The extra attribute points gained from successfully accomplishing a Feat essentially gave Nick two and a half levels in his best stats, allowing him to exceed what his already high level should normally provide.

  But while that, and all the experience gained from the ritual, were very valuable, the most important thing he’d gained was the Shard.

  It looked duller now that no mana flowed through it, the orichalcum a matte black and the crystal veins mere transparent glass. But Nick knew that if he even pushed a spark of mana into it, the staff would activate, boosting his already high natural power.

  He deliberately prevented that from happening, as he had already caused a stir with the new addition, and even Raphael, who had seemed distracted and distant ever since that dinner when he announced their next steps, had given him a long look, clearly able to sense that there was more to the staff than what it appeared to be.

  “I didn’t take you for a staff guy,” Willow said from where she was sitting next to him, “more a wand guy, if necessary, but you always seemed to do just fine without any focus.”

  “I don’t think over-preparation will be an issue anytime soon,” he replied. “We’re about to leave for an area with a high known monster activity. It shouldn’t be so surprising that I want to be ready.”

  He didn’t mention the dungeon on purpose. First, because he didn’t want to reveal he had sources capable of intercepting such high-level information, and secondly, because he still wasn’t sure whether Tholm would take them inside.

  It was still possible that the location was just a coincidence. His target was Hone’s lands, so they may not come into contact with it.

  Who am I kidding? If he wants to strike a blow at Hone’s House, he must prevent them from accessing the dungeon at all costs.

  As far as One-Ear knew, there was a standing order not to destroy it, which made sense given what happened to the last one that was found. That meant the asset couldn’t be entirely removed from the board, or they risked bringing the Royal Court down on them—something anyone with a bit of sense would want to avoid.

  But that didn’t mean Tholm had no way to be a pain in the ass. He could monopolize access, for one, though that probably wouldn't last long. Or he could use his influence to empower Hone’s local enemies.

  Whatever it is, I doubt it’s going to be short and sweet. He’s a man on a mission. More likely, he’s trying to provoke Hone into stepping in himself, which would break the Tower Master’s orders and give him a chance to finally fight.

  Nick wondered if that was a wise choice. Tholm was an incredibly powerful and skilled Artificer, undoubtedly one of the best in the kingdom, but Hone was a battle mage of similar skill. In an open fight, he suspected his mentor’s abilities wouldn’t be enough.

  But then again, Tholm knows too, which means he has a plan. Or he will have.

  “How long are we supposed to wait for?” he asked, earning a shrug from Willow, who looked like she’d like to know that herself.

  The other apprentices were in a similar situation, having been forced to give up their projects for this trip, yet they had waited idly for an hour for their teacher to arrive and finally get started.

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  Fortunately, the wait wasn’t as long as feared, as the elevator slid open to reveal Tholm.

  Nick struggled to keep his expression impassive as more people filed into the library, especially since one of them he knew was likely a permanent resident of the sick ward.

  “Good, you’re all here,” Tholm rumbled, eyes stormy as he took them in.

  The last few days had changed the man. He’d clearly been simmering with anger over being forced to hold back when his people were attacked, and while he still carried his usual composure, it was obvious that a new spark was in his eyes, a craving for action that no enchanted ring could conceal.

  Behind him were the others who would accompany them on this field trip, serving as both security and auxiliary forces, which essentially meant people who would attend to their needs while they spent their days researching, exploring, and fighting.

  The four spellblades were expected. They probably came from the Tower’s own forces, provided they were vetted for loyalty, and could be trusted to hold back anything less than a Prestige-tier monster. They each wielded different weapons, from a short sword to a halberd, but their armor was identical—blue and white, with the Tower’s emblem stamped on the chest, and densely engraved with defensive and support enchantments.

  It was the others that Nick hadn’t expected. Four people, all with the appearance of adventurers but clearly not very powerful ones, filed in after the guards.

  They looked around the room as if they had never seen anything so luxurious, immediately dismissing the idea that they might be from noble families. Although they tried to maintain a composed facade, Nick could sense the wonder and awe they felt being so close to an Archmage.

  He struggled to think of a reason why these people would be needed, since he alone could wipe them out, but decided that if it wasn’t for their strength that Tholm wanted them, it must be for secondary services like taking care of the camp, or for their knowledge.

  It would make sense if they were a local adventuring team in the Sunlands. I could probably guide us just as well using my senses, but knowledge of the land is still valuable, especially if he wants us to split up.

  And finally, there were two people he was sure wouldn’t come, mainly because, as far as he knew, one of them was still in a deep coma.

  Osmod and his girlfriend, Epistula, entered last, the woman helping him along.

  Despite the remarkable recovery, it was clear to everyone that Osmod was still not at full strength: he looked pale and sweaty, but his being awake told Nick that something had changed.

  “Have you all taken everything you need? We might not come back for a while, and I will not be ferrying you back, no matter the reason,” Tholm said, and everyone responded affirmatively.

  Nick managed to squeeze in a quick visit yesterday evening to Wolfram Manor to explain he’d be gone for a while. He received a few curious looks at the new addition to his repertoire, but he’d managed to shift attention away by urging his brother to stay away from the Tower for now, as things were heating up.

  Xander had promised it wouldn't be a problem, as he planned to push Devon hard in the coming month to make sure he was ready for what the future held.

  That had been ominous enough for Nick to realize the old Grandmaster also sensed that things were changing quickly, and while no one knew what the world would look like in a year, it was clear some preparation was necessary.

  “Are the carriages coming to get us here?” one of the adventurers asked the others in a murmur, though it was audible to all. She seemed to notice this and reddened but didn’t have time to apologize as Tholm began barking out instructions.

  “Keep hold of each other! I don’t want anyone letting go until the footing is solid beneath your feet, and for your sanity’s sake, keep your eyes closed. Do not look into the dimensional void!”

  They all moved to the center of the library, where the four spellblades each grabbed Tholm’s shoulders or arms and extended their own for others to take hold.

  Thus, four lines were formed, with Tholm at the center.

  “Again, do not, for any reason, open your eyes or attempt to sense anything. Do you understand me?!” he growled, and only after everyone confirmed and closed their eyes did he relax a little.

  Nick was tempted to ignore the instructions, confident that he could survive that much thanks to [Blasphemy], but decided to tempt fate another time. Tholm was far too tense to risk his wrath right now anyway.

  Hopefully, he’ll unwind a bit once we’re away from the Tower.

  With his eyes closed and his mystical senses pulled back as much as possible, Nick was caught off guard when the ground suddenly gave way.

  For a long moment, everything felt confusing. Up was down, left was right, and time had no meaning. They drifted and rushed at the same time, existing in the same space yet moving through something.

  The only constant was the feeling of the Tower’s beaconing light, which radiated into the void and illuminated the path.

  Then it was over, and Nick’s feet touched solid ground again.

  He waited a moment longer and only opened his eyes when Tholm announced they had arrived.

  Cautiously, Nick opened his eyes and slowly expanded his senses.

  Where the warm wooden flooring, comfortable furniture, and endless bookshelves once were, now only rolling fields of swaying grain could be seen.

  Gold, green, and red filled his vision equally, revealing the wide variety of plants that could grow in the shadow of the fertile Valis River, until Nick’s senses expanded enough to see that it was just a small patch of land, with muddy, sun-baked, clayish soil stretching beyond.

  His attention was torn away from the environment as two people on horseback and a third moving through the ground below them, all approaching them as if they had been waiting.

  He tensed up, pulling his staff out again and preparing to defend himself, but Tholm stopped him with a raised hand. “They’re our allies,” he said, and his tone was noticeably more relaxed now.

  The four spell blades had already moved out to create a perimeter around them by the time the two people Nick sensed, along with the hidden one, arrived.

  They cleared the guards' scrutiny and were allowed in, moving directly toward Tholm with a mix of trepidation and relief.

  “Archmaster, I must admit I was surprised by the change in plans, but it is still a pleasure to see you," said the older of the two, who wore a golden chain to keep his fluttering red and green cloak on his shoulders. He had salt-and-pepper short hair, a long nose, and deep-set eyes, along with muscles that Nick recognized from many older knights.

  The other was similar enough in features to suggest they were related, though he couldn’t tell if he was a son, grandson, or another kind of relative. He was quite excited, even as he did his best to stay calm.

  “Lord Charmace,” Tholm tilted his head just slightly, enough to show acknowledgment but nowhere near deference, “as I mentioned in the letter, things have moved quickly and required a change of plans. I hope our arrangement still stands," he said with a definite note of steel in his voice.

  Charmace appeared to notice that as well, if the brief flash of displeasure that crossed his signature was any sign, but he kept it from showing on his face.

  For an older lord, he was easier to read than those Nick had met at the castle, but then again, his personal strength was greater, so it was likely he was a martial class rather than a noble one.

  “It is, I have had my men scout ahead. I will also leave my youngest son, Monte, with you. He will be able to act in my stead and will serve as a communication link between your advanced camp and our forces,” he explained, gesturing to the older teenager, who puffed up eagerly.

  Nick looked at him with pity. What a cruel fate, to be used as an expendable pawn by his own father. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to be coddled from the horrors of the world.

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