto (after stocking up on scrolls). I leapt out of bed, full of moxie and gusto and whatever other words old people use to describe being super pumped, and then…nothing.


"Shane, what the fuck are you doing?" My grumpy wife asked me, her voice muffled by the pillow her head was stuck under. Only one of her blue black eyes was visible, and it was narrowed in annoyance. "It's…" she flicked a hand, checking her scan ring. "It's four in the morning. Why are you awake? Why am I awake? Why does four in the morning even EXIST? Do we really need two of these?"


I coughed in embarrassment. "Um…sorry hon. I was just excited. My fight is today. But much later today. I guess I slept pretty lightly. Go back to bed. I'll go…work out or something."


My hands were near shaking with pent up energy. I felt…charged. Maybe because for the first time since getting here, I felt like I was taking my destiny into my own two hands. All the faction stuff was great, but there was something about punching your will into reality fist over fist that just made it more visceral.


She stared at me for a moment then snorted, blowing hair from her face as she sat up. "It's so weird how you can have this much experience with our crazy lives and still be so dumb and sweet," despite the harsh words, her smile was soft and affectionate. "I hope you never lose this part of you. The stupid punchy moron who followed me into an underground fight club on our first date complaining about how scary my bike was."


"Ok, first of all, our first date was me cooking you dinner," I told her firmly. "And second of all I did NOT say your bike was scary. I said your DRIVING was scary. And I stand by that."


She hummed with indecision. "Hmmm, nope. Sorry babe. That was our first date. I didn't know it yet myself, but I'd already been won over by what a big dumb puppy you were. You were so cute when we first met, all star struck and flustered. And don't try to claim you weren't need I remind you of your collection of Nightstrike novelty mugs?"


"See, this makes me not want to tell you things," I said accusingly, pointing at her archly. "You're never going to let me forget the mugs."


Leaning over on her palm, she watched me happily. "Not even for a second. Love you."


"I love you too," I laughed as I turned to throw on some clothes. Not my armor, just a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. It felt weird dressing in cloth. "Now you coming downstairs while I cook breakfast? Seems like you've officially crossed the event horizon for going back to bed. I know you well enough to know that once you can form coherent words you're up for good."


She snorted. "Your fault, monster. You will carry me downstairs and make me crepes. With mixed berries." She waved her hand grandly as she announced my punishment, and it was hard not to laugh at how cute she was when she was being bossy. I managed though, I didn't want to ruin her bit.


"As my lady wishes," I said in an exaggerated baritone. "You chariot awai-" I was cut off by an angry pounding on the wall.


"If you two assholes don't go back to sleep or go downstairs I will fucking STAB you!" Bellowed Benny from the next room over. "It's FOUR in the morning Shane!" I winced, and Callie covered her mouth to stifle a giggle as I swept over and picked her up.


She was wearing a set of big fluffy pajamas covered in… I frowned at them. "Are those phoenixes? Wait, are those ARCHIE? Where did you even get those?" I triggered Murmur before speaking, just to cover the sound as I carried her out of the room, but I still ended up keeping my voice low out of habit.


Blushing, she cleared her throat. "I had Bethy make them. I thought it would be cute. Since Archie is your companion or whatever." She gestured to her back. "Plus I needed a custom pair to let the wings out. These things are gorgeous, but they are a PAIN to sleep with."


I let her feel through the bond how adorable I thought that was, but I didn't say it. One of the benefits of the bond is that we can be honest deep down without having to say embarrassing stuff out loud. We reached the kitchen and I dropped her on a stool as I fired up the stove, then started pulling ingredients from my ring for crepes.


"So, I was thinking we could spar after breakfast," I told her as I mixed the batter. "Nothing insane, obviously, just some light working out to keep me sharp, then maybe have Jessie juice me up to clear out any soreness or exhaustion. Want to be in top form for my fight."


She smirked at me. "You sure? We haven't really sparred since I got my trait. You might not be able to handle me."


"Are you sure you're all the way awake?" I asked her with concern. "Because clearly you're dreaming. You're pretty tough now, but those flames work best on Void creatures and infiltrators, and I'm neither." She arched a brow at me in challenge, and I grinned back. "Oh that's it, better eat fast because we have a date with the sparring ring. I'm going to make you eat your words. Which to be fair shouldn't be hard, since you consume anything I put near your mouth in the morning." She just flipped me off, rolling her eyes as she tried to quell a smile.


I left her to go get ready to fight while I cleaned up the food, and then headed out to the training yard in the center of the boarding house, a spatially expanded courtyard built into the center. When I arrived though, I realized that we weren't alone. Callie had made a pit stop to pick up one of my B-rankers. At my pulse of confusion, she shrugged. "I was thinking about it, and I feel like you can do better to prepare than working with me. We've trained together a lot, and I'm strong, but I'm no duellist."


That was ironic, considering the origin of our bond, but she wasn't wrong. "You sure you're free to train with us little people, Alanna?" I asked the sword mistress. "I'm sure you have better things to do."


I didn't know Alanna very well, honestly. She and Crell were semi-close, and she'd been one of Skartaris's ministers in the dungeon. She'd hit B-rank immediately after leaving, and was one of the few B-rankers I had that had achieved a Mythical skill, and a weapon skill no less.


She was surprisingly chill for such a powerful and intense person. She shrugged. "You're the boss. I haven't been doing too much since we got here. Crell has his sneaky games and they're useful right now, but my skillset is more hack and slash than wine and dine. If I can help, I'm happy to play trainer for the day."


Nodding, I summoned my staff. "Alright, well, if you both think this is a good training method, I'm in. The two most likely candidates for my battle are sword users. Impart to me your wisdom, oh maker of glorious battle."


Snorting, Alanna drew her sword. It was…jarring. Not because of the blade itself, but because the motion was so smooth, so practiced, that I literally didn't parse that it was happening. It wasn't a speed thing, more that her body flowed through the action so seamlessly that I couldn't pick out where each individual movement started.


"So, sword duels are both more and less complex than most people think," she said as she started to pace a circle around me. My hands tightened on my staff, preparing to react. "There are an infinite number of styles, variations, and techniques that can be performed with a blade. But they can all be broken down into two subcategories. Commanders and conductors."


"Commanders," she said conversationally as her arm blurred. "Control the space. The sword dominates, conquers all within its reach. Commanders pressure, they bully, they clash head on." Her blade clashed against my staff in a dozen places, forcing me to adjust, and I stumbled back, trying to counter as best as I could.


Suddenly though, the pattern changed. Where she had previously been overwhelming me with a volley of strikes, once I started trying to counter, the sphere of control she'd established turned…softer. "Conductors," she continued. "Make use of negative space. Deflection. The commander conquers, the conductor leads.


"In terms of philosophy, these two things may seem similar on the surface," she cautioned as she switched between them seamlessly. Not just one style either, there was about a dozen different sword arts on display from what I could tell, maybe more, but they all fit into those two categories. "Commanders control their own advance, and conductors control yours."


I scowled, trying to keep up. "This is very interesting," I told her frustratedly. "But I don't see how it helps me here. I can't learn to apply this in the short time I have."


"Of course not," she laughed. "But that's not why I'm showing it to you. Understanding the warp and weft of bladework is a finely tuned skillset. But you can learn to recognize the base elements. Once you know what you're looking for, you can learn to disrupt it. Each of the two main styles can be countered by its opposite. No D-ranker is going to have a particularly large library of styles. They'll be focused on one thing."


"So if I can identify which type they are, I employ the other type to trip them up," I said in understanding.


She nodded, then her arm blurred, and I felt myself be basically brutalized by the flat of her blade, sending me stumbling away to collapse to the ground, wincing in pain. "Of course, that's easier said than done. If you want to be able to do anything, you need at least a basic competence learning to parse and break sword styles. But THAT I can help you learn in a few hours. Probably."


Groaning, I climbed to my feet. My armor wasn't broken, somehow, or even dented, despite her managing to strike me through it. Just to be safe I triggered Mornax, but I somehow doubted it would save me.


I took stock of my staff art, the various styles I had at my disposal, and then considered what she'd done. I triggered Dantalion, because what could help me learn faster or better than that? Then I triggered my waltz and exploded toward her, deciding to take the initiative to draw out her sword arts ore thoroughly.


That was a mistake. I was on the ground within seconds, and she nodded with interest. "Not a bad plan. Try it again. We don't stop until you manage to break one style of each type." I groaned again as I climbed to my feet, glaring at her despite not really being that upset. She just chuckled. "You know, I'm glad you asked me to help with this," she told my wife. "Most fun I've had in ages." Why were all high ranking Ascendants sadists?

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Sometimes a blur of pain, sometimes of tension. Alanna was a brutal taskmaster, but an effective one. I learned a LOT about countering swordmasters. I wouldn't say I was in any way prepared to become one myself, but when someone with a Mythical Skill dedicates a day to teaching you the basics, you pick them up pretty quick. Finally though, I was escorted to the arena where I was going to face my opponent.


It had been a long time since I'd been in an arena like this. The last one I remembered was the tournament back on Callus before our first departure. Despite all I'd been through, and how far I'd come, there was something…disquieting about that wait before I stepped out to face my enemy.


Above me, I could hear the roar of the audience, the pounding of feet on stands as they cheered and bayed for blood. Whether it be mine or my foe, I doubted most of them cared. It should have been terrifying, or disgusting, but it felt…freeing. No one here cared about me. No one had expectations beyond what they would have for any combatant. I would win. Or I would lose. Wyndham, god descendant, none of it mattered. As Abel had once told me, all blood looks the same when it's splashed on hot sand.


And the sand WAS hot. I could feel the heat sizzling up from below as I stepped out into the arena. They called my name, and I emerged into a sea of bone white powder. Hell, maybe it WAS bone. I could check, but I didn't really care to know.


"Ladies and gentlemen!" Boomed a voice from all around me. "Today, we have a special treat. A powerful Ascendant of the Wyndham family. Son of Elijah Wyndham, the Wish Devil, and Sasha Anders, the Star Queen. Great-grandson of Black Sorrow herself, and defier of the Void. A warrior of skill and renown of such magnitude that he earned the fealty of the Vampire's youngest daughter. Shane Wyndham, but they call him SOLOMON!"


In normal circumstances, I'd have tried look imposing, or dignified, or something politically savvy. But down here, in the hear and with the glaring light of the red sky reflecting up from the white sand around me, I had no need or use for words. I knew what these people wanted. I raised one fist above my head, and let out a primal bellow of bloodlust, infused with the demonic voice of Mephistopheles.


My roar echoed off the stands and the walls behind them, overtaking the baying howls of the crowd, and there was silence as every single watched froze under the sheer weight of my wordless declaration. One single beat of silence, before they howls and cheers redoubled, rising like an erupting volcano as they burst forth to roll over the arena, shaking the sand down to the individual grains.


"And in the other corner, an expression that makes no godsdamned sense because these arenas are all ROUND, you know him, you love him. Cyrus the RED! Cyrus is, of course hometown hero, a personal chosen representing the Lord of the Hall of Steel Himself, and a frequent combatant in these arenas in the D-tier bracket. Cyrus is, of course, undefeated at his own rank, and we've been informed that today is a very special day for him. You see, if Cyrus wins this fight, Lord Fade has agreed to compromise on the rank limits necessary to enter the Hall of Steel. For the first time in living memory, a D-ranker will be admitted to the Heartless Hundred. Every child's dream is within Cyrus's grasp, so you can bet he'll fight to the bitter end for this victory. Good look Lord Wyndham, you're going to need it."


I glared around me, tapping into Mephistopheles as my voice boomed out. "If I find out that you're trying to boost my opponent's morale because you've placed a bet on this fight, I'm going to find you and kick your ass."


There was an awkward pause, then the voice cleared its throat. "In other news, all proceeds from tonights victory among the staff will be donated to the Aendarl Aren's widows and orphans fund. Let the fight begin, or whatever, I don't know," he petered off toward the end muttering under his breath as I smirked at the direction change.


Of course, I was already crossing the hot sand, heading for the center as a small man with dark hair and electric blue eyes strode to meet me.


Cyrus was surprisingly compact. I expected a big hulking brute, but the man was every bit the duellist I'd been warned about. Despite that, he wore a heavy dark red plate that glimmered like freshly spilled blood. We stopped about fifteen feet apart. "I'm guessing you really are going to go all out for this" I asked him casually.


He nodded, his expression grave. "I am. Are you prepared?"


My staff smacked into my palms, called from within my soul. I triggered Glory, and a boxy razor sharp blade extended from the end as my body filled with power. Behind me, my wings spread out in a display of force and ferocity as my Waltz roared to life in my veins, calling out to begin the dance.


"Like the man said," I drawled. "Let the fight begin." I blurred, vanishing in an explosion of black flame, appearing behind him. To my shock, his hands clamped down above his head, rising to meet a tide of blood that flowed over his armor, condensing into a colossal sword that intercepted my blow as I aimed it at his lower spine.


My black flame spear ate into the blood, but more of the red liquid poured down his blade to reinforce the damage, effectively neutralizing the attack.


He spun on his heel, the blade reforming to change attack angles, perfectly sliding into my blind spot…only to be deflected by the butt of my staff as I anticipated the maneuver and moved to counter his rhythm. Commander. His style was that of a Commander to use Alanna's terminology.


Overwhelming force, brought to bear on the world around him as he attempted to conquer the space around him and force me to meet him on his own terms.


His sword flashed as he pressed the attack. Literally, it condensed into some kind of gemstone state, the weight dragging it down as the razor's edge split the air…and then nothing else, as I drove forward at his back with my spear. Double Trouble had distracted him just long enough to commit to a blow. I grinned widely as I whirled my spear toward his spine again. I was going for disabling without actual death. Jessie could heal any long term damage.


I was so confident in the attack that I almost missed it when his red armor shifted again, spikes of red metal emerging from his back. My Danger Sense had been screaming non stop, so I was forewarned, and stepped back fluidly to dodge the attack. But Cyrus was better than I'd given him credit for.


Whether he knew I could sense danger or it was just dumb luck, he'd pushed back at me with two attacks. As I'd dodged the spike barrage, his sword had dropped, and then dissolved into liquid. When I moved to avoid the spikes, the whip of blood snapped taught, tripping me. Of the dozen spikes, eleven of them withdrew, the last one extending twice as far, and then whipped out to spear into my gut.


I screamed as my lower abdomen was drowned in molten fire, my staff snapping down towards the whip around my ankle, severing the tendril. As I pulled away though, I felt a tearing sensation as the red spike he'd used to punch through my armor shifted inside me, sprouting hooks and barbs.


The jagged edges caught on my abdominal muscles and what felt like something much more vital and TORE as I yanked myself off it, stumbling away with a gurgled scream. My staff dismissed, my hands shot down to my stomach. I triggered Zagan and Double Trouble again, and was treated to a front row seat of Cyrus whirling in an impossibly tight rotation as his blade reformed, whipping it through the neck of the illusion so fast that I think it took him a second to realize he hadn't just beheaded me.


Stumbling away, I flooded my abdomen with green flame, sighing with relief. The purification wiped away all the poison from the damaged organs, and the life force helped staunch the internal bleeding. I was not in good shape, but it was better than nothing.


That had been an impossible attack. The speed of it. Not just the blood but the movement. He was moving too quickly for me to match up to. I'd assumed he might be faster, but this was beyond a bit of Might difference. It took me a second to figure it out and then I cursed. Blood. Not just the stuff on his armor. Looking close, I could see a red haze surrounding him, his skin flushed. I'd thought it was the heat, but paying closer attention he seemed to be in some sort of overclock state, burning his blood to enhance his physical body.


Stumbling to my feet, I stared him down as he turned to look at me. "You're fast, and strong," he said grimly. "And tricky. But that's all it is. Tricks. You're no warrior. No true combatant. Though I'm impressed you're not curled up in a ball weeping on the ground. Your pain tolerance is astonishing."


My mask receded like it did when I ate, and I spat a bloody chunk of something I'd rather not think about onto the sand. "Practice makes perfect," I rasped. "But you're talking like you've already won this? You think it'll be that easy?"


"That blade shredded several of your organs," he said idly. "Your blood is most likely turning septic. It might not kill you, but it'll take some time to purge it all, and until you do, your body isn't going to be in much shape to fight. In fact, the longer we talk, the more unsteady you're becoming."


Which explained the chat. He was stalling. My mask had reformed, so I didn't have to hide my smile as I triggered my staff to boost Zagan to C-rank, flooding my body with healing fire that actually knitted it back together. Zagan was hands down one of my most overpowered forms, the intense specialization allowing it to operate far above its level, but at C-rank it was basically enough to close any wound that wasn't made by an ACTUAL B-ranker, or at least a weapon of that level.


Meanwhile, Cyrus was staring me down, expecting me to be getting weaker and weaker. I triggered Glory again, surging Zagan's vitalizing power into my body while it was still C-rank to both boost my regeneration and flood my body with strength. Cyrus noticed, nodding solemnly. "Well, it seems you've decided to die here. One last exchange then?"


I spun my staff experimentally, the black blade of the spear hissing as it ate away part of the white sand beneath my feet. As I did, I triggered another domain. Limbo. We'd been locked into a single tradeoff now, and that meant very limited futures. I kept up the spin, the blade of my spear cutting through potential outcomes one by one, narrowing the exchange down to a single possibility. With an explosion of black fire, I moved, appearing in front of Cyrus, my spear flickering out.


He'd been waiting, his blade splitting into five different spearing attacks aimed at my vitals. But I'd seen that. I turned my body. Some of the blades passed me by, some sliced into non essential body parts and my spear slipped into his gut, narrowly missing any vital organs as the edge clipped his spine, severing the nerves that held his body up.


Letting the blade fade, I allowed Glory to lapse as my still running C-ranked Zagan form got to work patching up my injuries. Cyrus stared down at the staff lodged in his gut, the only thing holding him up, and I didn't bother saying anything. I levered the staff to the side, sending his limp form skidding across the sand, twitching and unable to move but still alive and fixable, and raised my weapon in the air. The screams of the crowd were all the last word I needed to get in.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The first person to reach me as I left the arena was, to my complete lack of surprise, my wife, who hit me like a bulldozer and nearly took me off my feet, her arms clamping down around me so hard my armor groaned. "What the HELL were you DOING!" She bawled into my chest as she tried her hardest to squeeze me to death.


I didn't have any arguments there. I hadn't screwed up, a fight is a fight and that one had been a good one, but this was the most injured I'd been in front of her in the years we'd been together. Even if it was brief injury and I'd patched it up fast, seeing the person you love most in the world get eviscerated probably sucked about as much as BEING eviscerated, which, spoiler alert, sucked real fucking bad.


So I just held her, letting her press her face into my neck and ground herself in the knowledge that I was ok as she muttered random nonsense about what an idiot I was. I could feel her desperate fear through the bond, and I understood it. The mere thought of watching someone tear into my wife like Cyrus had done to me turned my blood to ice.


Eventually, I just stood up, liting her with me, and folded my wings around us for privacy as I walked us over to a bench to sit down. After about ten minutes, she came up for air, drying the tears she'd been very careful to try to hide before she let herself be seen by the others.


"Well," she said in a rough voice, clearing her throat. "That was certainly dramatic. But we won."


"That you did," came a familiar voice. I turned to find Fade standing politely off to one side. He nodded at me in acknowledgement. "Well fought, little lord. You've got steel in your veins. That was a nasty injury, and healing or not, being able to fight through it shows that you're not an easy man to put down." He grinned humorlessly. "I respect that."


My wife glared at him. "I suppose it must be an important quality for you to test for it so thoroughly. But let me make something clear. Now that we won and you're on our side, if you ever put my husband in a position to be hurt for no reason again, I'm going to drop you into your own shadow and let you plummet through eternal darkness until you starve to death." She gave him a hard, wintery smile. "Respectfully."


"You should've let her fight," Fade commented to me mildly. "She's much scarier than you."


"True," I grinned. "But I didn't want to traumatize the audience. I'm trying to make alliances here, not give everyone here permanent nightmares."


We both laughed, and Callie pouted, despite me feeling through the bond that she was proud that someone like Fade recognized her as a threat. Because I could smell the truth, and he hadn't been being nice or condescending. He'd meant that. And he was right.


"So, you proved yourself," he said with an intense gaze. His steely grey eyes shone like drawn blades, the glint off the iris the next best thing to the edge of a knife. "I suppose that means I'm at your service, little lord. What would you have of me?"


Ellie bulled into the middle of my response. Literally, she physically interjected herself between us, glaring at the warrior distrustfully. "Don't get so familiar with the little lord, captain flatware. He's already got a bodyguard. I guess you'll be more useful than that sneaky blabbermouth, but don't get ideas above your station. The little lord is more than a Wyndham, and if you have bad intentions you'll be praying the Wish Devil gets ahold of your soul before my master can get her hands on it."


Fade looked unconcerned, smiling mildly at her provocation. "Peace, milady, I meant no offense. I offered only my service, in whatever capacity it might be required."


"I appreciate the sentiment, Ellie," I told her firmly. "But I'm the one who decides where he's going to be assigned. Not you. I'm half tempted to partner him with you, but I feel like that would be more punishment for him than for you. Now that we're moving into more official meeting territory, however, I WILL need my B-rankers on hand, at least the ones with the most combat power. Fade, you'll be on bodyguard detail alongside Alanna. Ellie, I know you're on assignment for my mom, so you and Felicity will stick with me too. Four guards doesn't seem too overboard."


My gaze flicked back to Fade. "Now, what can you do about setting up a few interviews? I understand you're a power player here. How many B-rankers can you get on my side."


"Less than you'd like," he shrugged. "Being king of the hill rarely endears me to others. Not to mention your cousins have been making overtures for some time now. I can get use another two or three smaller factions, or at least arrange contact. Several of them are large organizations, though mostly heavier on the rank and file. More C-rankers than B. But the few B-rankers they have are excellent warriors. Quality over quantity."


I nodded. "Set it up. The conclave starts tomorrow, and I want to go into the meeting with my roster as stacked as I can get it."


With more than a thousand people in my entourage, I was already a force to be reckoned with, but at this point in the succession war, some of the higher ranked cousins had been active in this zone since the beginning and had a big headstart. I knew there was at least one or two B-ranked candidates, even if I wasn't sure exactly where they were.


"It shall be done," he said with a solemn nod. "If it wouldn't trouble you, I'd prefer to meet this potential partner as well. I like to take the measure of a warrior before I trust them at my back."


"You will, and we need to get your contract signed," I agreed.


He sent one of his nearby warriors off to deliver messages and we all headed back to the boarding house. To my surprise, Fade looked…hungry. I raised a brow at him, not that he could see it. "Why do you seem so excited?"


"When I met you yesterday," he said contemplatively. "I couldn't see an ounce of the blade about you. Not in your stance, in your bearing, not even in your Path, despite how muddled it seems to be. But now, there's something of the sword about you. It's faint, only a whisper, but someone has sharpened an edge I didn't know was there. Nothing so complete as real training. More like they gave you very detailed instruction on a VERY specific dueling related concept in preparation for your match."


Which was exactly what Alanna had done. She'd essentially mimicked enough beginner combat styles (albeit ones cranked up a notch) so I could understand what I was up against.


He didn't continue talking about it, considering that answer enough I supposed. But I got it. Fade was a sword maniac. He ate slept and BREATHED the blade. Honed steel was his very blood, and seeing what Alanna could do…


Those who advanced beyond their realm, especially at such a high rank, were astonishingly rare. Only her stranding in the dungeon and the suppression therein had pushed her to polish that skill as she had. Most Ascendants wouldn't waste the time when they could just rank up. No wonder he was so excited. I wondered if he'd have been so willing to accept the loss if he hadn't discovered that little fact about me. Or maybe he'd known from the beginning somehow. Maybe this whole thing was an excuse to set up this very fight.


I shook that thought away. Mythologizing my opponents (or allies) was as bad as underestimating them. Not everyone had been planning everything all along.


When we reached the boarding house, we found Alanna practicing in the training yard. Kind of. She was doing some kind of exercise, her blade drawn, poised outward and still as stone, held parallel to the ground. Leaves fell from above, landing on the blade, and she seemed to be trying to cut them on impact without moving.


Her eyes were closed, but they opened when we arrived. "Little lord," she beamed. "Suppose you won? Though not easily. That armor is shredded. Seems like you might need some more instruction."


"I think I'll just buy better armor," I told her dryly. "And cheat more. Duels are much less fun than they seem when you're starting out. If I hadn't had a point to make I'd have turned the whole arena into a lake of burning ash and drowned him in it. I'll avoid fighting by the rules in the future. I don't think it's my thing."


As exciting as the idea had been after so long, I found duels restrictive and annoying. I saw Callie beam at me in approval at that sentiment, and even Fade snorted.


I expected Alanna to correct me, but she just grinned. "Your first real lesson then," she laughed. "You're not a duellist little lord, don't act like one. You proved your competence today, next time prove your wisdom."


"I don't think I have any to prove," I said wryly. "Do you know where I could get some on the cheap? I'm low on cash what with the armor needing to be made."


She laughed, then turned to Fade. "Can I help you, friend? You're doing an awful lot of staring."


"We are to be partners," he said with a smile. "And before then, opponents, assuming you're willing. I'd love to test the edge of such a deadly opponent." He stared at the sword, held perfectly still in midair, split leaves falling around and over it despite the edge never moving even a micron.


She stared at him for a moment longer, then nodded. "Watch closely, little lord," she said with a wolfish grin. "You could learn quite a bit."


The two of them took up their positions across the yard. Not too close, I noticed, not as close as I'd have expected from a melee battle. I realized why quickly afterwards. Both of them had chosen manifestation when they were starting out. Alanna moved faster, her blade manifesting above her like a piercing rainbow, blurring into existence as she struck out at her foe.


Her Path was stronger. Mythical, not Legendary, and it was clear. To my surprise though, Fade didn't seem bothered. He might not have broken through, but he was MUCH higher into B-rank than she was, maybe at the peak, and he had the Chronicle to show for it. His own manifested blade whirled up, deflecting hers with a spark through the ether. He followed up, and so did she, their blades meeting and clashing the air and space disturbed by the clashes.


They moved so fast the blade shadows overlapped, the entire training ground vanishing under waves of ripples and flashing metal. The swords sang as they clashed, the reports blurring together into a high, clear tone of victory and challenge, the hum of the steel singing of power and glory as the two blademasters attacked


Despite not being able to follow the specifics (this was well above my level) I triggered Dantalion and Piece of Mind. Inside my library, a parallel recorded the clash in a tome for me to study later, even as my main mind watched on in wonder.


They fought like that for hours, operating so fast, so seamlessly, that I was half afraid an eyelash in someone's eye would be the difference between life and death.


Callie sidled up next to me, and I put an arm around her shoulder as we watched, awed at the spectacle. "You know," I murmured in her ear. "This was definitely worth it. Gut stab or not." She snorted, but didn't agree. That was fine, I was feeling much better personally. At least for now.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"So, we're looking at twenty five hundred total?" I asked Crell as Callie checked my tie. "Twenty five B-rankers, two hundred C-rankers, and twenty three hundred D-rank, give or take. Can we fit them all in the boarding house?"

He shrugged. "Probably not, but we don't need to. The conclave shouldn't last more than a day or two, and the locals have their own locations to use as a base."

"I don't like this," my wife said worriedly. "I trust Alanna and Fade well enough under contract, but we barely know them. You'll be all alone there. I should be going. Or at least take Carmichael with you." She tugged on the lapels on my suit anxiously. "You don't even have armor on at this point."

I caught her hands in mine gently. "I'll be FINE, Cal. But the conclave has been called for today, and only candidates and two guards are allowed. I won't be alone. Nadia, Charlie, Derrick, and Alys are all coming with. Each of them will have their own pair of B-rankers on standby. Given how scary Fade is we should have the edge in quality, and between all of us I'm not worried about my safety."

"I know," she sighed tiredly. "And I know that this meeting is important. You all need to pull together to deal with the Void incursion."

She gave me a fierce hug, then pulled back, grabbing either side of my face, staring up into my eyes even through my mask."If you need my heretic flame, take it," she told me intensely. "Any time, just pull on the bond and I'll give you everything."

I let my mask recede, then leaned down to kiss her softly. "You always do."

"Not the time for this," Fade said dryly. "We have to get going if we're going to meet up with the others before we enter."

I cleared my throat, nodded, and then gave my wife one last squeeze before stepping away. "Wish me luck," I said cheerfully. "Literally, if you feel up to it. Nat should have some spare scrolls around." I shot her a wink, then turned and headed down to the street. Fade and Alanna trailed behind me like menacing shadows. The two of them had fought for hours last night, only stopping to sleep, and even that for much less time than a lesser Ascendant would have needed.

When I woke up this morning, I headed down to check on them after stockpiling my scrolls for the day, the two of them had sort of fallen into sync. They weren't fighting anymore, just sitting around reading the paper and drinking coffee, but there was a strange sense of understanding between them. It reminded me of Callie and I at the beginning, though I didn't know if they had actually achieved a Skill.

Still, I felt better about them guarding me than I would have otherwise, and I was perfectly comfortable sitting in silence as we drove to the meetup location outside the public park where we were supposed to be holding the conclave.

I was the last one there, and when we climbed out, I was greeted by an excited Alys and an eager Derrick. Nadia and Charlie were more sedate, but I could tell they were energized by the intensity of their gaze. Their guards stood behind them, none of them recognizable to me, which wasn't a shock. I hadn't met any of their B-rankers, though Fade gave one of them a nod that told me he was probably local.

"Evening friends," I said with a grin. "Everyone ready for some good old fashioned family fun?"

Alys looked ecstatic. "Oh, definitely! This is going to be so great! We can catch up with all the family members we never see, talk, get some food. I hear cousin Aaron is going to be grilling. Plus Vince isn't here, and he was responsible for five of the last seven stabbings at family related events, so our odds of avoiding an incident are really good!"

Derrick let out a relieved sigh. "Oh thank the gods, I lost a huge chunk of money to him at the last branch poker game, and he kept making these REALLY pointed "jokes" about repossessing one of my kidneys."

"Don't be silly," Nadia said with a reassuring smile. "Vince would never stop at just one."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, enough joking around. I need some details on who IS going to be here. I assume you know better than I do?"

Alys nodded brightly. "Of course! Delia is in charge of this conclave. She's B-ranked, and one of the oldest cousins here. Brandon is helping, he's a C-ranker, but he's really connected. His dad is a branch head, and there have been some…implications that he gets preferential treatment. Personally I don't believe it, because cheating is harshly punished, but he's pretty strong."

"Roland is here," Derrick added. "He's a swordmaster. He's B-ranked too, and he's one of the toughest members of the family. He's kind of my role model. Family legend is he only accepts payment in sword Skills and Might stats. He's a total beast. With him around, no one will be starting trouble at this thing unless they're looking to get ventilated."

Charlie added. "Wesley is here. He's my least favorite cousin. He's a sneaky underhanded bastard who never means what he says. He's got a fondness for poisons, so avoid letting him near your drink."

"Catherine and Sarah are both in attendance," Nadia chimed in. "They're full sisters, and are kind of like brand ambassadors for their branch. They're professional charmers, masters at making people feel special and appreciated, and they can talk anyone into anything. It's been implied that that they accept payment in people skills, and has honed hers to the point that it's the next best thing to mind control. I've been around them and it's not QUITE that extreme, but they are VERY persuasive, so be careful when you speak to them."

"How many people are going to be AT this thing?" I asked in annoyance. "I don't think I can remember them all."

Nadia shrugged. "A hundred, last I checked. Word on the street is some of the branches are benching their weaker candidates. Getting off world is impossible, but the D-rank zone is a lot safer than down here. Way more peak D-rankers there to play babysitter. Plus less Path stuff to mess with."

"Well, glad someone mentioned THAT was an option," I said sarcastically. "But whatever, I wouldn't have bothered. Just as well no one wasted my time. Now how do we FIND everyone?" I pointed into the park, where the majority of the land vanished into a heavily shaded canopy of trees.

It wasn't spatially expanded, I didn't think. Not like that first copse of trees when we'd just arrived. Alys took the lead, gesturing us to follow, and we did, trailing behind our sunniest cousin until we reached a clearing in the center of the forest.

It looked…quaint. It wasn't some big overwhelming glade or majestic expanse of lush greenery, it was just a big empty green meadow full of cheap wooden picnic tables. Off to the sides I saw ugly box shaped metal grills on posts sticking out of the ground, several of them lit with charcoal and merrily burning away, sizzling meat dripping aromatic juices into the banked coals that sent bursts of scented steam up onto the gentle breeze that played with the leaves on the trees.

Honestly the whole scene was kind of idyllic, with the various relaxed looking family members lounging on tables or playing sports. Of course, that was ignoring the menacing forms of the bodyguards sticking to the shadows of the trees, more than two hundred B-rank elites composing a force large enough to conquer a small star system.

Fade grimaced. "We're expected to give you space. You want to go with it or just tell them to fuck off?"

"It'll be seen as weakness if I need my bodyguards right next to me when no one else does," I told him firmly. "Besides, you're B-rankers. Does a few dozen yards really matter that much?" His shrug was answer enough, and I nodded him and Alanna off with the others. Alys, to no one's surprise, dragged us to the nearest group of revelers with a happy squeal. "Adrianna! How are you! Oh my god your hair looks amazing where did you get that dye job?"

The tall, tanned woman with eyes that looked a lot like my own shade of Wyndham green laughed as she swept Alys into a hug. "The same place I got the last one, Aly, you need new material." She was quite a bit bigger than Alys, so my blonde cousin was lifted up into the air as she crushed her into a hug. Alys just laughed happily, squeezing back as Adrianna set her down.

"Well it still looks great," she looked around at the others with Adrianna. "Who are your friends?"

Adrianna laughed. "Wayne, Thomas, Adra, this is Alys. Everybody's favorite. And these are her friends, apparently."

"Shane," I told her solemnly as she glanced at me. "That's Derrick, Charlie, and Nadia."

Her eyes sharpened. "Shane," she said slowly. "Elijah's kid. I've heard a few stories about you. You're bigger than expected. Elijah is a normal sized person last I checked, how are you so damned tall?"

"My mother's side of the family," I shrugged. I was by far the biggest person here. Despite our similar features, my father was easily a half foot shorter than me, and his size was pretty typical for a Wyndham. I hadn't ever really considered it, but my mom was almost six feet, which was pretty damned tall for a woman, so I assumed my height came from her.

The other woman, a redhead named Adra, glared at me. "You've got a lot of guts coming here. Nobody wants you around, you know. We should just take the chance to get rid of you."

Adrianna grimaced. "Forgive her, she doesn't think," she said apologetically. "If she did, she'd know that any attempt to harm you would mean having to fight Roland, something only an idiot or a lunatic would do." She pinned the other woman with a gimlet stare, and the redhead went pale.

"I wasn't being like…serious," Adra muttered sullenly. "I was just talking shit."

"That happens when you have your head up your ass," Derrick said spitefully. "Maybe pry it loose and brush your teeth."

Alys physically interposed herself between them. "Whoa! No need for hostility everybody. We're all family here. I think it's clear from this trial that they want us working together. We've all got bigger fish to fry than some family squabbles. Adra, I know you're from Shane's uncle's branch, but there are more important things than Wyndham politics, ok?"

Adra looked like she did NOT think that was ok, but a glare from Adrianna shut her up fast. The taller woman turned to glance at Alys questioningly. "You say that like you know what's going on? Have you heard something? About three quarters of us are in a communication blackout, and the ones who aren't keep getting stonewalled. Someone up there seems REALLY concerned about information security and compartmentalization right now."

I realized what Alys was doing even as she nodded her cheerful acknowledgement. "That's right," she all but sang. "I know something you don't know. Now aren't you glad we're all being friendly and civil?"

Adrianna stared at her unreadably for a moment or two, then sighed. "You know, you're always so chipper and friendly I forget how sneaky you can be. You want to make a deal, right? An alliance for information?" She looked me over with a long sigh. "You know what? Fine. You provide us with some worthwhile info and I'm open to a temporary truce for the duration of this conclave. From ALL of us," she said firmly as Adra tried to speak up. "So…what do you know?" I was so glad I'd allied with Alys. She really got things done.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The truce was hashed out pretty quickly, and we shared our information without reservation. They all looked unsettled, and I didn't blame them. I wasn't exactly feeling balanced and carefree myself. Being here without any backup bothered me. Not that I didn't like Alys and Derrick and the others, they were family. But I was still getting to know them, and this was clearly not a friendly place for me to be. Having Bethy or Callie or Abel at my back would have made me feel a lot better.


Luckily, the socializing and "family time" wasn't foremost on the agenda. They let us mess around until everyone arrived, and then when we were all accounted for according to the trial, Delia called the meeting to order.


Delia was…intimidating. Short and steely eyed, with platinum blonde hair tied back in a tight, severe braid, eyes hidden behind a pair of sleek but functional glasses. They weren't the same green as mine, not that all Wyndhams had those. Delia's eyes were ice blue, a pale color close to white, and they were uncomfortably intense as they stared across the conclave at the rest of us.


Roland stood behind her, a tall red haired man with a colossal sword hanging over his back. He didn't speak, just kind of loomed behind her looking menacing. He was good at it.


"You have been summoned," she said in a cold, implacable voice. "And you have come. That is good. This is an unusual circumstance, I know, and plenty of you had reservations. Confusion and doubt runs rampant. This was not an oversight. You will notice that our number is small. Many refused the call. Their qualifications have been revoked."


Everyone froze. That…that wasn't supposed to happen. I knew the score, so I understood why they did it, but these trials were voluntary. Not doing them meant no points to free locals, which would hurt your faction, but no one was FORCED to participate.


There were nine other cities in this ring, and nine other meetings presumably taking place, but assuming similar numbers to here, that meant there were now only about a thousand candidates left in the running for the position of Wishmaster. Hell, it meant more than that, because some of the ones who didn't show were probably competitors with higher point values.


"You see my earnestness now," she continued icily. "This is not a game. It is not politics. This is a matter of survival. I personally believe the succession war should be postponed at this juncture, but wiser minds than I have decreed that we shall continue, and continue we must. That said, during this next action, any attempts to curry favor, or remove rivals, or undermine the cohesion of this family will be met with swift and violent reprisals."


Roland stepped forward, his hazel eyes sweeping the crowd. "I am Roland. You know me." It wasn't a question. "Delia's threat will be carried out by me personally, should it require fulfillment. We are not, however, unreasonable. Any who do not wish to participate may leave. As we mentioned, your qualification will be removed, but you will live. Should you decline this generous offer, you are giving your implicit consent to be used by us for the duration of this trial. It will be dangerous. Some of you will die. Those who do not will benefit. Make your choice."


Alys grimaced. "Delia is smarter than this. Choosing Roland to support her was smart, he's very strong, but she shouldn't have had him speak. He's blunt to the point of brutality, and she's already incredibly in your face. She should have picked someone political who could dress it up better than that."


"No," Nadia corrected her. "She doesn't want that. This isn't a matter that will be solved with numbers. We need quality not quantity. Anyone who could be swayed into it with smooth talk wouldn't be the kind of person they want on the team."


That didn't fill me with confidence, but at the same time, it kind of did. Based on what they were saying, this "trial" was some kind of punitive expedition against the Void. Reading between the lines, Delia and Roland belonged to a faction who wanted to proactively eliminate the Void and abandon the succession war. The people in charge were naturally not fans of that idea, given their investment in the ritual, but the Void made someone worried enough to give their faction control of a trial to use us for housecleaning.


The fact that they seemed so resigned told me that they didn't expect this little crusade to actually DO much, but that it was the best they were going to get.


To my surprise, the threatening show wasn't enough. Someone raised a hand lazily. "Hello there, I'm Wesley, nice to meet you all. I'd like more details about exactly what we'll be expected to DO for this trial before I accept your unlimited control, thanks very much. Perhaps you might illuminate us as to your plans?"


It was reasonable, polite, and just the right amount of sarcastic. Enough that everyone knew he wasn't happy and was making it known, but not so much as to give Roland an excuse to react negatively. He was clearly pleased with himself, thinking he'd made it impossible for any rational person to deny him that request.


"No," said Roland bluntly. He did not elaborate further. We all just stared at him, and he stared back.


Wesley seemed to be at a loss for how to respond to that, and someone else neatly stepped in, raising a hand. A tall, athletic looking blonde girl with a ponytail and a wide, magnetic smile. "Hi, Catherine here, I was wondering if we could get some more background on the threat in general? I totally understand not wanting to share battle plans," she sneered at Wesley. "SOME of us have better sense than to try to compromise operational integrity to score brownie points, but I think most of us are a little confused right now, and any light you could shed on the situation would be helpful."


Despite her warm smile and sincerity, she might as well have had a billboard behind her mocking him for being gauche and overly obvious. He glared back, but she just ignored him. The black haired girl next to her, who looked nearly identical except the hair color, just smirked at him. Sarah, I would assume.


Delia took this one. "That was on the agenda for this conclave, yes. We will address those concerns once any of our more hesitant relatives extricate themselves from the proceedings. Do we have any takers on that offer?"


There was a slight hesitation, just a brief pause where people weighed the options, and then about ten people got up and left. Delia and Roland didn't seem particularly upset about the loss. She waited to see if anyone else would leave, and I was actually kind of surprised no one did. Once she was sure she had our complete attention, she nodded.


"Very well," she said calmly. "Now that we are all in attendance, I will begin by catching everyone up on current events. As of this moment, this planet is under siege by the forces of the Void. The limitations inherent in the terrain remain stable, but attempts have been made by the Void to subvert those limitations to their advantage. Thanks to several enterprising groups of Ascendants, those attempts have failed, but that have NOT ceased."


Sarah raised her hand this time. "What kind of attempts?" she asked warily.


"Construction appears to have gotten underway to build a Void ladder, with the express purpose of submerging the heirworld itself, along with all of us on its surface, into the depths of the Void." She said stoically. "Should these attempts succeed, I trust I need not spell out what our fates will be."


Everyone I could see flinched. Like it was choreographed, every one of my relatives physically recoiled from the thought. It occurred to me that I might have accidentally missed out on something of a communal nightmare of my family based on my relatives and experiences.


Wishmasters nominally controlled who we could help or grant wishes to. Nominally. But if someone captured me and forced me to grant a wish on pain of death, or of losing Callie, I would do it. Fair compensation would still be required, but that was to prevent me from benefiting and unbalancing the wish. Being FORCED to help would most likely just increase the price a bit, if that.


For everyone here, the idea of being held captive and used as an on demand wish service must have been their most horrible nightmare come to life. Being with Zeke, then my mom, and then in various "safe" locations (and wasn't that a weird thing to think unironically, but from this perspective it fit) meant I hadn't had to worry about that particular bit of horror up to this point.


Having seen the Void, I could understand even better what they were afraid of, and it made my heart ache a bit. Competitive or not these were my family. My blood. I didn't know them well, but I didn't like the idea of them being terrorized like that.


Delia, surprisingly, seemed to agree. "There is no shame in fear," she said to the disturbed crowd. "I do not hold the desires of those who left against them, I simply consider them unworthy to lead us. Similarly, your own fear is immaterial, especially in light of your bravery and willpower. You have faced your terror and emerged victorious. Bravery is not the absence of fear, but its conquest."


Wesley, who had stayed, looked unhappy with the direction things were going. He tried to interject. "What do we know about the Void forces?" he asked loudly. "I assume we have some sort of data on what resources that have available? Or are we going in blind?"


"If you wish to attempt this task blind, I could carve out your eyeballs," Roland said mildly. "Does that sound helpful?" The swordmaster stared the younger Ascendant down coldly, not a hint of joke or mercy in his tone.


Wesley reeled back. "What? No! I don't…that's not necessary. I was just hoping for some intelligence."


"A wish beyond even our ancestor's ability to grant you, I suspect," Delia said in a stoic tone that made her casual insult WAY more devastating. "But we might be able to gift you some information instead."


That got a smattering of laughs from the crowd, but Delia didn't focus on it. She started outlining a few discovered bases, double agents, and supply chains they'd discovered. I was pretty shocked, honestly, my family was way more on the ball than I'd expected. I supposed I tended to take the competence of others for granted, but you don't run a faction equal to the five faction alliance members without some serious skills.


"With all of that laid out," she said. "We have only one opportunity to lay waste to these attackers. Any we miss will be warned off and will scatter, potentially never to be seen again. As such, we will be splitting into teams. Five of you in each, with your guards included. You will be given a location, as well as several neighboring locations. Should you accomplish your primary mission, you may move on to assisting with another operation. The entire strike will have a duration of one hour."


She went on to clarify the rules, elaborating on the power distribution of the individual bases and how they would be strictly curated to be within our capabilities. Wishes would be used to ensure the match ups would be as close to fair as possible, though that would ensure the strongest of us would be fighting the most difficult battles. She also mentioned that we could have members of our retinue accompany us, but that there was a manpower limit, and that we would need to get permission to get help during this trial. I sighed. Let the negotiations begin.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"So I can bring five D-rankers, two C-rankers, and four B-rankers," I informed my friends tiredly as I slumped on the couch. Negotiating with Delia had been…stressfull. I had assumed it would be a formality, given we were family and I was doing this for her trial, but she'd put me through the ringer.


About a dozen different stipulations about power distribution, point caps, loot distribution, and any number of other niche and frankly outlandish bullet points had been added to the contract where my forces had been laid out.


I was honestly almost as impressed as I was horrified. Callie, meanwhile, was less than thrilled. "So they want you to run off to the middle of nowhere to fight the Void at a fraction of your strength? Why would they use THAT as a test? That's so dangerous. This isn't a game, the consequences of this could be catastrophic!" She growled in frustration. "What is WRONG with your family?"


Sighing, I explained my hypothesis that Delia and Roland were part of a proactive faction being hamstrung by traditionalists. Callie just grimaced.


"I'm not…unfamiliar with that dynamic," she admitted. "We had some hardliners like that in the Guild when I was growing up. Everyone had to work around them, because of course they never compromise. This is how we've always done things so it's the right way." The voice she used to spit out that line made me pretty sure it was either a quote or based on the tone of a specific person, but I didn't have a chance to ask, because Bethy interrupted excitedly.


"So who gets to go? Is it me? Is it? Can I go Shane, pretty please? I've been working on a new ability! It'll either allow me to teleport or turn someone into a cabbage." I was…unsure if she was kidding about that. "If it's the first one, there's a REALLY good chance I can control what happens when I use it!" That one seemed like less of a joke.


I grimaced. "Bethy, I think maybe for your next few tricks, you should look into something more…understated."


"Pshaw, understatement is for nerds," she snorted. "I prefer THUNDERSTATEMENT!" She leapt to her feet and bellowed that last word so loud the glasses on the table shook. Someone banged on the floor upstairs and she winced. "SORRY!" She shouted up at the ceiling.


I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Thunderstatement isn't a real term, Bethy." I cut her off with a glare, pointing my finger at her. "And don't use your hypnosis to start convincing people it is. I've been getting complaints that some of the last batch you tried that on have been having memory problems."


"Nothing serious," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "I had to delete some stuff to make room for the improvements. It'll come back eventually. I think. Or it'll get worse. But that almost never happens."


I glared at her. "Do not EXPERIMENT on members of my army, Bethany," she pouted at the use of her full name.


"It's nothing too serious," Callie soothed me. "Bethy would never hurt an ally. I'm guessing we can wipe it out with some basic purification flame treatment. We can have Chelsea look them over, maybe give them some time off or something. But he's right, Bethy. No more hypnosis on allies. Even as a joke. I know you didn't do anything drastic but some things aren't ok to do as pranks."


She wilted a bit. "I…ok. I swear it was just dumb little stuff. Like the word thing, and that one guy who called Chelsea a bitch, so I added a compulsion for him to drink shampoo to his shower routine."


"Wait, what guy-" I started to ask in outrage, but Callie steamrolled over me.


"As long as you know now," she said serenely. "But I think bringing Bethy on the raid is a good plan. We need to keep an eye on her anyway. Do you really want to leave her alone in the camp with our entire force for who knows how long? She'll probably start another fake religion."


I rolled my eyes. "Fine. We could use the help anyway. Abel, you're with us, obviously. Callie, you would kill me if I tried to leave you home. Dayna, would be useful to have you along, and for our last party member…" I scanned the room, before finally settling on someone I think surprised a lot of people. "Mel. We haven't done a mission together in a bit, and you'll be a huge help with Callie's fire stuff. Assuming you two have gotten around to perfecting that without Chelsea bridging you?"


Mel nodded excitedly. "It's just an invocation when there's only two of us. Totally doable. It only gets complicated when you have a ton of inputs. If one party member is steering things you don't even need the diagram, but for real combinations anything past two is a nightmare. Hell yes! This is going to be great, thanks Shane!"


"Hey thank me by setting a bunch of Void shit on fire," I shrugged. "My darling wife is all brawn no brains when it comes to her heretic fire. I figure someone should be there whose battle strategy goes beyond "MORE FIRE!". Sorry honey, but you know it's true," I told her apologetically.


Callie had been gearing up to snap at me…but just slumped over. "Yeah," she admitted. "It should be taken care of soon though."


I knew what she meant. Callie's control and manipulation abilities were all part of her Abyssal Priestess Path. Until we merged her two power sources together, there was always going to be some lacking overlap. "Anyway," I continued. "Obviously Ellie and Felicity are our C-rankers, and Carmichael and Crell will be joining Fade and Alanna on guard duty for the lot of us, so I hope everyone is excited for some quality camping time. Because we're going to be sleeping out in the wilderness for a few days. Lucky us."


No one seemed worried, which, considering they knew I could make buildings from dirt was reasonable. Still, I had other things on my mind. Namely, I needed to know more about our target. Luckily, I had a local titan right here to question. "So, Fade, what do you know about," I checked the information I'd copied down. "Castle Raymore? Is that a real castle? It doesn't really fit the aesthetic here."


"It is a real castle," he nodded. "It's also…kind of haunted. Well no, it's actually extremely haunted. The Raymores were a necromancer family. They got violently murdered by a rival faction a few hundred years ago. Used some kind of creepy ritual to bind their souls to the castle itself. A few people have tried to move in, but ghosts are a pain in the ass to deal with. Not a lot of purification specialists at high B-rank."


That was interesting, but also unsettling. Could the Void corrupt ghosts? Actually what were B-rank ghosts even LIKE? I didn't think I could purify something that strong, even with Zagan and the boost from my staff. But with the wishes they'd used for this trial, we shouldn't run into anything we couldn't match. "Have you ever been there?" I asked him slowly. "Like do you know what to expect?"


He waggled a hand. "Not personally, but some of my boys have checked it out. It's sort of a local hangout for idiots who want to get into trouble, and several of the Hall's members qualify. The place has a sort of aura around it, the ghosts have leached into the stone. Super cold, drains the life from you, that kind of thing."


Which was unfortunate, to say the least. Because that sounded a LOT like Void taint, and I was pretty sure mixing the two wasn't going to produce puppies and rainbows.


I glanced at Callie, who looked equally worried. All I could do was hope that whatever Vessel was here (and I was positive if there was a Void infiltration happening in the B-rank zone there was a Vessel in charge of it) they weren't actually B-rank themselves. Callie and I could take on a C-rank Vessel. With my staff and our natural advantages we were basically made to crush the Void.


But a B-rank Vessel would be up to our guards to handle. My only consolation was that it wouldn't be a particularly good test of our abilities if they sent us after someone too strong for us to handle, so it was unlikely to make it past the wish they'd used to prepare for us.


"So, when do we need to do this?" Callie asked as she looked over the paperwork I'd drawn up. "I don't see any indication of timing."


"There isn't one," I admitted. "They don't want us to blow the op by leaking anything. I signed a heavy contract for secrecy, but they're doing this blind. We're to get within range and wait for the signal. The whole raid is going to be done within an hour, so we'll all be contacted at the same time and then we move out."


It was needlessly complicated and borderline ridiculous, but that was my family in a nutshell. Besides, Delia was clearly competent, and I was willing to accept that she probably had reasons beyond the one I could fathom for doing it this way. "Anyway, we hear anything about the smith I was looking for?" I asked Fade. "Because I want to get my armor made before this trip if possible. I feel naked without my plate."


"I found one that should be able to swing it," he nodded. "Donovan Redfellow. VERY famous smith around these parts. He's only B-rank, but only by choice. He's got a Mythical smithing Skill at least. Makes some of the best blades on the planet." He tapped the short sword on his hip. "My Devlos is a Redfellow." He drew about an inch of the sword, which I had never actually looked at closely before.


It was B-ranked, much like my staff, but…more. It was SCARY. The steel was pattern forged, but the patterns seemed to shift and twist as the light caught them. The thin red lines in the steel flexed and wove through each other like the sword had pulsating veins.


"And he'll take on the job?" I asked pensively. "Like…soon? Because we need to leave for our posting in the next few days. Some of the targets are further away than others, and they don't want to tip our hand by rushing. How fast does this…Redfellow work?" I was getting excited. That sword was magnificent, and the smith who made it had to be just as amazing. I wanted to see what my new, B-rank armor was going to be like.


"Donovan contacted ME, actually," he admitted. "I hadn't heard from him in a while, but when I put the word out about a smith, he jumped at the chance. Donovan was the person smith of the Hall of Steel before I took office. He and my master, Kairos, built the whole faction from the ground up. I think he heard about us working with you and wants to support our dreams of getting off planet. Of course, he would be coming along. But I somehow doubt that's a problem."


I snorted. "Oh of course, how dare you force me to recruit a world class blacksmith who could effectively outfit my entire force. I mean, I'm sure the materials would be exorbitant, but having someone like that on staff would be a game changer. I assume I have to do…something to get him on my side?"


"He's watching the results of this trial," he admitted. "He'll do the work on your armor for payment. But if you want him working for you, you need to win this. Handily. If you can do it though…Donovan is someone who operates at a respected level in the A-rank zone. Having him with us will not only be good for your people, it'll open a lot of doors." He grinned at me ruefully. "But hey, no pressure."

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The trip out to the forest was pretty easy. A group of Ascendants can move shockingly fast over land, even when suppressed by a high level planet. When we arrived at the location in question, I was kind of underwhelmed. Not by the castle itself, exactly, but by the information gathering abilities of my cousins. I'd been impressed they'd managed to find this place so easily, but staring at it now, I quickly revoked that positive impression.

"Subtle," I said wryly as we stared up at the castle on the cliff. A castle, mind, that was coated in a bank of roiling back fog. It looked…dense. Not like Void taint, exactly, but something more.

My wife shrugged. "Well this IS the middle of the forest. We're hundreds of miles from the nearest town, and it's not like there are many people doing flyovers. Flying here is exhausting, in case you didn't notice. Even the birds don't do it for too long."

I had noticed that. It was doable, at least if you had wings, but no one below B-rank would be flying around here without them, and even the B-rankers themselves would have run into problems doing it long term. "So, how do we approach?" I asked slowly. "I assume that the wish they used will separate us to fight individual enemies, I just don't know what form that'll take. Should we split up on our own so it doesn't happen dramatically or just take it for granted and go in normal?"

Wishes were…complicated. It was one of the reasons I tended to keep mine very specific or VERY general. Trading points, or wishing for "good luck" were both hard wishes to fuck up. Ironically, leaving so much open to intent with the latter made it easier for the wish to find a reasonable outlet to accomplish the stated end goal. But for more specific stuff like "make sure we get into the castle and only run into enemies we can handle"... well that was both open to interpretation enough to go bad and specific enough to possibly require some extreme measures to happen as stated.

Everyone just kind of looked at me. Bethy, of course, was the first to speak up. "We should split up!" She said excitedly. "Like in stories, whenever people split up they get attacked by vampires. But I'm vampires. So if we split up, either no one will get attacked, we'll all get attacked by me, or one of my siblings will be in there. And because of the wish, two of those things almost definitely won't happen."

Ellie frowned at her. "Wait…which two?"

"The latter two," I admitted. "The wish is to meet up with people suited for us to fight. Anyone who runs into Bethy is going to be screwed. Everyone with us is either way too strong or not strong enough. I'm honestly a little worried about what she might run into here, but splitting up will make sure no one ELSE runs into it, because anything legitimately dangerous to her would butcher the rest of our D-rankers like chickens."

My bodyguard looked skeptical, but Callie just nodded along. "It's true. Bethy is basically unbeatable at the same level unless you have cheaty purification bullshit like Chelsea or Shane. I'm guessing she'll bump into a weak C-ranker."

"The point is, she's right," I said with a sigh. "I can feel that it's the right choice. My instincts are screaming at me to split up." I sighed. "I really wish they weren't, but they are. Everyone else down for that?" It was a rhetorical question. I was stalling. I HATED splitting up. Watching my wife and best friends walk off into a creepy Void fog was like top ten on my nightmare list, but I refused to let THEM see that. A leader needs to appear confident, even when he isn't. Possibly ESPECIALLY when he isn't. For Ascendants, faking it until you make it was a way of life.

Everyone tried to seem comfortable with it, but all the D-rankers and both C-rankers weren't. I could smell the falsehoods when they talked shit about how easy things would be. I obviously said nothing.

With a quick hug for my wife, I waited until we got the go ahead from the trial overseers and then took off into the fog. I took a few steps in…and then vanished.

Well, I didn't vanish. Everything else vanished. I grimaced. "I'm guessing you just disappeared into the darkness?" I asked my wife through the bond. I looked around, trying to find any landmark to use as guidance in the fog, because all my vision had been swallowed by the darkened mist.

"Pretty much," she said distractedly. "Stay safe, hon. And watch your back. Love you."

I returned the sentiment, along with a healthy dose of affection through the bond, then returned my focus to the world around me. It was dark. Empty. I was alone. I yawned. I'd been through so much worse. Torture, solitude, I'd ground away any weaknesses in these areas ages ago. So I just kept walking.

The space seemed to twist. I walked for about five minutes. Then ten. I was beginning to think I was in a loop or something, until I came to a stop in front of a building. A tall multi dwelling a apartment complex.

"Home is where the heart is, huh?" I asked derisively. "Bit on the nose, don't you think?"

There was no answer. I headed inside, took the stairs up, then stepped into my old apartment for the first time in years. We'd abandoned the place when we'd moved to Rajak, but I'd lived there for most of my life. The couch where I'd watched shows on my scan ring, the back room with Zeke's work bench where he made masks.

And there, in the middle of the room, sitting in a beat up looking chair, sat me. I rolled my eyes. "I give this a two out of ten," I said with a snort. "The ruined soul temple already tried this, and it didn't work there either."

This wasn't my first time confronting another me. I'd done this dance before, and this version wasn't going to be the one that broke me. In fact, I was pretty sure this one wasn't really me at all. The blue glow in the irises of his maskless eyes were very familiar. That was odd though. "Hey, why don't you have a mask on?" I asked suspiciously. "I'm wearing one, so it would stand to reason you would be too."

"Because I can't," the other me sighed. "I tried. It's…there's something off about that mask. Some interaction with the duplication. I can't make a mask of that mask."

Presumably, Zeke was too powerful for this B-ranked threat to copy. Some kind of authority among the masks at play? It was interesting but not important. "Kind of ruins any chance of you copying me for properly, doesn't it? Why even bother using my face? You had to know I wouldn't buy it."

"I admit, I was mostly going for confusion and self doubt," he shrugged. "But I don't believe that'll be possible with you. I wonder, why are YOU bothering with this? We know about your heresy. This fog is dripping with Void. You could burn it away easily."

I shook my head. "It's only half Void. The other half is some undead lifedrinking ghost shit. No idea how it'll react when freed." I didn't mention the wish, which was another big reason. This whole arrangement was going as planned. Which meant this was either a high D-rank or low C-ranked enemy. Probably…"You're the Vessel here," I decided. "The one in charge?"

He gave me an amiable nod. "I am. Not enough B-rank Vessels to have one running every outpost. I wonder though. How are you going to use that information?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him suspiciously. "Now we fight."

"We could," he acknowledged. "But do we have to? Surely you've considered that with so many various forces among the Void Children, conflicts will be inevitable. That there might be room for compromise."

I froze. I…hadn't. But that made some kind of sense. Maybe. "How would that work. The Void Children hate those of us in realspace. Our legends are loud and cause them pain. They want to wipe us out." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Or are you claiming that isn't the case?" I wanted him to give me a straight answer on this. My Scent of Truth would make discerning the veracity of any claims easy, but only if he MADE claims. He'd been very careful to pose abstract hypotheticals up to this point.

"That's true," he admitted. "But realspace and the Void overlap in many places. If there are noisy spots, there are quiet spots too. Not ALL of the Void is constantly bombarded with noise. At least not normally. For those in the deeper reaches, the war itself is unnecessary noise. Those who live at the edges have dragged the rest of them into this conflict, and it's ruining the peace of the deepchildren."

I hadn't considered that. I knew very little about the Void in general, and Void Children in particular. "Alright," I acknowledged. "So you're interested in what, an alliance? You expect me to believe that?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said with a laugh. "There are interested parties who might open a dialogue, is all I'm saying. But that's predicated on your ability to earn that interaction."

I frowned at him. That sounded ominous. Not just what he said, but the WAY he said it. There was a certain hungry amusement to the sentiment that make me tense up. My Danger Sense was pinging, but it had been for a while now. It had suddenly cranked up to eleven. "What are you doing?" I asked him harshly.

He put his hand to his chest in a shocked parody of a gasp. "Me? Why, nothing. Nothing at all. In fact. I was just leaving. Can't very well participate in the test myself. Otherwise the results will be suspect. Have fun now, and don't die on me. I do so look forward to our next talk."

There was a flicker in the air around me, and then he vanished. As did the apartment, and all the black from the fog. I was left standing in a field of unrelenting grey on top of a hill.

I froze. He'd withdrawn the Void taint. I hadn't expected that. But now that it was gone… it was just me and the ghosts. The wish must still be restricting me from meeting anything too far out of my weight class, because none of them were B-rank, but there were several C-ranked spirits. I could see them in the fog, their shapes forming just out of sight.

I tried Dantalion, but it was like trying to look through butter. Too much information in every inch of space for me to easily view what was happening.

"Solomon," whispered a voice in my ear. "Shane," came another from the other side. "We see you," a third hissed. "We KNOW you."

I sighed. "I'm sure," I said in annoyance. "I don't suppose you all became ghosts because you really wanted to see a rainbow or a sunset before you died but never got the chance? Because I could make that happen I'm pretty sure. Maybe you all wanted to taste a really delicious chocolate silk pie? Come on people, last requests, last meals, anything you want."

"We will dine on your soul," came a thousand voices from all around me. "Feast on your flesh. Gnaw on your bones. You will be our last meal, Wyndham. And you will be…delicious."

Sighing, I shook my head, then cracked my neck. I activated the one form I suspected might help me here, triggering my staff to boost Zagan to C-rank as I looked around in annoyance. "Alright, but I have to warn you. I'm way spicier than I look. I'm definitely going to give you indigestion." Sadly, my awesome line didn't seem to have much effect. They attacked anyway. Everyone's a critic.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The ghosts fell on me like a pack of rabid hyenas. Probably. I wasn't sure if hyenas retained the necessary presence of mind to form a pack after contracting rabies, but in a general sense, they were a group of very angry barely lucid monsters who definitely wanted to do me harm, so it was close enough.

They weren't the strongest ghosts here. These were C-rank ghosts, not B-rank. I suspected the wish had somehow tweaked things to allow me to end up here, otherwise I'd have definitely met some of the original owners of this place. Still, they fell on me with tooth and claw, and as their hands and weapons sank into my body, I felt icy shards of pain radiate from the impact sites.

It was agonizing, but ultimately not more than I could handle. More than that though, I felt something…deeper. Soul strain. Not from draining power or my own effort, but an actual attack on my spirit in a way I'd never really experienced before. With each burst of pain and damage, the green life energy in me flared, Zagan acting as protection and renewal all at once as it attempted to repair the damage even as it was happening.

My staff whirled, trying to deflect and distance them from me, but I ran into an issue I hadn't expected. Ghosts weren't solid, but my Ten Demons Tree was a soul based item. It could do all sorts of amazing things, including, apparently, physically interacting with ghosts.

While that might have seemed like a good thing under other circumstances, it was definitely NOT in these. My staff couldn't get enough room to maneuver, and the crowd of ghosts was too dense for me to even use Double Trouble to get out of. I couldn't see the edges, and if I appeared behind one of the interior spirits I'd just end up in the middle of the crowd.

So…I dropped the staff. Or at least, returned it to my soul. I needed room to move, and more importantly, I needed to commit. I was letting myself get bogged down in choice paralysis. My C-ranked Zagan form was keeping me from taking TOO much damage, but the bit that was getting through was starting to mount. If I sat around panicking, I was going to get dragged down and killed.

In a situation like this, when I was surrounded and had no way out, I only had one real option. Make a breakout point. Pick a specific ghost and tear into it, then do it again.

I let them all slash and snap and tear, feeling the pain as they tried their best to eat away at my soul. It was horrible, well beyond most of the pain I'd been through even in my trials for the Lady. Most.

But finally, I spotted one that would work. He was…small. I thought he was a kid at first, albeit a tall one, but upon closer inspection, I was pretty sure he was just malnourished and sporting a baby face. I triggered Dantalion as I grabbed him, then focused and started to pour green fire into his spirit.

He froze, then screamed, trying to get away, but I ignored it, holding him like iron as the others tore into me. Dantalion was necessary here. It taught me how to interpret what I was doing, because my next move was something I had never tried before.

Ghosts, by dint of the stories I'd heard, were people who had unfinished business. Spirits of Ascendants left behind when they died. They were NOT human beings. You couldn't leave behind a part of a soul beneath Mirror. If a soul broke, the person it belonged to ceased to exist. Mirror souls were the ONLY exception to that rule. No resurrection, no healing, no last minute save. That was the end. At least for the sentient parts of a soul. People like Benny and my dad could access certain aspects of a soul separate from the part with a will and consciousness, though the how was a little complicated, but their "bound souls" weren't thinking beings with emotions like these ghosts.

Because of this, it could be understood that ghosts were not broken souls. What they WERE, as far as I could tell, were more like…stuck souls. Still complete, but wedged into reality in the wrong way and jammed outside of a body. Ghosts weren't exactly controllable. They were more…confused. Spirits so lost they couldn't leave, and by virtue of that, too confused to resist simple commands as given by necromancers. You could even command your OWN ghost if you did it right, essentially using a ritual or ability to wedge yourself into reality ahead of time with FAKE unfinished business.
Regardless, this process was damaging. In order to get stuck, ghosts needed to be twisted in just the right way. Not many abilities could do it, because souls were tough to interact with, so not everyone understood the process, but I'd looked into it.

Which was where my current plan came from. I focused all my information from Dantalion in this particular spirit. On understanding him. On gaining a grasp of him. "Tyler," I breathed out, staring into his screaming face. "Tyler Reubens." He froze, the flames pouring into him quicker. As they dug in deeper, I gained more information. I learned more about him. The first thing I did was erase any artificial compulsions from necromancy, cleansing his spirit so that if he was being kept stuck it was only by his own will and unfinished business.

Then, once that was done, I started another process. Genesis Burst had been developed to heal my cousin from long term soul damage. The process her father had used to train her willpower to resist recursion had actually shared some similarities with making a ghost, and that gave me a place to start. I focused on the most recent problem plaguing him, the most recent pain of the soul I could find with Dantalion, and then I released a Genesis Burst.

The cleansing fire melted away the pain, easing the hurt and pacifying that part of the unquiet mind. Then I found the next one. I repeated the process. Tyler had gone still, the screaming stopped, and was staring into my eyes, tears trailing down his spectral face. I liked to think that I saw a flash of ease at the end, a split second of relief and gratitude as he began to burn in earnest, and his spectral form was cleansed from the world around it by the flames of Zagan.

After that, it was a blur. Grab a ghost, cleanse a ghost. My head…my head hurt. So badly. I hadn't felt soul strain like that since I was first starting out. Zagan helped with that too, actually, restoring a bit of the damage as I went. About halfway through, I felt another spirit enter the equation. A steady, soothing presence that was always there with me, stepping forward to shield me from harm as Callie interposed herself between the strain of using Dantalion.

She couldn't do much for Zagan. It was a C-ranked skill used through the staff, and she didn't have a Chronicle, so she wasn't capable of holding up under that weight. But she was there. She helped.

When I finally finished, when the last ghost was gone, cleansed from the hill I stood on, I wobbled and started to fall. But I didn't hit the ground. Callie caught me. Her embrace soft and comforting as she lowered us to the ground. I groaned, my head pounding, and looked around for any sign of the Void Vessel. I saw nothing. He was gone, as was the Void taint. The fog left behind had thinned noticeably at least at the edges.

Bethy and Abel appeared beside us, looking tense when they saw my condition. When I waved them off though, they nodded, then took off to help the others. Callie just held me, letting my rest my head in her lap, and rubbed my temples, humming softly as I recovered.

It took me about five minutes of that to realize she'd removed my mask to do it, and another five to realize why the sky above me was so blurry. She didn't speak, didn't even look directly at me. Just sat and hummed and rubbed my head as I cried. Over the tragically short life of Tyler Ruebens, and Daniel Godwin, and Sally Caruthers, and a dozen other people that I'd never met, but whose tragedies I had learned far too much about during that hellish and bizarre panoply of overstimulation and agonizing torment.

I thought I'd known torment. Had understood it. I'd thought nothing could hurt me anymore. But I still had the capacity for taking pains. As I wept there, in the shadow of that haunted castle, a part of me was glad for it. I'd come so far, changed so much, and I was getting farther and farther from the person I had been. Sometimes I relished that growth. Sometimes not so much.

It was hard not to think about my own tragedies. Not the pain they inspired, because I had slowly burned that part of myself away. I had cleansed the scars and the petty poison of weakness from myself, built myself up like I'd needed to in order to become more than I was. I'd Ascended, and left so much behind, just like Zeke had warned me years ago at the beginning of all this.

And just because I was already hurting, was already broken down. I allowed myself the smallest amount of self pity. I allowed myself to cry for one more lost soul. For Shane Wyndham, a shy boy from a backwater city on a backwater mining planet, who I had essentially killed on the path to becoming the man I was today. Because no one else was ever going to know about his sacrifice, or care about his loss.

My maudlin pity party was cut off by a soft pair of lips pressing to mine, and I refocused to find Callie smiling down at me sadly. Tears in her own eyes. "You didn't kill him," she said firmly. I realized I must have been thinking that loudly into the bond for her to pick it up. Probably a side effect of how fragged my head was. "We all grow up. We all change." She nodded at the spot where I'd been standing.

"You saved those people. Strangers you'd never met." She said firmly. "You hurt yourself to lay them to rest and set them free. Not because you didn't have another way, not because you were afraid. Because you cared. Because it was the right thing to do.

Her voice was almost angry in its intensity. "You are every bit the hero you were when we first met. Your heart is every bit as kind. You've come so far. Done so much. And it's been painful, and scary, and hard. You've sacrificed, and lost, and come up short. You protected the people you loved. Brought us with you out into the universe and helped us flourish. You never let go of who you were. Not for a second. Benny can attest to that."

"Is that really a good thing?" I asked hoarsely. "Am I doing that for him? Or am I just clinging to the past pointlessly?"
She grinned at me. "So are you a sentimental idiot who can't let go, or are you a heartless monster who buried all your human emotions in a shallow grave? Can't have it both ways, babe. I think we're going to have to face the fact that you're a flawed, stupid person who sometimes does contradictory things because you can't help but get in your own way. Just like you were the day I met you."

She leaned down to kiss me again. "That boy is still in there, I see him every day. And if you lose sight of him, just ask me, and I'll smack him upside the head so can figure out where he is." I started laughing at that, and I didn't stop. Not even when it broke down into more crying. Of course, Callie was watching out for me. She had us under Murmur. By the time the others came looking, I was back in my mask and perfectly stoic. But I felt lighter somehow. I didn't realize until we had already set off for the nearest Void outpost to try to snag a few more points that my head didn't hurt anymore. How interesting.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The rest of the raids went smoothly. We dropped in to help with two others, and to my complete and utter shock, we netted a cool hundred points for our efforts, two thirds of my entire haul up to this point. I was sitting at two hundred and fifty points total, and while I had no clue exactly how useful those would be, I knew from discussions with others that it was a high number for where and when in the competition we were at.


Sadly, there was no possible way to do more in just that hour. In fact, the only reason I'd managed what I had was Callie and I splitting up the support missions for the other two raids. I barely remembered what had gone on. I was distracted, agitated, and honestly just plain out of it. Thoughts of what I'd been through, of possible alliances with the Void, swirled in my head.


By the time I returned to Veltheim, I had already processed everything, and I realized that my soul felt…different. Stronger. I'd hit my cap in terms of color, but apparently I was still capable of clarifying things a bit more. I put that aside though, because now that I'd returned, I had apparently proven myself enough to rate a face to face with Fade's blacksmith about my armor. And I needed that out of the way before we moved on to the A-rank zone, assuming we could get in, since I still hadn't looked into how to do that yet.


Donovan Redfellow had summoned us for a meeting, calling me to the ancestral home of the Hall of Steel. Fade was going to be escorting me, along with Alanna, and Carmichael and Crell were coming along as well, but aside from those four I was essentially flying solo to this little get together, and I had to admit I was a bit nervous.


Not because of the limited escort, mind. But because the results of this meeting were going to have a huge impact on the lives of myself and my friends.


We set off pretty much immediately upon reaching the boarding house. Callie wasn't happy about me going alone, especially given she'd already had to separate from me during the second raid, but I gave her a reassuring smile and a quick kiss, as well as sharing my confidence through the bond, and she calmed down a bit.


Losing my composure like that had helped release a tension I hadn't even known was there, like the pressure had finally let up despite my actual situation not having changed. I felt freer, calmer, more centered. Some of that was probably whatever improvement my soul had undergone. Though I still didn't know what had happened. So…I asked Fade. He was a resource at hand and we were traveling anyway, so I thought maybe he'd have some idea.


When I described the situation to him, he blinked at me. "Huh…you bound a page into your Chronicle." He looked pretty shocked. "I…I've never heard of anyone doing that at D-rank before. I didn't even think it was possible."


I froze. Triggering Piece of Mind, I set a parallel to take up the journey as I dove into the depths of my library, heading right for my Ten Demons Tome. Lifting the heavy book, I flipped it open, and sure enough…the first page was full. In a strange, twisting writing made up of stat points (mostly Vitality, Might, and Fantasy) was the entire story of how I had cleansed the spirits of those dead.


"I…how did I do that?" I asked in a daze. "I wasn't supposed to be able to. Not until at least C-rank, right?"


I went back over my actions, repeating them out loud. Fade was a peak B-ranker, someone with, if not a complete Chronicle, one that wasn't far off. He was the best possible choice to help me figure this out.


"There's a few possibilities," he mused. "First, you were using a C-ranked form. Second, you were cleansing C-ranked ghosts. Third…well, it's possible what you did was just so significant that your Chronicle couldn't resist binding the feat. I'm not sure why freeing a few ghosts would count, though I guess the rank gap is impressive."


But I could see why it might be. Not just the ghosts, but passing the test for the Void vessel. The first step toward a legitimate alliance with Void forces against their own. I had to imagine that was a hell of a feat to accomplish.


"So what is that going to do?" I asked slowly. I've never been clear on that. "What does the bound page accomplish?"


"You can use it as a focus," he shrugged. "For what depends on what you bound into the book. The power involved in that feat, obviously, but there's a reason people pick and choose which feats to bind as best they can, and a reason that the step for A-rank is Authoring the Chronicle. I'd assume you could use that page to boost your purification and soul restoration abilities, if you wanted to."


That wasn't too bad, actually. Zagan was one of my most potent forms, given what it was made of and how incredibly specific it was. Specialization, as Jessie had shown, always made a bigger impression, and hence yielded more impressive results.


I stopped asking questions, considering the possibilities as we traveled. It helped pass the time, and when we finally stopped at the Hall of Steel, my head was mostly on straight. I glanced up the mountain we'd stopped at. There was one path, and it wasn't particularly stable or well crafted. Just a dirt road up the sheer mountain, the top of which held a large temple building made of solid metal.


"Wow," I said as I stared up at the building. "That's definitely…a statement."


"It's gaudy," said Alanna disdainfully. "What is the point of a whole metal temple up on top of a mountain? Waste of good steel."


Fade shrugged. "It's some kind of focus for metalcrafting. Donovan made it. It does SOMETHING, even if none of us have ever quite managed to figure out what. He's implied that it's the reason his blades are always so much better though. He doesn't NEED it, mind, he can and does forge in other places, especially after he retired. But that's why we're here now. It should help with the armor."


"What about the other materials?" I asked as we started our climb. "I mean, I brought the shackles, but if we're making a whole suit that won't be enough. We'll need to cut the alloy with other metals, right?"


"We've got some stock," he shrugged. "As long as you pay what you can, and maybe pass him some scrolls, we can cover the excess. The main issue is we need to make it upgradeable. If we pick specific metals, we can splice in higher ranked versions when you hit B-rank and elevate the armor to A. Especially with the shackles as a core. It's a difficult thing to do with crafting, but with Donovan working for you, it's plausible."


I knew it was also possible to just make the armor A-rank and suppress it to let me use it, like my grandmother had done with Callie's starpluck bangle. But I'd need to not only pay for an A-rank set of armor, but more for the suppression. I didn't have anywhere close to enough to cover that.


As we mounted the path to the top of the mountain, I felt something shift around us. The world warped slightly, flexing in a way I wasn't used to, and I felt the weight of the nearby rock sort of press down on me. Not physically, exactly, but like every step I took captured some of the gravity of the rocks and poured it onto me, making me that much heavier. Every step increased it a bit more.


At first it didn't really matter. My Might was hundreds of thousands of points now, and even with the Impact making this place that much heavier, the extra weight wasn't anything to write home about. To start. After about five minutes though, I was staggering, my body covered in sweat, and my legs were shaking. To my surprise, the others all seemed similarly exhausted, though they weren't showing it the same way. Except Crell, who was wheezing and all but sobbing as he dragged his battered body along the trail.


I glanced at Fade. "Ok, what the hell IS this?" I puffed as I stepped to lean against a wall. "Is this some kind of ambush? Defenses? It's working on you too, clearly." I didn't think it was a trap for that reason.


Fade grinned at me wolfishly. "This is the path of steel. You have to have iron in your spine to climb it. There's a reason we only had one hundred members despite being so popular. It moderates itself to your power level. It's purely a test of willpower and determination. Don't worry, there's a font of life at the top we can use to replenish our energy. But it's a great opportunity. How many things can really push you physically at this point?"


I snorted. It was weird, I should be annoyed. If I'd thought this was game playing, or if Fade hadn't been going through it right beside me I might have been. But it wasn't. It was pretty clear that he hadn't even considered warning me OR taking me a different way (if there was one). He didn't even consider this an imposition, but a gift he was giving me to help me get stronger.


Alanna rolled her eyes. "In the future, you should probably WARN your boss that there's a physical challenge to get into your place."


He blinked at her. "But…it's a trial for entry. You have to do it without any prior knowledge the first time. Otherwise how do you show your dedication?" He glanced at me, puzzled. "You get it, right?"


I rolled my eyes. I'd gotten so used to Fade being stoic and competent I'd neglected to remember that he was a B-rank Ascendant. No one who made it to that rank did so without being kind of weird. Fade's weirdness hadn't shown itself TOO much, but him accepting the fight with Alanna and the way they interacted made it clear that he was just as much a battle maniac as Abel was.


He was right though. This was actually a lot of fun. I was used to strain on the soul, but I rarely had occasion to put pressure on my physical form like this. With how high my Might was, I didn't hit my limits often, and when I did it didn't tend to be slow and steady like this.


"Alright, no use chatting," I said forcefully as I stood up straight. "Let's get back at it. We have a meeting to get to."


Crell groaned as he followed behind me, but I ignored it. Now that I had changed my mindset about this whole thing I was actually getting excited to push through this. I didn't even trigger Zagan for energy. I wanted to do this cold. It felt like reforging my body like this was a perfect prelude to getting my first set of B-rank armor.


It only took about an hour to make it to the top, and when I arrived, I was only extremely out of breath. As soon as I stepped into the courtyard surrounding the temple, the pressure completely vanished, and I bent over to rest my hands on my knees as I panted out the effort for a bit.


"Took you long enough," came a lazy voice. I looked up, not at all surprised to see a tall red haired man with wire rimmed glasses smoking a long pipe. His golden eyes watched me like a hawk, and when they met mine, he grinned around the stem of his smoking implement. "Now that you've arrived, let's get started." He gestured over to a large box full of metal bars. "Go pick those up and follow me." Then he turned and headed inside. The box looked heavy. I sighed and walked over to pick it up. Guess I was going to be helping.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The interior of the metal temple was surprisingly cramped. Most buildings I'd seen were spatially expanded, and this one might have been as well, but if it was, it was expanded and THEN filled with an absurd number of walls and hallways, making every step I took feel like I was walking through a maze.


Normally, that would have been pretty immaterial to my interests…except right now I was exhausted and carrying an INCREDIBLY heavy box of metal bars. The bars were all B-rank, and Impact interacted strangely with gravity when it came to certain concentrations and environments. Or maybe the metal was just literally hundreds of thousands of pounds, I couldn't say. What I could say was that it was really heavy, and I was having trouble keeping on my feet dragging the box.


"Why?" I wheezed as I trailed behind Donovan. "Am I carrying this? I have four different B-rankers working for me, and they're all less than ten feet away and could take this off my hands in an instant."


There was a slight whistle and I staggered as something smacked me upside the head. "OW!?" I snapped, glaring at Donovan. "What the hell was that for?"


The red haired smith was holding what appeared to be a long blue LEEK, at least if I knew my vegetables as well as I thought. He sneered at me. "Fool! I'm here to design you the most effective suit of armor possible for you. I need to see how you move under pressure, how you comport yourself when tired, and I need those bars in my forge and don't feel like carrying them."


I grimaced, but eventually nodded, sighing in frustration. "Ok, yeah, I guess I can see wh- OW!" Another slap across the face.


"Fool!" Donovan barked again. "You're humoring me! If you have a problem with my methods, speak up, boy! No one is going to respect a leader that panders to his subordinates like some whimpering child."


"If you hit me with that thing again, I'm going to-" another slap. "Ow! Shit will you stop that?"


He snorted. "Fool! Don't make idle threats. Makes you look ineffective. And don't talk back to your elders!"


I bit my tongue, glaring at him hatefully, but he didn't seem to notice, scurrying off into the hall as he caught sight of a room that had just revealed itself. I turned to glare at Fade. "You couldn't have warned me?"


The Lord of the Hall of Steel shrugged. "Wouldn't have helped. He does what he does. You're lucky he played nice until you got inside. He must like you. The leek of education usually comes out with the first bit of criticism. I was expecting you to get smacked for being late. Speaking of which, I'd hurry inside with those bars."


Cursing, I scrambled into the room after Donovan, hoping to avoid that weirdly painful leek hitting me again. When I arrived inside, I was relieved to find Donovan stoking a forge, clearly focused more on the act of doing so than my presence. I was intrigued, because rather than use a lighter or some ability, he had his pipe out and was tapping the ashes into the forge, which roared up with each tap.


I cocked my head at him as I dropped the box with a rattling thump. "Magic pipe?" I asked with interest.


He popped it back into his mouth, puffing it, and I was surprised to see the bowl of the pipe start to glow. He winked at me. "Something like that," he grinned, his teeth bared as they clamped down on the stem. "Now, dump the box."


"What?" I asked in confusion. "But I just- OW! Fuck, will you stop that?"


The older man just raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to yell at me. I sighed, then leaned over and grabbed the box, tipping it sideways and sending a bunch of random bars of metal across the floor. "Your focus item," he demanded, pointing at the forge. I withdrew the shackles, tossing them into the forge directly as he gestured for me to do.


He weighed the leek in his hand, then, with a blurring flick of his wrist, he slapped one of the nearest bars of metal. Then another. Then a third. Each bar was…different. Color, shine, they all had slight variations, but more than that, each time the leek hit, they made a slightly different sound.


Donovan didn't break eye contact as he smacked them. Meanwhile, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shackles slowly start to glow. Very slowly. "Sarcassian Pit Steel," he said musingly. "Unexpected."


He smacked one of the bars again, squinting. "Desrick Phase Iron. That one makes more sense." He tapped five or six more, stopping and going back to one of them.
Pallax Platinum. And…Wraithcopper. Is that enough?" He finally broke eye contact, looking over the bars musingly, lips twisted uncertainly. Then he smacked the rest of the bars. Twice. "Arcadian Lifeiron. And Verixian Tin." He sniffed the air a few times, then flicked the leek sideways, knocking the dimly glowing shackles to the side, and then nodding.


I blinked at him. "Wait…was that why you were hitting me? You were using the leek to like…calibrate my armor?"


He smacked me upside the head again, too fast to track. "Fool," he said, this one much milder. "Don't question your elders. Pick up the bars I just gestured to, and dump them in that crucible over there." He gestured to a colossal bowl made of some kind of rock set on some kind of metal tong setup. Sighing, I grabbed all the bars and carried them over one by one. Before I dropped in two of them, he held out the leek, pressing it to my chest and stopping me cold. "Not those two," he corrected. He had me separate out the tin and copper, dumping the rest in the crucible.


Then he had me lift the absurdly heavy crucible and carry the thing over to set it in the forge, to one side of where the shackles were still sitting. Once he had, he reached under a nearby bench and pulled out another crucible. Slapping it down, he used the leek to hook the red hot shackles and drop them into the crucible. He twirled the leek three times, and there was a rumble before a bolt of blue lightning crashed through the ceiling (literally THROUGH it, there was a hole) and sheathed the baton shaped weapon in electricity.


When the electricity cleared, the leek was gone, replaced by a lang handled ballpeen hammer. The hammer crackled with azure lightning, and he swung it sideways and slammed it into the crucible where the shackles lay.


There was a mighty gong sound, and the electricity on the hammer jumped to the crucible. The stone bowl began to glow, and the electricity did…something Reacting with the banked flames in the coal of the forge. The crucible started to shake, glowing an orangish blue color as the heat began to climb rapidly. "Throw them in," he said, gesturing to the last two bars. "Quickly now, boy, we don't have all day."


I did, and as they plunked into the crucible, Donovan turned and whirled his magic hammer. Once. Twice. Three times over his head before bringing it crashing down on a table nearby. A stone table.


When the hammer struck, there was a resounding crash, and the stone splintered. About three quarters of the slab collapsed into rubble, clattering to the floor like a rain of teeth and leaving behind what appeared to be a perfect stone approximation of…well, me. Donovan turned to smirk at me. "That, boy, is why I was hitting you. Now go get the big one. We need to do this right. Timing is crucial."


As I hefted the huge cauldron of melted black metal, he easily lifted the other one with a single hand. He gestured for me to head over to the stone idol of my body, and when I arrived, he had me tip the crucible over onto it. Faster than my eyes could track, his hammer licked out, smacking several spots on the stone. Lightning clung to the rock, attracting the melted metal like it was magnetized.


The black metal flowed over every inch of the statue, coating it, and started to thicken, seeming to expand outward like it was gaining mass. He tipped the second crucible, the gleaming bronze metal spearing into the black mass and burrowing in like a river wearing down a canyon. He tapped the metal a few times, reaching down to SPIN the table on an axis I hadn't even seen before he used it. It whirled sideways so fast it almost turned into a circle, and the hammer flashed a few more times, deflating or shaping the black metal so fast I could barely track it. He turned and grinned at me. "Now, for the fun part. Back away, boy, unless you feel like experiencing life as a pile of ash." I did, and he turned on his heel, hauling back on the hammer and SMASHING it down into the steel floor.


Another gong, this one resonating through the whole building, split the air as the electricity roared over the walls and floor. He swung again, and the voltage seemed to climb. The armor still spun, and with the third strike, he slammed the hammer dead on into the chest. The floor shook again, and all the electricity in the walls and floor jumped to the armor. There was a sort crack and the armor…shrank.


The next hit did something similar. And the one after. He struck the spinning armor like a master potter shaping clay, carefully altering and smoothing in ways I could barely understand. The ballooned hunk of black metal with bronze traceries started to writhe and twitch, collapsing down on itself. As the dark metal condensed, shrinking to the proportions of a normal suit of armor.


As it shrank, the bronze crawled over the surface of the plate, sliding into the spots where joints would be, over plates as runes, and finally congregating in the center of the chest into a circular bronze plate sporting my own symbol, the one I hadn't seen in ages, not since my time back on Callus.


With one final swing, the electricity exploded off the armor in a wave of unseen force that ruffled my hair and pushed me back a step. Donovan was panting, leaning over with his hammer as a cane. "Almost done," he told me. "Just one last step." He hefted the hammer with a grunt , bringing it down hard on the exposed head of the stone statue where the metal had pulled away from it during the plate formation.


Blue energy surged into the stone and it cracked, spiderwebs of blue energy crawling over the surface of what I could see. Then it collapsed, turning into grey dust that blew away from inside the armor, leaving just my suit of plate lying on the table base the stone had been sat on.


I stepped closer, in awe at the new suit. "It's…it's beautiful."


"It is," Donovan said proudly. "You gonna name it or just stand there and stroke it like it's a fuzzy puppy?"


I grinned down at it, running my fingers over it. It was exactly what I wanted. I considered a possible name. This suit was different than my Tree. It was part of me, sure, but not the same way. This wasn't Shane's armor. It belonged to my other self. The symbol, the traceries of bronze lighting up the midnight black iron. My lips pulled back into a wolfish grin.


My fingers flitted over the bronze plate with my symbol on it. This armor would contain and enhance my forms, would work with me and augment my power. Every demon in my Goetia staff art would be bound within this plate. I knew exactly what its name was. "I'll call it…the Seal of Solomon."

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The Seal was…impressive. Slipping into it was deceptively easy, for one thing. It looked bulky and imposing, and it was, but it was also fluid and surprisingly mobile. I was able to open it up and slip inside with no trouble. More than that, my wings slid free of the metal like there was a custom made slot for them, and once they did, I was able to move and walk with almost no resistance at all.


"The articulation on this is insane," I said as I moved back and forth, bending and stretching to check my range of motion. Examining the spots, I was able to identify why that was the case too. The bronze that was the connection between individual iron pieces had sort of grafted to both sides, but in a strange way that made it seem almost like actual joints. "I really don't know if I have enough to cover this. Two hundred seventy five B-ranked chits and some change. Can't possibly be enough."


I emptied my pockets, so to speak. Honestly, I wasn't lying though. What felt like a literal fortune at the auction suddenly seemed woefully short of what was deserved.


Up to this point, I had always focused on utility for my gear. What it could do, how it did it, and how it could enhance my powers. And that was a feature of The Seal, for sure. It could channel my forms perfectly, I could already feel that.


But beyond that, it was also just…good armor. Utility was important and impressive, but I already HAD almost every kind of utility. The Seal of Solomon wasn't some amplifier that I carried around at all times. It was…art. It was pure unrestrained defensive power combined with flawless mobility.


There was value in specificity. Ascendants had been proving that for years, and this was a clear example of why. Rather than go with some super special trick ability, I just got REALLY good armor. And honestly? It was better.


He waved me off. "Fool," he said lazily. I flinched on reflex, expecting to get smacked, but nothing hit me. He just chuckled. "You're covered. I'm looking forward to leaving this place. I've spent most of my life on this planet. Not all, but most. I'm ready to move on to another adventure. Which begs the question. Are you willing to take me with you?"


"I mean, I would prefer you learn to use a measuring tape instead of slapping the shit out of people with a blue vegetable," I admitted. "But…after this? Hell yes. This is…mindblowing. It's also less weight on my soul than expected." Part of that might have been my first bound page making my Chronicle sturdier, but it was still impressive. "In any case, yes, you're in. Obviously. When we go to the A-rank zone, you can come along."


Which brought up another point. "Speaking of which," I said leadingly. "I never did find out how to actually GET there. I know the A-rank zone is small, and polar. I know there's only one A-rank city on either side of the planet. But I don't know how much of the zone it takes up."


"All of it," he said with a laugh. "The twin cities on the poles of this planet are connected through the core. An endless staircase from one to the other. But apart from those stairs, there's only four gates by which you can enter them. Arcadia and Albion, the shining jewels of the frozen heights. Not just the polar limits of the planet, but the highest point. A massive plateau of glacial ice on either end, surrounded by an impenetrable wall."


I could tell from his hushed tones that he'd seen them but never been inside. "Entry to Arcadia, the closest city is…" he shook his head. "Either be an A-ranker or be the personal retinue of one. There are less than one hundred thousand people in the whole city. Obviously, they're not ALL A-rank, but the B-ranks that make it inside are either terrifyingly wealthy or powerful. Or both."


"Well, that's not ideal," I sighed. "But it's not like we're going in blind. Our own A-rankers are in there. And my parents aren't the type to sit on their hands while the rest of us play around."


Not to mention Zeke. Anything Crell could do, Zeke could do better. I'd be shocked if my Uncle didn't already have an apparatus in place for intelligence inside Arcadia. Donovan shook his head. "That isn't the issue," he said grimly. "The issue is the intake. Those four gates are impregnable. The city is a fortress. The gates are the only weak spots, and only barely. And they only open once a week."


"Ok, so we wait a few days," I shrugged. I glanced at Fade, who had entered behind us and was waiting silently nearby. "What am I missing here?"


"Fatal funnel," he said bluntly. "The platforms to enter the gates are killboxes. Normally there are a few people heading up, and no one bothers starting anything. In this case, you're all competitors."


I grimaced. Despite my cousins realizing that this was an emergency and doing their best to deconstruct the Void influence on this planet, I had no illusions that the majority of them would pass up a chance to shoot some fish in a barrel. The faction behind Delia and Roland might be all about togetherness and family unity, but it was clear they weren't ascendant at the moment. Whoever ran the faction in opposition clearly enjoyed the bloodsport that embodied the worst of the succession war. Whoever their representatives were would almost definitely take a shot at whoever was nearby.


More importantly, Arcadia had four entrances, and there were eight cities in the B-rank zone. That meant I wouldn't just be interacting with the relatives I was familiar with, but another crop of dangerous unknown cousins who might be just as strong if not stronger then the ones on my side.


"What about the A-rankers?" I asked slowly. "Will they be aware of the incoming crop? I can't imagine entry is common, and especially not large amounts of people like will be incoming with us. Won't they step out to help?"


My parents were both monsters. Not morally (though you could make a solid case for my dad) but in terms of combat potential. My mother was intergalactically famous, and had two different abilities, one of which was inherited directly from a sitting pope. My father was a former candidate so feared that even the current Wishmaster, a man who essentially did whatever the hell he wanted by sheer force of arms even inside the WCP, considered him a peer.


Not to mention they had been married for decades and knew each other inside and out, and I had heard it implied several times that Zeke contributed to their group combat dynamic heavily. The three of them together would be the kind of threat that basically no other group of A-rankers would be able to touch.


Which, of course, meant next to nothing if they were outnumbered twenty to one. The simple truth of it was, I had no clue how many A-rankers were on this planet.


While the common axiom that there were one hundred S-rankers (an estimate I had been informed by Zeke) was well known, the actual number of A-rank Ascendants in the universe was…difficult to quantify. S-rank was a staggering leap in difficulty from A, that wasn't in doubt, and I was fairly certain the number was at least in the five digits, if not six.


It was hard to conceptualize, really, given how rare they seemed to me, but I had spent most of my time on lower tier planets and in special environments that specifically catered to lower ranked Ascendants. Beyond that, I wasn't entirely sure ANY of the numbers I'd been given for the numbers of Ascendants took into account god worlds, since they didn't seem to be common knowledge at certain levels of Ascendant society.


All this was to say that I had no idea how many enemies my parents would be up against, how many locals lived in the city at their rank, or how many of the candidates even brought A-rankers. I didn't believe that the thousands of candidates all had five A-rankers each. It wasn't feasible. There were like ten thousand candidates on this planet, and even if there were fifty thousand A-rankers in the universe, which there very well could be, I highly doubted my family had access to whatever percentage of the A-rank population that represented, regardless of how much money or influence we had.


Donovan seemed to sense my worry, and waved me off. "The A-rankers won't get involved. THe political situation inside the shining cities is complicated but mostly balanced. Even with newcomers, given the weeks you've been on world, there's no way some equilibrium hasn't been reached. No one faction will move lest they disturb the others and kick over the proverbial beehive."


Sighing, I headed out of the Hall. My new armor flexed comfortingly around me, almost propelling me it was so smooth. Crell, Carmichael, and Alanna had been waiting outside, and when they saw me, Crell let out a long whistle of awe. "Damn, boss. You look scary. And expensive. I'm kind of worried someone will try to kidnap you for your armor."


I paused, then turned to Donovan. "Is that…is that something that might happen?"


He shrugged. "Hypothetically possible, but unlikely. That suit is custom designed. It fits you like a second skin, and you're a bigger than average man. It wouldn't fit most people, and honestly, a B-rank suit of armor wouldn't be enough to piss off your collective forces here. Not to mention the suit is monogrammed. It has your symbol right on the front, and trust me, nobody is going to be melting down or reworking that armor. All in all, not worth the trouble to steal it."


Fade nodded. "He's right. They would just kill you and chop it up into scrap if they had the resources to unload it in the first place. Sure it would lose some value, but it would be much easier to sell in pieces. Most people don't have the resources to buy a full suit like that. You definitely didn't."


I glared at both of them. "You are the least comforting people I know. Now, is there a path down this damned mountain that doesn't require me to drag my aching carcass down the path? Because I don't even want to consider the possible power interaction between that trial and the weight of this armor."


"That…is a good point," admitted Donovan. "I suppose we can take the elevator."


I froze, then turned to glare at Fade. "There's…an ELEVATOR?" I asked him in a tone of barely constrained fury. "I knew there might be a non enchanted path, but you walked us past an ELEVATOR?"


"The elevator is for cargo," he explained sincerely. "Not people."


Now even Donovan was staring at him. Alanna pinched the bridge of her nose. "How are you any good with a sword? Your brain is made of rocks. Or possibly chunks of steel. The fact that you beat me in a fight is the most humiliating thing that's ever happened to me."


We all laughed, except Fade who looked mildly perturbed, which I took to be his version of pouting. We followed Donovan across the courtyard to a small fountain. He pressed a few of the rocks, and there was a low rumble as the water drained away. We all climbed in, and then the floor of the fountain began to slowly lower into the darkness.


We all chattered as we descended, but I started to tune it out. With the Void incursion temporarily taken care of and my armor acquired, not to mention my new blacksmith, I was now officially ready to head for the A-rank zone. I would be seeing my parents soon enough, provided I didn't die first. Hopefully it went better than my last family reunion.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"That armor is badass," Benny said enthusiastically as he studied my new suit. "I mean, obviously, but like…the craftsmanship is insane. In fact, it's ALMOST as good as my new piece of gear. Well…pieces. I just finished my most recent project. Want to see it in action?" I'd called everyone together to tell them about Arcadia, but I had to admit, given how much time my best friend had spent on his newest project, I was excited to see what he could do.


Callie sighed. "Shane, I feel like you had something important to share," she tried feebly. She knew it wouldn't matter, but she always at least tried to keep me on task.


And as in most cases, she failed. "Nah, it'll keep. It's not like we have to be anywhere in the next ten minutes. Come on Benny, lets go out to the training yard. My armor is sturdy enough to take anything you can throw at it, so you can give me a live demonstration." Not to mention I was about five times as strong as him, so I wasn't worried.


Clearly he was confident in his new equipment, because he didn't even bat an eye. "Hell yes, you're going to love this."


My wife didn't look appeased, so I took out a couple pages of information I'd scribbled down about Arcadia and held it out to her. She squinted suspiciously but finally took it with a sigh, nodding for me to go off and have fun.


Everyone else filed in behind us as we left, eager to see Benny's new gear. His ability had changed in ways we didn't all understand, and he'd been working hard on the soul weapon he was creating. It had been built around the axe we had gotten from the siege back when we first arrived on the heirworld, and included infinity crystal and the gods knew what else.


When we arrived outside, Benny was practically bouncing with excitement. "This is going to be good. You ready Shane?"


Celine, who was among the close friends who had followed us, looked worried. "Ben, this might not be a good idea. I mean, his staff and armor are both B-ranked, right? I know your new item is strong but…"


"It'll be fine," I assured her. "We're sparring. I'm not saying I'm not going to throw him a beating, but I wouldn't actually hurt him." I grinned tauntingly at my friend. "As for hurting me…well, I don't see that happening. But hey, if you can surprise me maybe I'll apologize. You seem pretty confident."


As expected, the fire in his eyes blazed brighter. Benny wasn't the kind of person who wanted to be coddled or babied. His new gear needed testing, and he wouldn't have enjoyed the process if I didn't talk a little shit about it.


Amusingly, I could feel anxiety from Callie, and my sister looked uncomfortable at the taunts. The two of them were familiar with our dynamic, but they hadn't seen Benny ever get REALLY passionate about something before. It was sweet of them to worry, but unnecessary. "So, before we start, why don't you introduce your new invention?"


"Inventions. Plural," he corrected. He held up both hands. "The axe got split in two. I put one blade into each hand, and they're infused with infinity crystal dust." He straightened his hand into a flat blade and jerked it through the air. I heard a soft hiss as it split the air itself, and I could see the disturbance behind the attack. It looked surprisingly intimidating. "My phantom blades can ALSO be channeled through weapons. They're soul items, so I can use the abilities within them a lot easier than I used to. Not to mention they can grow alongside me."


I grinned at him. "Sounds like fun. How do they pair with that Dance of the Dracolich you created. You get any better at that?"


His eyes lit up with a manic energy. "Why don't you come find out." His hands flicked and a pair of swords appeared in them. He'd withdrawn them from his spatial ring, only…I blinked at him. "Wait, did you integrate your space ring?"


"Yup, left forearm," he preened. "Along with the two axe blades I'm at seventeen of my twenty slots. I've mostly been upgrading the stuff I have to my current rank the last few months as best I can. Getting my hands on the souls is proving tough, but I've gotten pretty close. I was considering swapping everything out with new gear but honestly stuff like my triple multiplier boosts is too rare to get rid of, so it didn't seem worth it when I still had a bunch of empty slots left. Now I'm down to three, but I can always remove something later if I need to."


I nodded, but wasn't too worried. Triple his stats for a few minutes was damned useful, but I was pretty much five times his total at this point. I was pretty sure triple his Might would be more than mine, but I was also aware that numbers weren't everything. Between forms like Sammael and my Path I was more than used to taking on stronger opponents.


Behind him, a figure wavered into existence. A colossal bone dragon with eyes of burning green flame. I'd seen it before, but it had changed somehow. Rather than the same white as the rest of the bone, the empty wing skeletons were darker now. They had a sort of striated metallic look at the end, black along the length and then fading to metal. Like an axe head. The metallic talond at the end glimmered with an almost unnatural coruscation of colors, rainbow metal shimmering as the light struck them.


Benny had his pair of swords up and in front of him in a strange spread stance. One blade low and at an angle away from his body and the other high and at a diagonal across him for protection.


His feet started to slide, first forward, then back. Not like walking, but more like he was trying to build up a charge of static rubbing them on carpet. His body tilted…and then he vanished.


I whirled, my staff manifesting as I spun, and the ends licked out in succession, slapping aside his blades on the flat. His eyes widened, and he stumbled back. I pressed the attack, my staff blurring as I started flicking probing strikes at the openings in his form.


Dantalion activated. I could have done more, but I wanted this to be close to even at least. It wasn't about winning. I could do that a lot of ways. I was stronger. It was about helping, showing Benny where he needed to improve. He's integrated the new tech to improve his technique, but he hadn't adapted the actual sword art yet. "Did you just teleport?" I asked him casually as Dantalion deconstructed his sword technique.


He chuckled through gritted teeth, vanishing again. My Danger Sense pinged and I reacted with a waltz, vanishing in a flash of black flames as I appeared behind him, attacking in return. "Nope," he gritted out. "I cut the space. It's one of my many new tricks. Like THIS!" There was a flash of dark metal, and the six spider legs built into his back shot out, attacking at multiple angles. They spread like wings, and the Dracolich power infused them, dyeing them the same colors as the wing tips.


Cursing, I waltzed again, avoiding the attacks, but my lips were peeled back in a grin. Then I blitzed forward, flashing through a series of waltzes to try to trip him up. His swords sang, somehow in perfect harmony with the spider legs, all operating as a whole under the influence of his Path. He wasn't engaging the manifestation to attack directly, I didn't think he could yet, but he was using it to create a sort of structure for this fight, and it was helping him operate multiple limbs at once.


More than just that, the limbs and blades were cutting into the air in a way that made it clear that I did NOT want to experience them head on. The swords flicked at my throat and leg, and my staff lashed out to deflect them, and I detected a surge of discomfort from the Ten Demons Tree when they landed. It wasn't enough to do much real damage, but it DID cut some faint grooves in the surface, even if they faded almost immediately.


It was an impressive showing…but sadly it wasn't enough. We kept up the fight for several minutes, but the stat boosters he have only worked for five minutes each. Once his Might dropped back down below mine, the coordination couldn't offset the difference in power. I took his feet out from under him with a sweep and he hit the ground with a thud.


I dismissed my staff and offered a hand to help him up. "What the hell was that last thing? How did you affect my staff?"


It was a B-rank weapon, and while he hadn't been able to do much to it, he had done SOMETHING. I wasn't sure what rank those axe blades were, since the soul of the person used to make them had probably been higher than his actual rank and I didn't know how that worked when crafting, but it couldn't be more than C. It was impossible for Benny to use a B-rank weapon without a Chronicle.


He waggled a hand. "I didn't exactly. I kind of cheated. Those slashes cut space, kind of, but it's more like…shaped portals. It teleported a layer off the outside of your staff. It took a second for it to register as an attack, and then it bounced off the Impact. But there's a bit of wiggle room with that kind of thing. It has to do with how you perceive threats. Now that you know it won't work again. But it's a good trick. I THINK I could cut into a C-ranker with that attack. It's hard to do it though. It involves…well, it's hard to describe. When I do that teleporting trick it eats space. Then I use it to form the portals. It's a Dracolich thing."


I shrugged. I was sure it made internal sense. Path bullshit was complicated and hard to track if you didn't have access to the full story. Adding and tweaking internal consistency to align the effects with your motivations, personality, AND the way people saw you (because the stats that made up the Solid Path were formed from your mythology) made the whole thing a very personal and deeply complex manifestation of a person's power and self.


Though I still didn't know the exact details of how a Domain was formed, I was pretty sure it was based on that unique combination of factors. Benny's sounded damned impressive. "Anyway," my best friend grinned. "I just thought you seeing what I could do might tweak things in my favor on the next leg of the journey. I take it from the meeting request that we're leaving soon. And based on how serious you sounded its going to be on an important mission."


I laughed at that, but he didn't join in. I stopped. "That- are you serious? You did all that to get a spot on the assault team? We're moving up to the next zone, everyone is coming with. You didn't need to-"


"Bullshit," he said bluntly. "You have a lineup. A core group of frontliners. And I'm not one of them. Not anymore. You bench me every chance you get. Which I understand, I'm not the strongest fighter here. But this is a dangerous technique. I've spent months working on all of this, doing everything I can to get stronger so I can help."


"And we're going to need it," Callie said as she emerged from the boarding house, holding up the papers. "I was going over the details in this, and I think we have a problem. There are very exacting standards to build the Void Ladder. I originally assumed they would use the fire cage somehow, but from what I can tell, this staircase would work just as well. Maybe better. Which means…"


I sighed. "Which means that the Void infiltrators will be scrambling to get in if they aren't already there. Our trip up to Arcadia is going to be about ten times more dangerous. Great." Because of course. It never rained but it poured.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

"So, I have a plan," I said as we stared up at the platforms to Arcadia. They nearest one to us was apparently the West gate. It was about a hundred miles outside of Veltheim. It had been a week since my duel with Benny (fifty six more scrolls put me at two hundred thirty two), and I had gathered most of my main combat force here, with the majority of the army inside Bethy's domain.


Ellie, Felicity, Callie, Gabe, Chelsea, Benny, Bethy, Mel, Abel, Carmichael, Crell, Alanna, and Fade were the only ones outside with me. Thirteen of my strongest and most trusted friends willing to follow me into the gates of hell. Granted, they weren't all willing to do it QUIETLY.


"Is it a good plan?" Benny asked politely. "Because based on even a rudimentary ability to recognize patterns, I'm a little worried."


I glared at him. "Can you use your pattern recognition ability to predict what I'm going to say next? Because if not, it's not that impressive after all, and if you can, then why are you not already shutting up?"


He zipped his lips (which were smirking) and mimed throwing away the key, and I huffed and turned back to the others. "Now, as for my completely reasonable and totally tactically sound plan," I continued harshly. "We're going to get on the platform. And everyone is going to group up facing out. And Abel and Bethy are going to combine forces and cover us with a blood sea infused Domain."


They all just stared at me. Like they were waiting. Then Callie sighed. "Shane…that's not a plan. It's an ACTION, but plans involve steps and predicting outcomes. You just basically said the plan is to block really hard."


"It worked last time," I shrugged. "If it ain't broke don't fix it."


My sister pinched the bridge of her nose. "The Universe is doomed. Either the Void will get us or my brother will become the Wishmaster and it will signal the end of days."


"I cordially invite you to join Benny in shutting up," I told her dryly. "Besides. That's not the WHOLE plan. We also have allies. My cousins are coming. And not just the few you met. Delia and Roland have been in touch, and they're joining up for this push. Apparently Roland knows my dad, and is terrified of him. He agreed to work with us in exchange for me putting in a good word with the old man. I guess Roland's dad and mine are enemies and he's worried dad might rip his soul out or something."


Chelsea look unhappy. "He wouldn't do that." She looked around at everyone else, who was very deliberately not looking back. "What? Dad's power is contract based. He needs permission to take someone's soul."


I was almost positive, based on my own experience, that he did NOT need that, or at least that the permission didn't need to be spoken with full faculties by an adult person. I didn't see a reason to make my sister sad though, so I kept quiet about that. The others followed suit, and I gave Benny and Callie a relieved nod.


Luckily, we didn't have too long to wait. Delia, Roland, Derrick, Nadia, Charlie, and Alys all arrived posthaste, their respective guards trailing behind. Once they joined us, our tight grouping of thirteen turned into more like a hundred, and I couldn't help but sigh.


Delia smiled at me, probably the warmest expression I'd ever seen from her, though it was so faint I might have missed it with normal senses. "Managing such a large gathering is a daunting prospect," she said with mild amusement. "Especially with us all being Wyndhams. I can say from experience, managing so much family is like herding cats."


"Drunk cats," I added. "With rabies. But it's better than the alternative."


I turned to glance at the platform in the distance.


It was…big. That was the only word for it. A huge grey stone plate hooked into an equally large metal rail set into the wall of a glacier so tall I literally couldn't see the top of it. The whole thing vanished into clouds a few miles up. However high it went, it wouldn't be a quick ride. Not on a platform that size.


Delia nodded. "I share your worry. Such a location is rife with opportunities for ambush. But it is a path we must take. You sent a message to your parents?"


"I did," I agreed. "Did you and Roland bring A-rankers along? I never asked."


She nodded. "My Aunt and her husband for me. Roland brought a cousin on his mother's side. I still can't believe you brought the full five. I thought only the branch heirs would manage to recruit so many power players."


"What can I say," I shrugged. "Ascending is the family business. And business is good. You're all just lucky they banned S-rankers. I could have managed at least three of those. And I MIGHT have been able to get The Vampire to show up." They stared at me in horror and I couldn't help but chuckle.


Bethy thought it was funny too. "I think he might have said yes just to watch all the branch leaders wet themselves."


"You're stalling," commented Abel. I glowered at him and he shrugged. "I didn't say I don't GET why you're stalling. Just figured someone should point it out. Personally I wouldn't mind a few days vacation. I love a good fight, but I didn't finish taste testing all the food stalls in Veltheim yet."


"Where the hell did you find food stalls?" I asked in confusion. "I didn't see anything like that." Then I shook my head, holding up a hand. "No. Stop. You're right. I AM stalling. Alright, we're all here. Let's get going. Keep your eyes peeled everybody." Then I narrowed my eyes as I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. "Damn it Bethy, put that AWAY, I know it's not a real eyeball." My vampire friend froze, her nail slowly skinning what I was almost sure was a white grape with a markered on pupil, and pouted.


Despite the ridiculousness of the action, it did successfully break the tension, which I appreciated. Still, we were all pretty keyed up as we walked slowly in formation towards the huge stone platform.


When we arrived, I was even more stunned by the device. It wasn't just large, it was intricate. The whole thing was carved with strange patterns and complicated reliefs. I also noticed that we weren't the first to arrive. My lips peeled back as I noticed two familiar faces. Rega and Pallax. Standing with them was sneaky cousin Wesley, and another person I didn't know. Delia caught me looking, then followed my gaze and grimaced. "Kent," she said sourly. "That is…unfortunate."


Roland sneered at the tall thin man with the greasy black hair. "Unfortunate for him maybe. If he tries anything I'll gut him without a second thought."


She shook her head. "You know it won't be that easy. Kent is a nightmare to deal with in a fight. His Stealth ability is nearly unparalleled in the family. But more importantly, he has Shelby with him." She nodded past him at a hooded form I had to really focus on to spot. I suspected Kent might have been keeping her obscured, but paying attention was enough to bypass whatever he was doing.


Shelby did not look impressive. I'd seen a lot of powerful looking warriors since I got here. Tall and imposing, muscular and hard bitten. Shelby looked…kind of like Jessie, actually. She was small and blonde, with a round face and big blue eyes. She had a wide smile and dimples, and her hair was braided at random spots in small thin braids, the whole effect of which made her look like she was going to the shops with friends or something.


She was in good shape, granted, but we all were, and the only real clue to her being anything but a normal, cheerful girl was the frankly ludicrous axe perched on her shoulder. A very sharp looking, very scary B-ranked axe that REEKED of blood and death.


Roland grimaced. "I missed her. He was covering her with stealth. I can take her, I think, but I'm not sure I'd be good for anything else. She's…dangerous."


She also had good senses, because when he mentioned her, she turned and gave him a wide, cheerful smile and a friendly wave. Unlike Alys though, Shelby looked…wrong. It took me a second to realize why. It was her eyes. Her smile was wide and genuine and her dimples made her seem sweet and likable, but her eyes looked like chips of frozen cyanide. Cold and poisonous and very deadly. Shelby was a wolf in sheep's clothing if I'd ever seen one. And I basically LIVED with Bethy, so I knew what I was talking about.


Kent, the candidate with her (they were both B-rank) ambled over with a smarmy grin on his face. "Delia, Roland, how lovely," he all but cooed, clearly thrilled by their dislike and the discomfort it caused them. I already did not care for him. "I suppose we're taking the trip together. I didn't see you back in Sparklev, so I suppose you ended up in the other spoke city that borders this place. I'm surprised so many of us arrived here. Derran is here somewhere too."


Roland actually brightened a bit at that. "Derran is always a welcome addition to any proceedings. Have you seen him since we arrived?"


"He hasn't," came a relaxed voice from behind us. "But he will now, as will you." We all turned to find a tall, tan man with Wyndham green eyes. "Roland, good to see you. You remember Kara." He nodded to the tall redhead next to him with literal hawk eyes. The two of them were, obviously, also B-rank.


Roland nodded back with a warm smile. "Derran. Glad you made it. I trust you were able to avoid most of the Void influence?"


Derran chuckled. "Oh I sidestepped all of that. You know me. I'm the cautious type. Bit low on points, but then, I don't have much need of local muscle. My father is here representing me personally, you know."


To my shock, Roland actually FLINCHED. "Davis is here? That's…good. I suppose. You know Elijah is here representing his own son, right?"


That didn't seem to sit well with Derran, whose eyes snapped to me. "No," he said slowly. "I knew his kid was in the competition but I didn't know he was here. I'm almost positive it won't come to anything. My mother doesn't HATE her half brother. She just finds him insufferable. And last I heard my father and Elijah aren't on bad terms, even if they're also not on good ones."


I blinked at that, processing the information. "Wait…half brother?" I asked. "So that would make you-"


"Your cousin," he said with a smirk. "An actual blood cousin, not the euphemistic kind we use to refer to people several generations distant. My mother is Arabella Wyndham. Malachai's oldest daughter."


I nodded along at that. My grandfather had more than a dozen kids, and only two of them shared a mother with my dad. I'd met one of my other uncles, though it hadn't been a pleasant experience. I assumed Davis was an A-ranker if he was married to Arabella and could be expected to be a match for my dad. I held out a hand. "Huh. Well, nice to meet you then. I'm Shane, as you seemed to already know."


He shook my hand with a laugh. "Knowledge is power. I do my best to stay informed of the goings on of the various branches and factions, though seem to have slipped through that net for the most part." We chatted a bit longer, but were interrupted by a lurch. I flinched and looked down, and sure enough, the ground was starting to move. "Hold tight everyone," my newest cousin commented. "Seems like the ride has begun."

 

[Malcolm Tent]

The trip up the glacier was tense. I'd expected that, with all of us stuck together in a very small area (relatively speaking) and unable to leave. Given the rank of the planet, the distance to the ground, and the makeup of the rock at the bottom, for anyone who DIDN'T have wings, falling off this platform was going to be a quick trip to the morgue, assuming there was even enough left to bother burying.


Luckily, we were in a decent position. Roland and Delia were serious heavy hitters, and with my newfound cousin being friendly with the former, that meant most of the B-rankers on this platform were pretty safely in our corner. Most. Kent and Shelby were obviously not allies, but we outnumbered them by quite a bit. Unfortunately, those weren't the only B-rankers here, just the closest ones we'd interacted with, and once we got moving, factions started to form quick.


Kent and Shelby attracted another sixteen B-rankers, most of them allied with weaker candidates. I wasn't sure if some of my less industrious distant cousins had failed to fill all ten slots, if some of their B-rankers had died, or if they were just avoiding showing their full force somehow like we were with Bethy, but whatever the case I was sure we were only scratching the surface in terms of numbers. There were about two hundred people on this platform, and probably half of them were B-rank, though naturally only a few of those were actual Wyndhams.


Which put me distinctly off balance, and made me VERY uncomfortable. It was impossible to say where our side stood in terms of alliance strength, given how independent everyone seemed to be, but the general impression I got of this place was definitely 'powder keg'.


My only consolation was that at least I had a new relative to get to know. Derran had settled nearby and was happily chatting with Chelsea and I. He'd been shocked I'd brought my twin sister with me, given her lacking candidacy, but didn't seem at all unhappy to meet her. We were getting to know a bit about his mother, and I was fielding some questions about dad.


"So is he really as terrifying as he's made out to be?" Derran said contemplatively. "Some of the rumors-"


I shrugged. "Most are probably true. He's a complicated person. I love him, but I don't like him very much most of the time. He's…cold. Distant at the best of times. I've been told that hides genuine concern for me, but he doesn't demonstrate that well. If you're asking if he's DANGEROUS, then yes, very much so. He can and will kill you if you get in his way. I suppose the best endorsement I can give is that he isn't needlessly cruel. He just also isn't needlessly kind."


Chelsea looked unhappy at the summary, which I didn't begrudge her. In some ways, Chelsea had gotten very lucky in her placement during our childhood, but in others, a bit less so. She was obviously better off with mom, but her eventual let down was a lot worse than mine.


While I had found my mom, who adored me and had been desperate to make her absence up to me, Chelsea had ended up finding dad as her long lost parent. I wasn't sure they'd even spoken more than a few words since my great grandmother's threat had been lifted. I suppose they might have been in touch through calls or something, but I knew my dad well enough to know he wasn't the daily chat type. While I envied my sister her childhood, I did not envy her the disappointment of having my father dropped on her as an adult. He was an acquired taste in the most generous terms.


Derran seemed interested. "That sounds about right. My mother isn't fond of him. She says he's a dead fish, though I suspect being grandfather's favorite has more to do with her dislike. Even after leaving the family, it's well known that Malachai adores Elijah. He considers him running off to join the devils a daring escapade rather than the betrayal that many of his siblings see it as."


"Honestly, I'm not sure how much difference that makes," I admitted. "Malachai seems to foster a fairly cutthroat political attitude among his kids. I've only met a few Aunts and Uncles, and most of them were dad's full siblings, but I got the impression from Uncle Percy that his position as Malachai's favorite is more curse than blessing, not that I think he CARES about that at all. One of the few good things I can say about dad is that he isn't the type to be swayed by popularity."


Derran nodded ruefully. "That might not be a bad read. I've met grandpa a few times, though we aren't close. My mother is actually a member of Seline's branch. Most of Malachai's kids stuck with the one of the family branches, but mom and Percival don't get along and she was motivated to go out on her own."


I could see how that decision wouldn't endear her to Percy, though it also made her dislike of my dad a bit more hypocritical. I didn't SAY that obviously, because I wasn't an idiot. But it was on my mind.


We chatted like that for a while. It was a combination of family bonding and information gathering and we both knew it. I was learning more about Davis in preparation for coming up against him in the last round (and regardless of Void interference that was what Arcadia was) and he was feeling out more info about my dad.


Of course, we weren't really giving each other anything useful. We'd been telling emotional stories with lots of personal context and very little power scaling information. It fit with the narrative of the conversation well enough and denied the other person any real useful dirt.


I DID pick up a few tidbits here and there. My ability to smell truth made it easier to slightly shift the conversation in directions where I could confirm or deny things without coming across as prying. I kept one of my parallels active at all times, keeping an eye out for the Void. I doubted MOST of the Vessels would be willing to start a fight in this cramped environment, but there would be some. More importantly, Callie was a prime target, and Fade and Alanna had strict instructions to guard her closely…which was literally the only thing that saved her.


Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash, then heard a scream. I whirled to find Fade standing in front of my wife, a dagger in his side, and his sword Devlos drawn and arching toward the throat of a very panicked looking B-ranker.


The assassin wasn't one of the big name B-rankers that had been pointed out. Just a mousy brown haired guy a bit younger than me. But I DID recognize him. Or rather, I'd seen him before. Sure enough, the blade lashing at his throat was deflected by an oversized axe that smashed into the ground where Fade had been seconds ago as Shelby pressed an attack to drive back my retainer.


Alanna appeared next to Fade, her eyes glowing with rage as her sword flickered for Shelby's eye, obviously going for a killing blow from the jump, and the axe wielding woman snarled and ducked behind the haft of her weapon to avoid being speared through the brain. The dagger wielder had retreated into a crowd of Kent's retainers who had shown up, and my own teammates had all gathered around us. I was at my wife's side instantly, checking her for injuries, and glaring at Kent across the crowd.


"Hey, fuckface, you better explain yourself," I snapped, my blood boiling with rage. That asshole had tried to MURDER my Callie. I was going to see his skin peeled off and nailed to a door when we got to the top of this glacier.


He sneered at me. "Watch your mouth, boy. Your betters are speaking here. If Roland or Derran has a question for me, I'll happily listen. But I won't be threatened by some-"


"Fuck off!" I snarled. "Explain or fucking die! I have five A-rankers waiting at the top of this lift, and their first mission upon reuniting with me will be mounting your fucking HEAD on a spike if you don't tell me what the hell is going on. That's my WIFE your errand boy just tried to kill you pompous simpering little prick. Not to mention a noted threat to the Void. The only reason someone like you would have to try to kill a D-ranker like that would be if you were in league with them."


He blanched, though whether because of the threat of being butchered by A-rankers or because of the accusation, I couldn't tell. I also didn't have the chance to find out, because before any of us could react, the same dagger that had been driven into Fade emerged from his chest. He blinked, staring down at his chest and then looking back at the B-ranker in confusion. The man was grinning like a maniac. Everyone froze, staring at the obvious killing blow.


I didn't know what was up with that dagger, but given that my sister, Ellie, and every other member of our group with flame or purification related powers were pouring them into the wound on Fade's side, I was guessing some kind of poison. Whatever it was would have immediately killed Callie, and had done the same to Kent, who was sliding bonelessly to the ground as the light faded from his eyes.


He never made it. With a desolate howl of "NO!" Shelby crossed the intervening distance, her axe coming across in a sweeping blow that cleaved the fucking SPACE itself, bisecting the body of her employer and beheading his killer in the same stroke.


That attack was the match that lit the powderkeg. With a roar of gleeful sadism, about a dozen different B-rankers lashed out with suicidal attacks toward their nearest neighbors, doing their best to take someone with them. They were nearly instantly cut down to a man, but several Wyndhams were killed in the ensuing attack.


None of the Wyndhams revealed themselves as Void agents, but I wasn't entirely sure that was because they were all clean. I suspected this whole assault was a cover to help some of the better hidden Vessels get into Arcadia more easily. But I hardly had time to focus on that. I dove forward, wrapping my whole body around my wife, putting as much of my armor between her and harm as possible.


"Shane, stop it!" She screamed as she tried to break free. "You're going to get yourself killed idiot!"


I heard a gurgle of stunned pain from beside me, and turned to see Kara, Darren's retainer, driving a spear into his gut. Roland let out a roar of betrayal and cleaved her head from her shoulders with a flick of his wrist. He produced a scroll, popped it open, and muttered under his breath as he removed the spear.


We all exhaled in relief as Darren's gut wound healed, all except Darren, who was staring in devastated horror at the head of his second in command lying on the ground nearby.


Luckily, the assassins had MOSTLY failed. Several of the Wyndhams had defensive wishes in place, and even their subordinates had been mostly protected. Still, some of the attacks had been vicious and quick enough to claim lives. I saw Shelby on the ground, cradling the top half of Kent in her lap and rocking it as she cried uncontrollably, Darren was nearly catatonic from shock and horror, and even the various survivors had looks of numb terror on their faces. I know I did.


So of course, that moment was when we all felt a lurch as the platform began to slow. We passed out of the cloud bank we'd been sliding through, and the stone shuddered as we came to a stop at the top in front of an absolutely massive gate, upon which stood about twenty of figures in dark robes. A-rankers, waiting for their charges. We looked up at them, they looked back…and then all hell broke loose.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

There was a brief lull before everyone lost it. Not a long one, mind. It seemed like everyone was so shocked they didn't know how to react. On our side we were staring down twenty A-rankers, and on theirs a small massacre had played out among their charges. The first person to react was a particularly large figure on the left side of the parapets of the gate.


Before any of us could move, he was standing at the base of the platform, staring in at us. "What happened to Kent?" he demanded. He was tall and blonde, with a thick beard and a heavy brow. His eyes were grey as granite, and narrowed in outrage.


I stepped in front of Callie, noticing Bethy had joined me in the motion. I smiled at my friend before remembering my face was covered by my mask, but she grinned sunnily back at me anyway, as if she knew. The man, receiving no answer, turned to the sobbing blonde holding Kent's body. "Shelby!" He barked. "Pull yourself together girl. What did you do?"


"D-daddy!" She sobbed. "They stabbed him!" She gestured to the headless B-ranker. "That one went after her!" she pointed at Callie. "And the other one stopped him." She pointed to Fade. "Then Kent tried to talk them down and he turned on us. He killed him so fast I couldn't stop it."


The man's eyes darkened as he surveyed the scene. "The blade severed the spine and struck the heart. And it was poisoned. Death would have been instant."


Shelby clutched the body tighter, crying even harder, and I felt my heart break for her a little. She'd clearly cared about Kent a lot. I tried to imagine that being Callie, or Benny, or my sister, and my blood ran cold. My hands clenched in outrage. I was so ANGRY. I had nowhere to vent it. One second I'd been snapping at Kent that I'd have him killed, and the next he'd been dead. Something Shelby seemed to remember as I did. "He threatened Kent!" She said, her eyes narrowing as she pointed at me. "Said he'd have him killed!"


The man's gaze turned to me, and I felt a crushing force from his attention. I had zero hope of offering any resistance to an A-ranker. I triggered Leviathan though, and the tide of mental pressure dissolved as it hit me. Barely. It was draining me fast, and he wasn't even actually DOING anything.


"You threatened him?" He said quietly. "D-" He seemed to be about to attack, but before he finished the word, another figure appeared in front of him, and he vanished.


My mother pushed her hood back, glaring at the person sized hole in the wall over where the others were waiting. It had shaken on impact, but not too much. "I KNOW you weren't about to threaten my son, Caius."


Another man spoke up from the wall. "Are we something you take so lightly, Star Queen? An heir of a major branch has died. Kent was one of Desmond's youngest children. His sister and nephew are both Branch Heads in their own right. Do you think your brat is going to be the side anyone picks over that?"


"I think there's no proof my Shane had anything to do with that little twit being snuffed out," my mother hissed, eyes literally alight with rage. White flames flickered on her irises and ignited on her fists. "The girl the assassin went for first is his WIFE, you lackwit. Caius is just embarrassed he didn't manage to properly vet his brat's retinue. My boy isn't his punching bag, if he wants to work out his frustration he can do it on someone else."


Between one blink and the next, another figure appeared beside her. A familiar red skinned version of my (albeit shorter) with black hair and horns. My dad stared up at the wall threateningly, fingers folded over the head of his cane. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. Everyone here knew who he was and what he could do.


There was a grinding of stone as Caius climbed out of the gate, his face murderous…right up until he saw my dad. At which case it went from enraged to terrified.


"Gods dad, what did you do to these people?" I muttered under my breath. Callie snorted out a quit laugh, quickly covering her mouth, not that I was delusional enough to assume anyone here had missed it.


Sebastian appeared next, in front of my parents rather than beside them. "This is pointless," he said forcefully. "The girl is barely coherent. We need a more stable source of information."


My mom nodded. "Ellisara," she barked. "Report."


Ellie appeared ahead of us. I actually SAW her move, albeit barely. The A-rankers were so fast they might as well be teleporting. Without a ship to watch them through or anything to slow this down, I couldn't perceive what was going on aside from the talking. Ellie dropped to a knee in front of my mother. "I'm here, master. The little lord didn't do anything wrong. He was demanding answers from the dead one when his underling literally stabbed him in the back. He was protecting her for the rest of the very short fight. Putting himself between her and harm."


"Of course he was," she said with a proud smile. "That's my boy." Her face hardened again as she turned to look up at the man on the gate, whose face I couldn't see from here. "And don't think that'll be ignored either. Someone tried to murder my daughter in law. I'm quite fond of that girl, and my MOTHER likes her even more. Or did you not realize your nobody traitor tried to assassinate Drowning Shade's personal apprentice."


The figure flinched. "I think we're getting off track," he said lamely after a slight delay. "This was clearly an attempt at infiltration by the Void. We should hurry to the other gates to survey the extent of the damage. It's doubtful this was the only attack." Then he vanished.


I was surprised. There was a strict non-interference policy on the succession war. A threat of an outside attack normally wouldn't produce much worry. This was hardly a normal competition though. The Void had broken neutrality over their knee and chucked it in a swimming pool, and no one knew what the rules were. Plus grandma was right above us, and while the S-rankers couldn't make landfall because of their Impact and the fire cage, in order to LEAVE they had to go past her. It wouldn't be out of character for her to claim Void influence and kill someone who had attacked her apprentice. Grandma was kind and compassionate with me and my friends, but she WAS her mother's daughter.


Which was another issue for them. Black Sorrow was fanatically devoted to her only child. On the off chance someone had either stopped or harmed my grandmother (unlikely with my Demigod grandfather nearby), they'd be dealing with both my great grandparents and two entire factions.


Unlike the old man, Black Sorrow and the Red Revenant didn't even pretend at neutrality. If someone picked a fight with their baby girl they'd go on a rampage.


This was, of course, why neutrality was normally enforced on this event. Because the convoluted web of relatives and support made it almost impossible to make a move if it wasn't. With the spirit of that breached by the Void, this whole thing had become a lot more complicated. For everyone else. I was actually pretty fine with the whole thing.


Grabbing Callie's hand, I gestured for Bethy and the others to follow, including Darren, Roland, and Delia. Then I approached my parents. "Mom, dad," I told them wryly. "I had a terrible time at camp."


Another familiar form snorted in laughter as it materialized beside us. Killian, the fifth member of my A-rank entourage and an old friend of my parents, grinned at me. "He really is just like his dad. I swear, it's like looking in a mirror. Well, a funhouse mirror, since he's so much taller than you were. I never realized you were so short."


"I am NOT short," my dad snapped waspishly. "I am of perfectly normal size. The universal average is five foot ten. Discounting the fairyland. But they don't count because the fae are all over the place.


"Shorter than me," Zeke said with a grin as he leaned past Killian to shoot me a lazy wave. "Took you long enough, kid. Your mom was going out of her mind with worry. When we heard about the Void attacks we had to physically restrain her from going down into the lower zones to help. But the fire cage sections off Impact. It would have caused problems for her to enter anything below Arcadia."


I hadn't realized she was that worried. I'd known she was unhappy with things, but she'd played it off as just casual concern. "We're fine," I assured them. "Assuming we're not about to get murdered over shitty family politics."


"You are not," Sebastian said in a tone like cast iron. Dark and heavy and a little brittle, it was clear that he was much angrier than he looked, and wanted an excuse to do a little violence himself. I glanced at Bethy, who was looking at him in concern, and realized why. Bethy had been through a lot since we got here. I might not be able to see the signs of her various upsets, but that didn't mean he couldn't.


My mom nodded. "He's right, sweetie. No one with any real power came besides us and Caius. I was expecting Davis, but he's been steering clear of Eli. I imagine he'll be along shortly. The rest have scattered."


Looking past her, I realized she was right. All fifteen of the other figures had vanished without a word or sign. I was DEEPLY uncomfortable with exactly how casually they were all making us look like nonentities. Fucking A-rankers. Although speaking of ranks. I was coming up on a new one myself. I wasn't sure I was there yet, but I suspected I'd hit C-rank in Arcadia, given how long this test was looking like it was taking.


We also didn't have a new trial yet. I turned to my parents. "What's the deal with the competition? We've been getting drip fed information through the announcements and don't know much. I assume you guys have been in touch with the grandparents?"


"We have," my mom assured me. "The situation is…complicated. We're all kind of flying blind. There's an implication among everyone that there's got to be a traitor, and one high up in the WCP. It has to be either an elder or someone down here in one of the cities. Possibly both. Which is making things complicated."


My dad sighed. "Everyone is questioning everyone else's motives. Which means people are backpedaling on legitimately intelligent responses because idiots are implying their treachery almost as often as the idiots are proposing terrible responses and sticking to their guns. We've managed a sort of equilibrium, but it's basically just a city wide detente for the duration of this last test as we try to ferret out the Void infiltrators."


That was disappointing but not shocking. I sighed, shaking my head. "Yeah, I assumed. There must be some way to increase points though. Right?"


My uncle grinned. "Oh there is," he said gleefully. "In fact, we think you're going to be pretty excited about it. They've put a bounty on Void infiltrators. It was one of the FEW useful moves our supporters managed to bully the council into making. Which means we can genuinely get some work done here. Hope you're all ready to get started after a short rest. We've got a big advantage given your connection to the Void, Callie. Once you're all settled in, it'll be time to start hunting." Given her excited grin, my wife was just as excited about that idea as Zeke was. And she said I was the impulsive one in our marriage.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

When we reached the house my parents had been staying at, I admit I froze. "I…was expecting something bigger." We were standing in a small grass yard between two huge buildings. Packed into the intervening space was a small cottage, thatched roof and all. It was a warm brown color, with a blue painted door sporting a shiny brass knob. The windows had matching blue shutters thrown wide to reveal gauzy yellow curtains, and the path up to the door was brown cobblestone.


My mother beamed excitedly. "Isn't it lovely! Your father wanted to stay in a big drafty castle, but I wasn't having any of that. I get quite enough of castles back home. I went looking for lodgings and found this darling little cottage for us to sleep in!" The others had already split off to stay at the two neighboring boarding houses, but Chelsea and I had been press ganged into staying with my parents for family bonding time.


I turned to look at my dad, whose face looked like it was carved from stone. I might have assumed he was unaffected, if his shoulders weren't slightly hunched. I snickered at his obvious exasperation and he glared at me. I turned to look at my mom. "Hey mom, dad doesn't seem very happy to see me, was he not as worried as you were? I mean I just assumed he would be super anxious about all the trouble, but if it didn't bother him that's fine too."


He turned to shoot me a betrayed look, his jaw dropping in horror as she pinned him with a gimlet stare. "Now honey, I'm sure that's not the case. Your father loves you, of course he was worried for your safety. Would it kill you to show your son a little affection Eli? We're not on the run anymore. Now that we're a family again I won't have you treating him like a stranger."


My lips peeled back in a sadistic grin. This was MUCH better than punching him in the throat. I knew my mom was my dad's biggest weakness, but I hadn't realized how easily she could push him around.


Granted, I was also aware that this whole dynamic was probably him expressing guilt over how my life had gone, and she was playing along because she thought I deserved a little payback. Oddly though, that made me feel even warmer. They knew me well enough to know I was still upset and were letting me work it out my own way.


Chelsea giggled at his expression. "I didn't even get a hello. Honestly, it's like you both forget you have two children."


My mother snorted. "You were twins, dear. Trust me. No one forgets giving birth to twins. Your brother has simply been deprived of affection for most of his life. I'm not asking for miracles, but I'd like to see Eli put in a bit of effort at least." Her eyes softened as they landed on me. "And it would mean a lot if you could meet him halfway, Shane. I know that isn't my right to ask, given the way things went, but…now that we have the chance, I really hope we can try to be a real family."


That took the wind out of my sails, as far as tormenting my old man went. She sounded so sincere and pleading. I felt like an asshole for reducing my own mother to begging me to be nice to my family.


"I can try," I allowed. "I can't just wave a magic wand and say everything is fine. But I get why he did the things he did, and it turned out ok for the most part. I won't swear to not to give him a hard time when I can, but I'll make an effort at least. If he'll do the same."


I looked him in the eye as I said that last part, and he sighed. "I…suppose I can do that. I can't promise to do it WELL, however." He grimaced. "I'm not a KID person. Never have been. I find children frustrating, and you were a special kind of frustration because you reminded me of myself in some ways."


"YOU raised me," I scowled. "Or helped from a distance at least. I guess Zeke did most of it. Though he led me to believe I reminded you of mom more than yourself, he said that was why you left me on Callus."


He smiled wanly. "Like I said. In some ways. I don't mean to say I'm not proud of you. The things you've accomplished are nothing short of miraculous. But I've always been a selfish man. I take care of myself first. Sasha was the exception to that rule, and I suspect you know a little something about that. You and your wife seem to be close as well. But anyone else…I just didn't have it in me."


"Don't make excuses," snapped my mother. "You were never a proper child. Ezekiel's family treated you like an honored guest, and when you finally met your father he manipulated and controlled you as best he could manage. The only positive feedback you got from Malachai was when you outsmarted him, and that's not the kind of relationship I want you to have with our son."


Putting up both hands, he just sighed. "I didn't say it would be. And I'm not making excuses, just setting expectations. I'm not going to suddenly be the dad who takes him to ball games and plays catch at the park. That isn't me. It wasn't me when I was his age and it won't be me from this side of the equation. I'm not here to parent him. He doesn't need it. But that doesn't mean I can't get to know the boy. We're both adults, and just because I'm not going to wipe his nose for him doesn't mean we can't interact."


She just rolled her eyes. "Oh for the love of the gods." She turned to me with an exasperated snort. "He's SAYING that he's afraid he won't be a good father, so he'd rather try to be your friend."


"I was NOT saying that," he said in an appalled tone. "I would never say anything like that. It's…cloying."


Her eyes hardened. "I hear you deride me for showing affection to your son again, and I might decide all the affection I show YOU is cloying. You can maintain your ominous and intimidating image sleeping on a pile of fertilizer bags in the back shed."


"That's not what I meant," he groaned. "Damn it woman, this is hard enough without you putting words in my mouth!"


"Mom," I said gently, taking off my mask. "I think maybe this is making it harder for him." She looked hurt, but I offered her a warm smile. "You said you wanted me to try, and I want to do that. But I think he needs to process things with me in his own way. I know you want to just make things ok, and you probably COULD bully him into acting like it, but I think in the long rain that'll do more harm than good."


She wilted slightly. "I just…I want us to be a FAMILY," she pleaded. "It's not that hard!"


"No," I agreed. "But it's not that easy either. We'll get there. I know we will. Just…let us go at our own pace. That was my fault, honestly. I didn't realize it would upset you so much when I teased him like that. I don't actually need you to fight my battles here. I love you, and I know you feel guilty. But like I said, I'm past the anger mostly. I get you want to fix things between us all, but some things just need time."


Biting her lip, she nodded slowly. "Alright. Fine. I'll stay out of it. But can we have dinner together? The four of us? Actually, make that five. I want to spend some more time with my daughter in law."


"I'm sure she'd love that," I beamed at her. "And even better, I'll cook for us. I've been told I'm a decent hand in the kitchen, and my skills have only grown."


Chelsea nodded eagerly. "He's got a gift," she admitted. "He's going to make Callie an amazing house husband someday." She grinned at me teasingly, sticking out her tongue at me, and I raised an eyebrow in challenge.


"I'm sorry, how is YOUR love life going?" I said with a malicious grin. "You expressed your feelings to EITHER of the people you're interested in?"


She squeaked, her face going red as she glanced anxiously at our parents. "Shane what the hell? How did you even know about that? I mean…what do you mean? I mean…shut the hell up!"


My mom actually giggled at that. "Listen to the two of you, acting like real siblings. I love how close you've gotten."


"This family is the worst," sulked my sister, actually pouting about her secret being exposed. She hadn't actually told me about it, I'd just kind of guessed, so I hadn't been under any obligation to keep it secret. It was my turn to stick my tongue out at her.


I sent a quick mental message to my wife, who appeared pretty quickly after as mom led us inside to give us a tour. She hadn't been far, and was planning to stay with me, of course, she just wanted to give me time to reconnect with my family. And I appreciated it, but honestly…I felt awkward around them.


After years with my friends and allies, being around these people that expected me to be someone that I wasn't sure I'd ever been was awkward. Like yes, there'd always been expectations from mom, but only for the short time I'd actually seen her.


Weirdly my dad seemed to have the least expectations, if only because the self absorbed bastard was too focused on what he should be feeling to even worry about me. I was a little grateful though. What I'd said to my mom was true, I did think we'd get there eventually, but I hadn't had the heart to tell her that her trying to force us to mend fences made me feel like a damned zoo animal on exhibit.


Callie appeared next to me without any hesitation, lacing her fingers in mine and shooting me that lodestar of a smile. No matter how lost I got, that always showed me which way was north. One smile from my wife would set me back on the right path, and I'd never been more grateful.


We headed inside, and I explored the kitchen, snagging some easy ingredients as the others gathered at the table in the kitchen on the other side of the counter. "So," I said as I started preparing the roux I was going to use to make the Jambalaya tonight. "Zeke said there are bounties?" This was one of my favorite recipes. Jambalaya was supposed to be tomato based, but this one cooked much faster because the roux got VERY hot (the trick was using an oil with a high smoke point, like grapeseed oil).

My dad nodded as I started chopping up the onions, celery, and bell peppers. "There's been some success identifying some of the abstract information on targets. Due to the secrets moratorium, outright FINDING them is problematic, but getting some information to use as a base for a bounty list is much more manageable."


I grimaced. I knew perfectly well how annoying that could be. But with a bounty list…I hummed to myself as I started to prepare the chicken thighs. Dantalion could help me ferret out many different things. Maybe not A-rankers, but C-rankers if I used my staff. Hell if I ranked up B-rankers would be viable if I spent some time working on it. Beyond that though, I had another advantage. I had Zeke. I was in a good mood as I returned to cooking. I had a feeling I'd do just fine in this round.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I stared down into the very large hole with trepidation. "Look," I said slowly. "I feel like no one will take this seriously, and it might not even matter since we have to go down there. But I feel like it needs to be said. Literally NOTHING good has ever happened to any of us in a hole in the ground."


Callie rolled her eyes. "Let's be honest. Bad things have happened to us in almost every imaginable biome. I think pretty much the only ones we're missing are the ocean and the desert." Then she paused. "Except after we came out of that underwater city in the dungeon, which I guess was technically both?"


I snorted at that, looking around at all my friends. "Guess I can't argue that. We have everyone here?"


"We left some of the D-rankers to guard the houses," Callie said with a grimace. "Well, not really, there's nothing they can do if someone attacks, but they're being punished. Bethy hired a bunch of them to follow her around and serenade her with a theme song they made up on the spot. She liked it so much she decided to hire them to do it to the rest of us too. Sadly, we couldn't punish Bethy for it because it's not on the list."


I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Of course she did. It's fine, we don't need most of the D-rankers anyway. The higher ranked members of the group will have a hard enough time keeping everyone safe. Are we sure splitting into groups like this is a good choice?"


She sighed. "I mean…no. But we have to maximize our odds of finding Void infiltrators. Based on what I know about the Void ladder, they'll be setting up relays along the staircase. Considering the pressure gets heavier the deeper they go, as long as our people don't go too deep they should be fine, especially with a few C-rankers on each group to protect them."


"Fair enough," I said grimly. "My people need to get out on their own and fight, otherwise they can't build their rep and get stronger. Keeping everyone locked up in Bethy's Domain all the time isn't a viable long term solution. Groups of twenty five should do it. Obviously, we're going deepest, so my parents and Zeke should come with us. Sebastian and Killian can each head up a group of our second liners. Fade's people, some of the leftover C-rankers, what have you. Does everyone have the orbs we made?"


With Callie coming along with me, I knew at some point we'd run into problems supplying heretic fire to the rest of our group when we were separated. So last night after our family dinner I'd settled in to spend hours making more of the heretic fire spheres we'd sold. They wouldn't last forever, but if any of our people hit the Void spawn, those should be enough to handle the problem.


It was a unique advantage we had. Most people didn't have an easy way to destroy Void creatures. They were nasty and hard to kill. Most of my cousins would be concentrating their forces into large groups and trying to dive deep to maximize their point gain from the bounties of the stronger Void creatures. Spreading out like we were wasn't a viable strategy for anyone else. Which was the only reason I was agreeing to it, despite my reservations about leaving the people I was responsible for unprotected.


I glanced back down into the hole. "So…this thing leads all the way through the planet? I wonder what happens if you fall in. Do you get stuck in the middle?"


"Eventually," Zeke said as he stepped up next to me. "You kind of ping pong around in the center until you reach equilibrium between the two gravities and then stop in the middle once the momentum runs out. We've seen stuff like this before, though the heirworld's is bigger than most. It's also…unique. The staircase has floors that descend surrounding it. Every few hundred feet or so there's a new level with some other new bit of nonsense. The one in the center is kind of a mess."


That made me frown. "Why are there floors like that? It's just a hole in the ground. Why dig out levels along the staircase."


"No one knows," he shrugged. "The staircase wasn't created by the WCP. It was here when we took control of the heirworld. So were the levels. We suspect it might be a resource thing, like they were digging for ore and stuff on the way down. But no one can say for sure. The levels get pretty wide. They run under basically the whole city."


Mom grinned. "They're ALSO full of treasure. Kind of. They're unstable spatially and move around pretty much all the time. Hallways changing places every few days and things like that. So the various items lost by explorers tend to pop up. It's why this city isn't ALL A-rankers. The levels closer to the surface have pretty low pressure, and the things lost there are fairly worthless. They send D,C, and B-rankers to explore for them at various depths to dig out treasure."


"It's one of the WCPs major revenue streams," my dad added. "The heirworld has been producing artifacts for millennia. No one is sure how much is down there, or how big the floors are. Since they move around constantly they're impossible to map."


Callie looked upset. "That's bad," she said bluntly. "If they get any of the receivers down there and they get shunted away into some random part of one of the levels…not to mention the spatial instability down there will make it much easier to construct the Void ladder. What about the central level, you said it was a mess? What did you mean by that?"


"Most of the levels change places every few days," Zeke clarified. "But the central level does it every few MINUTES. It's constantly in flux. Not just sideways either. Up is down, left is right, it's a deeply unsettling place."


My mom rolled her eyes. "What Ezekiel means is that he's HEARD it's a deeply unsettling place. None of us were strong enough to get that deep when we came here last. It's impossible to reach that depth without at LEAST a Chronicle. The reasons for the slowly growing pressure closer to the core haven't been fully explored, but the Impact steadily builds as you descend. By the time you reach the center, it's much too heavy for even a normal C-ranker to bear. And we weren't nearly as powerful during the last succession war."


"Alright," I said, processing it all. "So the bounties are organized by…what? Floor? How does that work with the shifting?"


"No one sticks around for that in person," said my dad. "The spatial warping is extremely dangerous. When it starts, anyone inside flees to the staircase. The stairs themselves are made of…well, we aren't really sure. Something that anchors space." He glanced at Callie. "I assume that wouldn't completely spoil the attempts at the Void ladder?"


"If anything, the opposite," she grimaced. "Ladders need to be set on stable ground to be climbed. A cylinder of stable space through the center of the planet would be an ideal foundation to use for the construction."


I just sighed. "Fine. What's our target today then? I assume with A-rankers working on information gathering we know at least enough to pick out someone worth some real points."


"A B-rank vessel named Faustryche," my mother said cheerfully. "When the purge of the planet started, several A and B-rankers already in the city fled to the stairs. It's not a great environment for fighting, so the locals "conveniently" decided to leave them for us. As a fun obstacle in the succession war. Wasn't that nice of them?" Her tone made it clear she was being deeply sarcastic, but my dad just shrugged.


"Not their monkeys, not their circus," he said blithely. "Or at least that's what they think. It's shortsighted, but I imagine the A-rankers think they can flee when things get bad. It's easy to decide something isn't your problem when other people are around to be made to deal with it."


I chuckled. "Yeah, shocking how bad most Ascendants are at long term thinking."


"Not really," Zeke countered as we began to divide up into groups. "Stories tend to change with the telling, warping over time to become something completely different. In order to survive as an Ascendant, you need to focus on the present. I told you this years ago, kid. You'll never make it if you don't live in the now."


He had. It shocked me sometimes how casual conversations with Zeke could have so many layers. The things he said or didn't say were often important later on down the line in ways I'd never expected. It clashed with the image of the sloppy drunk I'd grown up with, but then, a lot of his Ascendant persona did. Janus was a scary, competent, devious man. I suppose it shouldn't be shocking he could put on such a good front. His entire path was based on masks and deception.


In a way though, that made him the most dependable person I could think of. Zeke could have left when I was a kid, I was convinced. Thinking about it now, he could have come up with some way to slip the contract. He was the craftiest person I knew, and I'd seen him kill A-rankers at B-rank.


The fact that he stayed was one of the reasons I knew I could trust him. And really…Zeke was the first person I'd ever trusted. He'd shown me what stability meant, gave me the sense of structure I'd needed to build the friendships I had today. Even with my parents back, Zeke was still one of the most important people in the world to me. I needed to make sure that once I became the Wishmaster, he was rewarded for everything he'd done. And I knew just how to do it. In fact, I didn't even need the WCP.


"Hey Zeke," I said as we descended the stairs in a group of twenty five. "I was thinking. What do you think about Stella apprenticing with my grandmother?"


My mom blinked. "Stacy?" It still confused the hell out of me that Stella's name was a hero name and not her actual name. I knew it meant star, but the whole thing was deeply counterintuitive. "That's a good idea. Mom does a lot with stars. I bet she could teach her plenty, and her Cosmic Witchcraft has a lot of potential. Witches can be pretty scary with the right tools."


My uncle looked a little bushwhacked. "I mean…that would be great, but Celia is an S-ranker, and the daughter of two gods. I'm sure she has better things to do."


"No way," Chelsea chirped happily. "She would love to help out a member of the family. And it would be nice having you two around. Shane got to spend his whole childhood with you, but I never got any uncle time. You owe me like…twenty years of birthday presents." She winked at him, and I saw him grin back at the audacity.


"I think I can manage something," he said with a laugh. I couldn't hold back my own grin. I hadn't really considered that Chelsea might want to have a relationship with Zeke like I had, but I definitely approved. My uncle was one of the best people I knew, and my sister deserved to have someone like him in her life. I felt like it was fitting, too, that they connect when we were all doing this family thing.


Callie smiled warmly at me, reaching over to thread her fingers in mine, giving my hand a tight squeeze. Callie loved holding hands. She had ever since we got together, and I had to admit after years of it, I felt just as warm and protected as she did when her fingers laced into my own. And so, my wife and I held hands and chatted with my parents as we all marched cheerfully down to hell.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Reaching the tenth level wasn't too tough. I wanted to go deeper, honestly, but Faustryche had been recently seen down here and we had a day or two before the next shift. In fact, we couldn't have gone lower as a group anyway. The majority of our people didn't have a Chronicle, even among the top percentage of our combatants, and hence they couldn't stand the pressure too many levels down.


Even ten levels below the surface (and the staircase DID start at the surface, with the whole of Arcadia built in a sort of bowl set into the glacier which the stairway was at the bottom of), things were starting to get a little heavy, and I could see my friends starting to strain a bit.


Not Bethy, mind, who I was almost positive already had a Chronicle anyway, or Abel, but some of the lower end power additions like Benny and Jessie. But when we arrived, I was quickly shown that things weren't going to be that easy. Much like the other Vessels, Faustryche had supplied a large amount of what Callie called 'Void spawn'.


These particular spawn weren't mantis shaped like the ones in the forest. They looked…like devils, kind of. Short pudgy things with obsidian skin and little wings and tiny horns. Oddly enough though, most of them were D-rankers.


Ellie stepped forward, hefting her mace, but my mom held up a hand. "No," she said simply. "This isn't just bounty hunting. It's training. Shane. You and your friends'll take care of these." I shrugged, stepping up to call for my staff. It landed in my hands with a reassuring thump, but before I could activate a form, my mom continued sharply. "With no abilities."


I froze, turning to raise an eyebrow at her. The imp things were gathering at the edge of the pool of light from the staircase. The tenth level was a massive cavernous hall made of dark stone, filled with tall columns and cloaked in complete shadow. I only even knew they were Void spawn because of the eerie blue glow of the eyes. It was a very distinctive glow. "I assume you want all of us to do the same?" She nodded, and I sighed. "Any reason why?"


"You're too clever," she said bluntly. "I know you have tricks to handle any occasion, and that's good. Preparation is always a smart move. But at some point, you'll fight something tricks don't work on. You need enough strength of arms to hold your own when you're on even ground."


Despite her hard tone, I could see the worry on her face. She had clearly been more shaken by being stuck here while we dealt with the void than expected. I could understand that. I just sighed, then turned to call out for a familiar face. "Bella!" I shouted for my apprentice. "Front and center."


My apprentice's red hair had grown out since I'd seen her last. It was staggering to think she'd been essentially locked up in Bethy's Domain since we arrived on this planet. I felt a little bad, because I was supposed to be teaching her, but it was just so damned dangerous.


"Aye aye, master!" She shouted energetically as she snapped off a crisp salute. "What do you need?"


I nodded to the imps. "I need a sparring partner. Assuming my wife doesn't mind me checking on your progress?" I cocked my head at Callie, who rolled her eyes but still shook her head. Grinning, I turned back to my disciple. "Then head out. It's time for me to see the results of your training. Go on, I'll be right behind you."


She looked a bit nervous, but she moved forward. Benny, Jessie, Daysia, Dayna, and all the others spread out with him. By seeming unspoken agreement, we sent the weaker combatants out first. Well, weaker in melee. Dayna was a Heaven Murder Elf, and was dangerous in any kind of battle, but she preferred a bow.


While my mom clearly wanted us to take care of this personally to see my progress, I had my own concerns. To her credit she didn't complain about it, just raised an eyebrow and watched. After all, like I'd told Bella, I was right behind her.


It was…kind of amazing, really. To see her whirl her staff into action, striking out with different forms. Mephistopheles to destroy, Mornax to defend. Seeing the results of my training, of her obviously constant practice, brought a swell of pride to my chest. She spun and stomped and cleaved through the imps with brutal efficiency, bringing the goetia staff art to bear at what I was pretty sure was a high Expert level.


Of course, she needed some help. Once she killed a few, the imps swarmed, rushing her in a screeching wave of hate and stubby claws. My own staff spun out to meet them, flickering between her strikes and around her spinning form, slipping through minute gaps in her attacks as I threaded the needle with expert precision.


More than my enhanced stats, I was just much more experienced in the staff. Especially THIS staff. The art was my creation, and I could read it like a map. It almost felt like I was using Belial, honestly, like I was conducting a symphony of spilt blood and shattered skulls using my apprentice as my instrument.


Bella moved like a precision machine for about twenty minutes…but eventually she started to flag. I stepped past her, hooking my staff in front of her and pushing her back gently, with Callie stepping up to escort her away. "You did good, kid," I called to her as she retreated. "Now watch close. This is what you're aiming for." And then I lost myself in the flow of battle.


I wasn't a conductor anymore, I was a dancer, and my weapon was a part of my body. Imps shattered and broke against me like the tide crashing against the rocks. Some of them got through, scraping my neck or wrists or just raking my skin between gaps in my armor. But it didn't matter. Even without Mornax active, my Impact was higher than a normal D-ranker. They didn't have the power to deal real damage.


I heard myself laugh as if from far away, releasing all the pent up stress and aggression that I usually held in. No plans, no tricks, just violence. Pure, simple, uncomplicated force, brought to bear as I enacted my will on the world around me. The music was over. I wasn't dancing anymore, I was exterminating. Smashing insects in droves as I cackled my glee into the overwhelming darkness.


Until, suddenly, I wasn't. I froze, my breath was coming heavy, blood dripping through the crevices in my plate, and my muscles were burning. The heavier Impact, combined with the raw speed and ferocity of my movements had pushed my body to a level I hadn't felt recently aside from that fight with Fade's champion.


"You doin ok, love?" my wife asked in amusement from off to the side. I glanced down to find the ground torn up by my footwork, and the bodies of the imps all gone, cleansed by a rolling carpet of blue black flame.


"Thanks for the tidy," I told her with a laugh as I leaned on my staff for support. "Got a little carried away there, I think. But it was nothing too serious. I was still processing everything, just got a little tunnel vision." I knew Callie would wake me from that trance through the bond if needed, and it felt good to cut loose.


Bella appeared next to me, bouncing and clapping excitedly. "Holy SHIT master, that was AMAZING! I could barely SEE you move. Your staff was crushing them so fast it looked like one continuous motion! Do you think I'll be able to do that someday?"


"I think you could do that NOW with some work," I laughed. "I wasn't using any abilities, just the staff stances. That was pure physical combat. My stats are higher, granted, but still, no reason you couldn't do the same thing." I made sure my tone was supportive and reassuring. While tough love for the apprentice WAS good, it wasn't the only kind of reinforcement. Sometimes a positive comment could be helpful too. Bella had done well with her demo.


My comment was still ringing in the air when a blur flashed in front of my face, only to be deflected by a familiar steel sword. I nodded cheerfully to my strongest B-ranker. "Hey, thank Fade. That would have been awkward. Nothing like having your head explode to ruin a pleasant conversation."


He snorted. "Your parents wouldn't have allowed that. The only reason I was even able to deflect it was because they're treating this like a training trip. I got a tap on the shoulder from your uncle as a warning when he noticed it coming."


Despite his comments being for me, he didn't take his eyes off the enemy in front of him as Faustryche appeared before us. The man was tall. Like…unnaturally tall. Eight feet maybe. His limbs were long and spindly, and his fingers were spidery tendrils coming off too small palms. His eyes glowed that Void blue, and his mouth was full of too sharp teeth so thickly packed in that when he spoke, it was muffled. "Heretic," he slurred, eyes flicking to the still burning flame that had consumed the imps. "Surrender your life."


"Void lackey," I said in a deep voice to mimic his. "Invest in dental care." I heard a snort from behind me and turned to grin at my wife as I stepped back, letting Fade take his position opposite the vessel. Just to be safe though, I withdrew a sphere of heretic fire and tossed it to him. "Here, just in case."


He snatched it from behind him without looking, slipping it under his cloak. "Thanks, but I don't think I'm going to need it. Honestly, I don't want to risk taking the fun out of this fight." He grinned, his form flickering as he appeared in front of the vessel.


The motion was…odd. Unlike anything I'd seen him do up to now. He was moving strangely, like he had drawn himself from a scabbard and swung himself at his enemy. Every move Fade made was always in tune with his path, everything about him was reminiscent of a blade. But despite always having something of the sword about him, this was different.


While most of his movements were swordlike, this was the first time I'd seen him…DRAWN. Like he hadn't ever bared his edge before. His body twisted, aligning every muscle and hair along a razor sharp boundary as he attacked. His blade flickered, attacks sweeping in from all sides so fast they looked like they were occupying the same space.


And then…he was done. The drawn sword was sheathed, and Fade was turning away from Faustryche. Who proceeded to literally fall apart like a jigsaw puzzle.


I raised an eyebrow, staring down at the remains of the vessel with a low whistle. "Damn. Rest in pieces, I guess." I turned to my mother, and even she looked vaguely impressed. "So…you have any more bounties for us? Also, do we have to bring back a piece of him or something?"


She snorted, turning to glare at my dad. "He gets this from you, you know. Always needs to be dramatic and get the last word in."


"Of course," he said dryly. "It's all my fault dear, sorry dear."


He couldn't have sounded less sincere if he'd made air quotes, but she just rolled her eyes with a smile before turning back to me. "We have ten more bounties on this level. You're making good time, we might even be able to get to all of them. Well done with your little display earlier. I think next we'll find you a C-ranker to fight." My face went pale, but she didn't notice, turning to stroll off into the depths of the level. Maybe we should have taken our time.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Over the next eight or nine hours, we caught three more B-rank Void infiltrators. Not all of them were Vessels, sadly. In fact, only the first one, Faustryche, had been a vessel. Personally, I didn't think it was so bad, we'd still taken down some Void worshippers, and even if they didn't happen to be big bosses, they were still powerful assets we were denying the other side. Not to mention they still had bounties, which meant we'd still get points.


My parents though, looked deeply unsettled. "Something is wrong," my mom commented as we finished off the third. "There were supposed to be a few different bounties down here, and these were the least consequential."


"It's been bothering me for a while," my dad agreed. "This isn't how the Void operates. They hate us, but they also mostly hate each other. Void Children aren't insane so much as UNsane, but they're certainly too alien to operate in a coherent formation. Even to each other. The way this whole thing has been going, it's like someone is moving pieces on a board. Which they shouldn't be capable of."


I frowned at him. "Really? It's seemed a little…haphazard, don't you think? I mean yeah, they have a shared goal, but they're not working TOGETHER. They're just kind of aimed in the same direction."


"That's more than they should be capable of," he said flatly. "This is off. Working towards a coherent goal like this is…complicated. I could maybe see enough of them agreeing to throw their people scattershot at the planet, but planning the infiltration on the lifts? The attack on Calliope? It smacks of purpose. Of overarching goal. That shouldn't be possible. There is no HEIRARCHY among the Void Children, not beyond the inherent hierarchy of power."


I froze. His voice prickled something in the back of my head. "What if there was," I said slowly. "Or at least, what if there could be." I told him about the Vessel I'd run into who had tried to recruit me. I hadn't really thought about it since it happened, but in retrospect, it seemed odd.


"That's…bad," Zeke cut in. "Like, scale of one to ten, thats fifteen points of total fucking disaster. Void Children cooperating is cataclysmic."


My mom nodded. "It is. There's no way a truce like that will hold. Once we've destroyed the ones inhabiting the nearest areas to realspace, the others will expand to fill the gaps." I cocked my head, and she explained. "The Void is complicated. But as best we can tell, the rank of a Void Child is related to the space they take up in the Void. The more Void they control, the stronger they get."


"So if we worked with them, they'd help us kill the others, and then use the space to get stronger?" I said in horror.


"Worse," Callie cut in with a grimace. "Once they expanded, they would be adjacent to realspace. So the ambivalence that allowed for the truce would no longer be viable. They'd be driven just as insane by the neighboring noise."


My dad shook his head. "That's not the worst of it. The worst is that the power blocs formed by these…what was it he called them? Deepchildren? Will influence the rest of the Void spawn. The Void is fractured because they're constantly clashing. No one force can gather enough power to centralize. But if the Deepchildren manage to form a large enough power base, they can pressure the others. Conquer or destroy them. It'll snowball into a cohesive and unified Void."


Callie looked pale. "I think…I think that's happened before. Sometime a long long time ago. There was a god. A Void god. But it died." She grimaced, clutching her head. "This isn't…ow, ow, ow, fuck!" She collapsed, and I was there next to her, panicking.


"Cal?" I said anxiously, shaking her. "Honey, what's wrong? What hurts?" I shifted to Zagan, flooding her with cleansing life giving flame, but it didn't help. I turned to my mother. "Mom, help! Use your purifying flame!"


She knelt down beside my wife, putting a hand on her head and flooding her with white flame. It didn't hurt her, of course, but it also didn't help. Maybe because Callie had some of the purifying flame in her heretic fire. I snarled, laying her down on the ground as I fumbled for a scroll. Her hand snapped up to grab my wrist. "No!" She hissed. "It's not…it's not the Void!" I frowned, not understanding what she meant. "It's my trait. The Heretic Fire is trying to commune with me."


I blinked at her dumbly. "I don't understand," I said in frustration. "But if it's that, I can help." I reached into the bond, where the trait was connected, and pulled it toward me, trying to offload some of the pain or pressure or…whatever, to myself.


It didn't work, exactly, but it did help a little. Her face eased. I pulled her up, leaning her head in my lap. "Don't scare me like that, damn it," I said tightly. "What the hell is going on?"


She grimaced. "It's not over yet. I can feel it trying. My trait wants me to know something, but the Void is rioting inside my brain. I think it has to do with how all the Void spawn seem to know what the flame is. What I am. With that ancestral hatred of Heretics. I think…I think the Heretic God is the reason the Void doesn't have a god anymore."


As soon as that came out, she threw her head back and SCREAMED, the pain echoing off the distant cavernous walls. I snarled in frustration my fingers digging uselessly into her shoulders as agony wracked her body.


This…this was fucking TORTURE. Why was this happening? Why couldn't I help her? I could handle pain, she should just give it all to me. It would be so much less horrible than holding the woman I loved and watching her suffer when I couldn't do anything. My breathing go heavier, faster, I felt like the world was narrowing to a pinpoint. I was failing. She was going to die and I- my brain came crashing to a halt. I couldn't go into her head and help or anything, but I could do something else.


Pulling my mask off, I lowered my head to hers, pressing our foreheads together and pulling and then…we were inside my library. I picked her up, carried her to the table in the center of the room, and then started grabbing books. Empty books by the armload. I triggered Beelzebub, twelve other me's joining in, and we started pressing the tomes to her body anywhere we could find.


Then we all triggered Dantalion (I upgraded it to C-rank with my staff) and PULLED. Dantalion was the demon of information. This was the Great Book Heavenly Library, but it was also my Pride pseudo Domain. This place was made for information, for its capture and preservation, for its deduction. The tree above my own Chronicle shifted, the branches reaching down to pick up books, adding them to the connection.


Callie's screams faded. Information. Forbidden or not, this was about information. Her Void Path was telling her something, her Heretic Angel trait was telling her something else. They were fighting over what she was allowed to know, but here that wasn't their choice. In the presence of my Ten Demons Tree, with Dantalion running a rank higher, INSIDE my library, no information was hidden from me. Not the kind contained in D-rank skills or traits.


The books were filling. Mostly with gibberish. Black jagged symbols that looked nothing like letters, written in strange spiral patterns that interlocked and intersected in strange and frankly uncomfortable ways.


One of the books slammed shut, and I threw it over my shoulder, grabbing another. Then a second one did the same. I snarled, calling for more. The library had no limits on knowledge. It could hold anything. I KNEW it could. Because the library wasn't just mine. It came from the old man. He'd used it to create the most powerful Skill the universe had ever known. The perfect Skill. The Void wasn't more powerful than he was. I refused to admit that.


Books began to slam shut, and I threw them away, grabbing new ones. As I did, Callie's pain started to ease. It wasn't over, but something was happening. Just not enough. Not fast enough or completely enough. My wife was dying. I could FEEL it. And it was my fault. My half assed idea to counterbalance her Path with a trait too early. She couldn't handle combining them and…I froze.


Leaving the others to work, I turned and bolted over to one of the books. I opened it, wincing at the jarring script, and tried to use Dantalion to process or parse it. I just needed to know…pushing through the pain, I bared my teeth in a vicious grin. Perfect.


It was hard to describe the sort of inspiration that I got when dealing with these kinds of things. My natural talent and instinct for Paths. But it was there, and it was real, and my own Path, with elements of the Fatewalker, was particularly attuned to those strokes of brilliance. If it hadn't been, I doubt I would have been able to do or even explain my actions following that discovery.


I threw the book on the floor. Then went and grabbed another, and another. I piled all the books that were filling with Callie's Path and stacked them all as high as I could go, grabbing more from the tree and from my other selves as they were completed. I quickly ran out. Eventually, the books stopped filling, and Callie started whimpering in pain. "It's ok love," I told her softly, pushing sweat soaked hair out of her face.


She didn't have her mask in here, it was just those beautiful blue eyes I loved so much, staring up at me clouded with pain. I had to physically tear myself away from her side as I rushed to complete my task, but I did it. Her safety was all that mattered.


Once the book stack was complete, I ran over to grab my staff from where it floated above the tome. Then I ran back over, and I reached through the bond. Finding her Heretic Angel trait was simple, given my connection to it, and pulling on her Heretic Flame was even easier. A fist sized sphere of blue black fire manifested on the end of the staff, looking for all the world like a torch, and I lowered it to the pile.


There was a whoosh and the entire stack of books went up like they'd been soaked in kerosene. The flames caught, exploding outward and literally BLOWING me off my feet, consuming my vision in darkness and sending me falling. Falling where, I had no clue, but fall I did. I could still hear Callie screaming and I tried to get to her, but I couldn't and then…


It was over. We were both fine, sitting in a chair across a familiar table. This was the executive cafeteria in Valen, back on Callus. The first place I'd ever seen my wife. Across the table from us was a man I'd never met before. A man with startling blue eyes that faded to black rather than having a defined pupil.


He was sitting at the table, eating a steak, and when we appeared (because I somehow knew we had) he smiled warmly at the two of us. "Hello little ones," he said in a voice like simmering honey. "I've been expecting you." He gestured to the table in front of us, where a pair of plates containing a sort of red rice based stew I'd never seen before sat waiting. "Please," said the Heretic God. "Have something to eat. We aren't in much of a hurry. And I imagine you have quite a few questions."

 

[Malcolm Tent]

I stared at the kindly man in shock. Or rather, I tried to. I couldn't see him, really. My eyes were inexorably drawn to his, falling into the blue black abyss. He had the same eyes as my wife, but…more. An order of magnitude more. They were magnetic, hypnotic, whatever term you wanted to use, I couldn't look away. Like they were pulling me into an endless abyss from which I'd never escape.


And then, they weren't. "Apologies," he chuckled ruefully. "I forget that happens to mortals. I haven't entertained company in quite some time."


Callie was staring too, but she didn't seem captivated or consumed, just…lost. "I...I know you. How do I know you? Not just like, who you are, I mean. I feel like you're familiar. Like you're someone important to me. But we've never met."


"Well of course," he beamed warmly. "I like to think all children know their parents."


Her eyes hardened. "You're not my father," she said firmly. "Trust me, I wish that was the case, because you almost couldn't be worse than the one I have, but he is who he is. He might not have parented me much, but I got enough physical and mental traits from him that I couldn't deny it if I wanted to."


Laughing, he just shrugged. "Is that what makes a parent? Because it seems to me you have as much of me in you as him at this point. After all, haven't you noticed you've got my eyes?"


That seemed to throw her off balance, and I could tell she wanted to argue but didn't know how. "Yeah, about that, how did you manage that?" I forced the conversation back onto me. "Because we were just kind of throwing pasta at the wall to see what stuck. I originally thought the Heretic Flame was a lucky accident, but even my luck isn't that good. You did something."


"What a wonderful man you've found for yourself, Calliope," he laughed. "Such presence of mind. Most would take credit for such an occurrence. It's a rare man who questions his gifts and not just his misfortunes."


Callie's hand found mine, gripping it tightly enough that I could tell she was overwhelmed without needing my eyes or the bond. "That's not an answer," I pointed out.


He shrugged again. "You got close enough. The presence of the Void, the purifying flame, and a few of your more esoteric tricks. It gave me enough to work with. Once you got my attention, I just…tapped your elbow, so to speak."


"You can do that?" I said warily. "Affect a working when you're, I assume, dead?"


"Gods don't die," he told me matter of factly. "They just kind of scatter. And once they do, they retain bits of what they once were. Our Domains are…inextricably linked to who we are. With a shattered soul, it takes a VERY close match to stumble into a god's sphere of influence. But it does happen. How do you think Hatescream orchestrated his resurrection? The information necessary to engineer that kind of ritual is far beyond what you could leave in written instructions. Some fool tripped over his divinity by mistake and ended up an avatar. It happens."


Callie spoke up. "So I'm your…avatar?" She chewed on the word like it was oatmeal. "What does that mean?"


He waved it off. "It's just a word for a being through which a god acts. After a deity dies, if you want to use that word, their power is diminished to near nothingness. But stories never end. And neither do the gods they become. You know that Domains can interfere with each other, it's why Morgan Lark killed all the other vampires. They can also interact, as can the forces that will one day become them."


"I see," my wife said inscrutably. "And you used this connection to make me…what I am."


His smile was kind. "I did. Gods have always acted through their children, when they have nowhere else to turn. Your friend Satala, for instance. I chose you, Calliope. You were the only option, admittedly, but I haven't regretted that choice. You've made me proud."


I felt Callie's churn of emotions through the bond. Confusion, anger, hurt, longing. Callie's relationship with her dad was BAD. Understandably, because Paul Reynolds was a fucking scumbag. But this man was kind of a relative. Kind of a new start. And kind of intrusive, which wasn't helping. He seemed to pick up on that, because he changed gears. "As I said, I'm sure you have questions for me?" he prodded.


My wife nodded, getting her head back on the matter at hand. "Yes. So many. But I think for now, we need to know what the trait was trying to tell me. About the Void god. Could he be coming back? Could this all be because of him? If gods don't die…"


He waggled a hand. "That's complicated. The Void god called itself a god, but it wasn't, not really. Void Children, and the things they become, are not capable of divinity as we attain it. They don't have souls, exactly. Though they do have SOMETHING. Ruxx was a particularly powerful being, but its return is unlikely. I destroyed it quite thoroughly, though the effort destroyed me in turn."


"Ok," I said slowly. "Probably a bit of a sidetrack but…how? How did you do all this?" I waved at him. "The Heretic God, the Heretic Flame. Like, was that just your Domain? Did you build your whole legend around destroying the Void?"


He shook his head. "Not at all. In fact, I got my powers from the Void. It's why Calliope was so compatible with me. But I suspect you already guessed as much."


"You mentioned it was an ingredient in the Heretic Flame," I acknowledged. "But I didn't expect…that. How does that work? Like you were a god and you bent the knee to serve, what was its name? Ruxx?"


His sigh was wistful. "Not at all. I gained my divinity in service to the Void. I was originally…well, I had a complicated childhood, let's say that. I was very strong as a boy. Possibly too strong. All the other children in my city looked up to me, and I gloried in the adulation. I was tall and powerful, everyone expected great things from me."


Those blue black eyes lost focus, staring off into the distance. "Except for one small thing. I wasn't an Ascendant. I didn't have a point of Impact. Several of the other boys did, and they gained power quickly. I was left behind, abandoned, and I was angry.


"We knew about the Void, in those days," he explained. "And were taught its dangers. But some were seduced by its power. There was a witch, near the city I grew up in, named Morwenna. I went to see her, and I begged her for power." His smile turned bitter. "And she gave it to me. Oh yes. I became an Ascendant, I stepped onto the path to power, and I never looked back."


I grimaced. "Favors like that aren't free. Especially not from the Void."


"No," he said with a sad laugh. "No they are not. This one certainly wasn't. I was approached years later, once I reached D-rank. I was told I would become a Vessel.


"Being the Vessel of a Void Child is…awful," he explained. "And wonderful. It burns out a part of you. A part that people need, but one that most of us would rather not have. The part that feels shame. Uncertainty. Doubt. The part that hesitates." His eyes narrowed with remembered pain. "It makes us monsters. And I was the very worst."


Callie was staring at him in horror. "So…what happened? How did you go from that to this?"


"When a Void Child grows, so does its Vessel," he said tightly. "And mine GREW. With my help and influence, Ruxx climbed the ranks quickly. I was powerful. My black flame was mighty, and it consumed all it touched. The fires of the Void are hungry things, and none could stand before them. Or me. Until Ruxx crossed that final threshold. Until he became a god, or some version of one. And so did I."


I blinked as everything clicked together. "Your soul," I said as I got it. "The damage he did was to your soul, but when you became a god it pushed your soul up with you. Mirror souls are special. It fixed whatever he did."


"It did," he nodded. "It was the most excruciating thing I have ever experienced. But when it was done, I felt…everything. And I hated. Myself. Ruxx. Morwenna. Hell, I hated the world." As he spoked, he began to weave his fingers, pulling specks of burning cinder from the air. He started to weave, and I knew without looking what he was making. A Chronicle. Callie's Chronicle.


He reached out and pulled free some of her shadow from the table, using it as thread as he started to stitch together a book. Callie watched, but didn't stop him. He was doing this, but we both knew he wasn't. She was. This place was hers, and he was acting through her to create this. We could both feel his good intentions, both feel how useful this would be, so we just sat and listened to the story as he stitched.


"I spent millennia wallowing," he said as he worked. "Hating, and breaking, and healing. Until I made a choice. I decided that I had had enough. That the Void's grip on realspace was too strong. In those days, the universe as a dark and terrible place. They kept us alive as servants. As pawns and amusements. Because Ruxx was lazy and liked what we could do for it.


"So I began to plan. The fires of the Void were powerful, but they couldn't affect the Void itself. They were a weapon that could only be turned on my own." His voice rang with shame and self loathing. "So I went out and began to search for ways to change them. I searched for centuries, eventually stumbling upon a spark of divinity from a goddess of purification. An ember that had been one of her objects of power."


He held up a hand, and the blue black flame we had come to know kindled in his palm, leaping and dancing as he stared into it. "There was more. It was a long journey. But I eventually reached the end. I kindled a spark of Heretic Fire. I burned the Void from my very BONES, and I took up a war standard against the Void Children, driving them from our space and freeing my people from the servitude I help cast them into.


"They lauded me as a hero," he said in disgust. "No one was left who remembered what I had done. What I had been. When I changed sides, realspace had been under the boot for tens of thousands of years. I was almost glad that destroying Ruxx killed me. It was a relief not to hear their undeserved cheers of gratitude anymore. They made me sick."


His hands stopped, and he set the object he'd been holding down. It had been burning cinders before, scraps of the books I'd lit aflame to bring us here. That had been why I'd done it. But he'd stitched them together into a single, solid tome, and he pushed it towards Callie. She took it reverently, feeling the power from it, just like I could. He'd combined them for us. Her Path and Trait. Combined them more perfectly than I ever could have, and I wasn't quite sure what the result would be, even if I was eager to find out.


Callie picked it up, looking lost still, but she had one more question. This place was coming unravelled. And she had one more thing she needed to know. "What was your name?" She asked him softly.


He smiled fiercely at her. "I haven't spoken it for eons now. No one has. But I suppose, oh daughter of my heart, that if anyone deserves it, you do. I know you don't think of me in such a way, and maybe you never will, but someday, I hope to earn that regard. To have family again after all this time, and leave a mark on this world that will wash away the stain of what I did. When that day comes, when you feel ready to claim me as kin, lift your head with pride, and tell any who ask that you are the child of Adam Atlas." And then, we woke up.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

We came back to reality dazed. The first thing I did was check on Callie. "Cal? Sweetie? You with me? How's your head?" I surged Zagan, flooding her body with life energy before she could answer, and she giggled and smacked at my hand.


"Wait til I respond, idiot," she said fondly. "And I'm…good." She sounded conflicted. But not in a bad way. I helped her sit up, smiling the whole time. I was just so relieved she was alright.


Everyone around us looked frantic. I glanced around to find my family and friends huddled nearby. "Hey, assholes," snapped Benny. "Maybe show some consideration? Callie just screamed and collapsed and then Shane went down after her. I don't know what happened to you idiots but I do know the rest of us were freaking out about it, so maybe take a minute to reassure us?" His voice was ragged, and I recognized the same tight helplessness I felt earlier.


"I will," I told him firmly. "AFTER I check on Callie. I need to make sure she's ok, we just went through something a little crazy, and I'll tell you all about it in a minute."


Callie stood up, spreading her wings…which had changed. Rather than a single pair of large wings, she now had three pairs of smaller wings. Oddly, these seemed much less intrusive, able to be folded up in a way the others really hadn't, but it was still shocking. Holly, one of the angels who were part of my crew and Chelsea's retinue visibly flinched when she saw them, looking terrified. "Holy shit, are you an ARCHANGEL now?"


My wife blinked in confusion, then her eyes went hazy in the way I had experience myself a thousand times when checking my stats. "Yes," she said with interest. "My Path is gone, and so is my trait, and my ability. The only remaining evidence of any of them is 'Master Trait: Heretic Archangel'. I'll be honest, that's a bit of a let down. When Shane gets a new power his stat sheet always gets way longer and more complicated. Mine was already pretty thin."


"Trust me, that's a good thing," I assured her. "Keeping track of all my bullshit is exhausting. But I am a little surprised. I mean, I figured you'd get some kind of demigod trait after…that. Though I guess it doesn't work like that."


Holly shook her head. "You don't get it." Her voice was frustrated and tight. "This is…there are no Archangels. None. Not even S-rankers. The transition from angel to Archangel isn't a matter of degree, it's a matter of type. Archangels aren't just 'angel but better'. They're…primordial entities. It's like comparing chickens to velociraptors. An Archangel is the beloved child of a god. An entity custom built to serve the will of their deity. Angels are BASED on them, but it's like someone trying to paint a masterpiece based on the description someone gave after seeing a blurry photograph one time."


Her tone had become both reverent and terrified. Callie looked conflicted. On the one hand…cool. On the other, while we'd known creating her Chronicle would let Atlas guide the way her traits blended together, hearing about it in that way made it seem intrusive and kind of stifling. It was clear from context that he's woven together the three Skills in such a way as to make the absolute most of her trait, in the same way that the old man had created the Wish power.


Honestly, we probably would have been a lot more worried, except he had ALSO blended the bond in, and left it just as strong as ever. I could still feel my wife beside me, still feel her soul touching mine, and it put both of us at ease.


My SECOND reaction after caution was awe. Binding the Chronicle like that…it was something I hadn't even imagined doing. But it was also a direct extension of my own abilities. And I knew that he'd shown me that on purpose. He's not only rewritten her story to have the effect he wanted, he'd disassembled MY OWN books to create hers, and had used that physical representation as a direct medium to alter her nature in a way I hadn't known was possible.


Atlas understood Skill and ability creation in a way I don't think anyone I had ever met did. Possibly even moreso than the old man. And speaking of the her Chronicle, I turned to my wife with an eager gleam in my eye. "So, you have your Chronicle now, right? What is it?" My Ten Demons Tome was unique. An extension of myself and my powers. Binding a Chronicle was a deeply personal thing, and given how much Callie had put into the Skills he was working with, I was sure the result within him helping guide her had been something amazing.


She held up her hands, which whooshed to life with blue black fire. "The Book of the Final Flame. It's an extension of the Heretic Fire, which is…more than I thought." As she stared at her hands, the blue black flame shifted subtle, the blue becoming muted, and I felt a sort of cold seep into the air. The same cold and despair I felt from the black mist of the Void taint. I blinked at her. "The Flame of the Void," she explained. "The Heretic Fire contains the seed of Void flame. It was Adam's old power, after all. Now that I'm better with it I can draw that out."


"Because Heretic Fire only works on the actual Void spawn," I nodded. "Now you have a weapon against other Ascendants when you need it. Though I have to wonder, if suppressing the heretic part creates that, what does suppressing the Void part create?"


She blinked, then focused on her hands. The blue undertones in the Heretix Fire strengthened, the black parts washing out, and it felt like…I stared down at my own hands. Zagan. Kind of. More purification than life force. But still a solid healing ability. That would be useful. Holly didn't seem to care though. She was more focused on something else. "What about the sword?" We turned to look at her in confusion. "Archangels aren't just angels but better, I TOLD you that. They're the sword of their god. Literally. Archangels have a soul weapon. Like Shane does."


I blinked at that. I hadn't realized the relationship I had with the Ten Demons Tree could be replicated, but I probably should have. Hell, the tree was GROWING out of my tome. I wondered what the connection was there to a god's object of power. Regardless, Callie seemed excited by the possibility.


Personally, I was more focused on something else. "If she has a soul weapon. She must have a place to keep it. My library is a pseudo Domain based on the old man's. Does that mean Callie has her own pseudo Domain like that?" My pseudo Domains were seeds of and ACTUAL Domain, and the foundation, I was pretty sure, of a god world, albeit in a VERY indirect way. If Callie had one, it could potentially give her all sorts of unique advantages, depending what the damned thing actually did.


Holly looked pretty confused, and at a general loss, which didn't shock me. Callie, however, knew from entering my library how this worked. She smiled softly at me, closed her eyes and then…


We were alone. Or rather, together. But everyone else was gone. We were standing inside of a huge black cathedral. The windows along the sides were towering murals of stained glass showing scenes of Callie's life. One was her meeting me, one was her slaying a god, one was our wedding, and the moment I proposed, and a dozen other important moments, some featuring myself and others not.


The pews of the cathedral were empty, as was the aisle, but at the end sat an altar. It was carved of gleaming black stone so dark it ate the light, and a book sat upon it, flickering with blue black flame. Above THAT, sat a sword. A huge behemoth of a weapon, easily six feet long and made of the same black rock, polished to a sheen and sharpened to a razor's edge so sharp it stung my eyes to look at it. In the pommel, held in a clawed hand, was a deep gem of startling blue, the tones deepening to black towards the center.


Callie approached, looking awestruck. I couldn't blame her. This was…a lot. Atlas was really working for that father of the year mug. I had no idea how he had DONE all this. Apparently gods were WAY more bullshit than I had been aware of. Which made sense. I hadn't had much contact with them, really, and never when they were serious about doing something and unopposed. Also Atlas was OLD. Maybe this was just a factor of him being THAT scary.


My wife approached the altar reverently, reaching up to wrap her hand around the hilt of the colossal weapon, lifting it free of whatever orbit was holding it over the book. She lifted it easily, the blade seemingly lighter than air, and whipped it back and forth a few times, her face splitting with unconcealed glee.


I sighed. Because of COURSE he would know that giving her loot was the fastest way to my wife's heart. "Shane!" she squealed in excitement. "I have a SWORD!" She spun, whipping it in a quick series of cuts that, while mildly impressive, made it clear she had no clue how to handle a weapon that size.


I winced and stepped forward to grab her wrist. "Whoah there, let's maybe not disembowel me. Not sure what it would do here, but I'd rather not find out. I'll talk to Fade about you getting swordplay lessons." I frowned. "I'm a little jealous. Why don't we have a staff master on the crew? Remind me to find one of those."


She snickered, then flicked her fingers and the sword appeared back above the book. "It's…amazing," she whispered in awe. "I think it might be one of his objects of power. Or part of one? I don't think I could hold the whole thing. But it's powerful, and it'll get stronger as I do." Her smiled was so wide it threatened to split her face. "I've always been so jealous of your weapon, Shane. Like I didn't say anything because why bother? But this…? This is all mine, and it's AMAZING!"


Flicking her fingers again, the blade caught fire, and the whole sword lit with the internal glow of the Heretic Flame. It looked imposing and majestic, but insubstantial. Like fire trapped in a black soap bubble. "Does it have a name?" I asked her with a grin. "My Ten Demons Tree didn't until I gave it one, so maybe you have to pick it?"


She blinked at that, her hyperfocus on the blade shaking as she was brought back to the present. "It doesn't. But I think I'll call it….Gossamer."


A word that meant something filmy and insubstantial. I could kind of see it. I smiled as she raced forward to snap it up again, retreating to the empty area behind the altar to swing it around. She looked so happy, all I could do was watch and smile. At least on the outside. Time in the soul space could be weird, so we weren't in a rush, but I had other concerns besides my family waiting for an explanation.


Because this was…a lot. Like yes, Atlas wanted Callie to be his legacy, to right his wrongs and redeem him to the world. I suspected he probably eventually wanted to be resurrected, but that was between them. We'd deal with it when it came. But to do all this for her. This wasn't currying favor with your new kid. This was arming his daughter for war.


We knew the Void was planning something. It was probably related to the Void god, or at least a new one, judging by what had triggered the Chronicle formation. But that was ALL we knew. What I was more worried about was all the things we DIDN'T know? Who were our real enemies? What were they planning? And how awful was it going to be that a dead god had felt the need to give Callie THIS to prepare her for it. There was no such thing as a free lunch, and I had the unsettling feeling this particular meal was going to include us eating a lot of crow.

 

[Malcolm Tent]

Once we emerged from Callie's soul space, I explained everything to my friends and family. Inner circle only, of course, under Murmur. Of course, everyone wanted to see Gossamer, and my wife was all too pleased to show off her new soul weapon. Even my mom was jealous. My dad, apparently, had his own ( the cane he tapped to summon his contracted souls), but they weren't common below S-rank.


I had never even realized that my relationship with my staff was something so rare until they told me. Apparently everyone just assumed I already knew soul weapons were a thing since I had one, but I'd assumed it was just a unique interaction between me and the Ten Demons Tree.


It wasn't unique, but it WAS extremely uncommon. In this case though it wasn't an example of me doing some impossible bullshit by accident, as sometimes happened. The Reincarnation Tree my staff was made from was rare and mysterious, and the power interaction was as much on its part as mine. In my case though, it had interacted with the soul space I already had to form that bond, as opposed to Callie's soul space forming in response to the weapon itself.


"I want one!" Bethy trilled happily, appearing in front of us in excitement. "Show me how! I want it to be able to summon a wardrobe! Or an umbrella! Or a paintbrush! Ooooh! What if I made Luggage my soul weapon! People would sneak up on me expecting to beat me up and then BAM! Dogalanche!"


"Ok one, 'dogalanche' isn't a word," my wife said wryly. "Two, I don't think you can have a living being as a soul weapon, and three, if dogalanche WAS a word, it would imply a large number of dogs. One of something isn't an 'alanche"."


She stomped her foot in pique. "Luggage is the best! He's worth a thousand dogs! He can be a dogalanche, just you watch!"


I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Honey, what's rule number five on the Bethy list?"


"Never tell Bethy she can't do things," she groaned. "Look, that wasn't a challenge. Please don't make this a thing?"


I buried my head in my hands and screamed in frustration. "What's rule number FIVE?"


But it was futile, Bethy had vanished into the crowd, probably off to do something impossible and disturbing. My mother was giggling hysterically at our antics, and when I glared at her she held up both hands in self defense. "Sorry, it's just funny. She reminds me of an old friend of your father's." She glanced at dad. "Actually, what happened to Tim?"


He shrugged. "Last time anyone saw him he was trying to create a perfect Stealth skill by convincing himself he didn't exist. He vanished after that, so either it worked or he got bored and wandered into some kind of hidden pocket universe again. He's done that a few times. Either way, he'll probably pop up at some point where no one is expecting him and ruin someone's plans in some convenient and terrifying way."


My mom snickered. "Anyway, best not to worry about people like her. They always end up coming out on top. Some people are just loved by the universe. Bethy will be alright. And you two will as well, apparently." She stepped forward to wrap Callie in a hug. My wife stiffened, eyes widening as my mother said fiercely. "You really scared us there, sweetie. I'm so glad you're alright."


"Sadly, the good news ends at your survival," my dad added grimly. "We've been doing some thinking about the information you shared, and based on a few odds and ends you told us, we think we know what the Void has planned." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out…something. It looked like mercury, kind of, but more shimmery, and physically painful to stare at. It was confined inside of a familiar looking crystal. "Is this the spatial anchor you mentioned for the ladder?"


Callie nodded. "Yeah, that's one of the anchors. It's good you found one. I imagine they've been scattering them pretty deep, but the more we can dig up, the better chance we can stop this. But what do you mean you figured out the plan? The Ladder drags the planet into the Void, they destroy us and snap up a generation of Wishmaster candidates. Right?"


"Doesn't fit," he said with a head shake. "Or at least not with that rogue faction Shane mentioned. But if you add in the existence of the Void god, and this thing…" I gestured to it. "What if rather than dropping the planet in wholesale, they were planning to scatter it across the Void. Would the ladder do that? Use the anchors to rip the heirworld to pieces and disperse them across the whole of the Void?"


That got a horrified wince from my wife. "I mean…theoretically. Ladders have rungs. But there's no reason to do that. It would kill most of us. That would be a huge waste of potential converts and resources."


"Except we know that there's a faction targeting the Void itself. Or at least hoping to expand," my mother explained. "And now that we know that the ladder can connect multiple points, and we know how Void gods are formed…we've figured out the endgame. They're going to use the heirworld as an invasion nexus."


Callie looked confused for a second, then she went pale. "You mean move an army through this place and into other parts of the Void to consume them and get stronger? Try to create a Void god?"


I knew the Void god thing would be involved, after Atlas made such a big deal of forcing the information through whatever block the Void had tried to establish. But this sounded pretty bad. My parents seemed to agree, but the bad news wasn't over yet. "Not an army," Zeke corrected, breaking his previous silence. "That would mean sharing the power. Maybe some Void spawn, but it'll only be the one Void Child. In fact, it might ALREADY be happening. That fake alliance they offered Shane smacks of a stall tactic. Could the ladder be partially open? Connecting a few locations to start?"


"Theoretically," Callie admitted. "If they really are trying to scatter the planet like that, it would need to be done gradually. This world is protected by quite a few safeguards. The only good news is that the Void Child won't be able to come here directly until the ladder is established. The rungs will connect two points, and it'll be able to use those to bounce around in the void, but the planet isn't connected itself yet. Think of it like the individual rungs are already constructed but they aren't actually mounted on anything yet."


"Then we need to find more of these," my dad said, holding up the anchor. "The more we find the more we slow them down. If we find enough, can we completely derail the construction? Assuming we don't get them all?"


She nodded firmly. "Like I said, gradual. We can stop it. And we need to. Whatever Void Child is doing this is going to be growing from this. Fast."


"We have another problem," I pointed out. "Atlas's story made it clear that the Vessels grow alongside their masters. And whatever means they use to do that completely circumvents the normal progression system. Atlas's soul was forcibly elevated to mirror when his master became a god. That implies there's no inherent limit to Vessel growth."


My mom sighed. "Which means the Vessel currently on this planet representing this hypothetical future Void god could be reaching A, S, or even god rank inside the confines of the heirworld and completely bypass any and all safeguards. We need to stop this, now."


"I say we contact the grandparents," I said after a moment's thought. "Try to get them to pressure the council of elders with this information. Change the point bounties to anchors instead of Void infiltrators at LEAST. Maybe even do something more proactive, as unlikely as that is. If nothing else they can spread the word of what's really at stake. The Void collapse is kind of esoteric and hard to imagine, given how long this world has been around, but a rogue S-ranker? That's the kind of shit Wyndhams pay attention to."


"We've made good progress on the bounties as is anyway," my mom assured me. "Your B-rankers, under supervision of course, hit a few more targets while you were down. We also received reports from a few of the other teams. B-rank bounties are a hundred points each, and with six of them and another twenty C-rank bounties at ten apiece, we raked in another seven hundred fifty points today."


That was good news at least. I'd had two hundred fifty already, and this put me up to a solid thousand. I was pretty sure I'd be able to redeem most of my people with that much, though I hoped the redemption cost didn't correspond to the bounties or I'd be woefully short.


Exhaling, I nodded. "Alright, let's head up and get in touch with the others. Whatever the council decides to share, I want our allies filled in on the stakes. We'll have to scatter again after that, but at the very least we can hit more anchors with them helping. I want to get as many of them as we can before the Void realizes we're onto them."


The sources of information we were working with on this weren't anything the Void could know about. Atlas was totally off their radar in his current form, at least I hoped so. I had to trust the ancient god knew how to cover his tracks. Even if word got out about the Heretic Flame, I was pretty sure the whole Chronicle formation thing was something most gods couldn't have pulled. My dad had cheated his ass off to make it happen with me, and we were blood related.


But as soon as they realized we were pushing for the anchors, they would figure out what we were doing, and this whole thing would go from cat and mouse to all out war. I suspected that the forces of the potential Void god were helping us out right now, at least based on my conversation with that Vessel. It explained a few things about how quickly we got the information on where those bases were in the B-rank zone.


Which meant that not all of the Void were currently acting against us, and that would change once they caught onto our plan. I wanted to do some damage before that happened.


More than that, I needed information. If that Vessel I talked to was the Vessel in charge of this little invasion/coup plan, then he was our target. If we could find and kill him early it would be a huge relief. I didn't want to deal with a fucking S-ranker running amok on the planet.


I mentioned this to my parents, and my dad glanced at my mother with a sigh. "There…might be someone who could help," he told me uncertainly. "A lot of the coordination across the heirworld in the fight against the Void has come from the The Empty Room. They're an organization dedicated to studying the Void. Combat, travel, they have their fingers in lots of pies. Their current leader lives on the heirworld. If anyone could get you more information on individual Vessels its him."


Based on his hesitation, and on Atlas's story, I could understand why he didn't want me to meet this guy. The Void was all about corruption, and the people who studied them would be neck deep in it. I doubted they were fully traitors, they would be under close scrutiny, but I somehow didn't think the reputation or the beings they interacted with led to stable and likable personalities. But hey, maybe I was just paranoid. Whatever the case, I'd take all the help I could get.