A gentle prodding, a nudge, an insistent beckon. Some distant part of Sam’s brain registered the pressure on his shoulder. It came in sporadic fits until it could no longer be ignored. He groaned and swatted it away. Small chitters and squeaks echoed in his ears, and he opened bleary eyes to behold a world come undone.

  The throne room was dying.

  The [Great Nemisian Bloodroot], whose thick branches had held up the imposing ceiling, were rapidly decaying. The light was noticeably dimmer, twisting and warping with the steady cascade of falling leaves. Sam’s gaze was drawn to the stunted figure who had dashed away from him. He reflexively tilted his head and let out an involuntary shudder as the strained muscles in his neck shrieked in protest.

  The tiny creature retreated, hiding behind a pillar. Sam’s addled brain struggled to place it, his mind unable to reconcile the strange, dog-like silhouette. Two more of the creatures joined the first, and the connection snapped into place.

  The pups, he realized. Their elongated, skeletal forms had shrunk to less extreme proportions. Their fur was smoother, more wolf-like, and less so the bristles of a wild boar.

  Somehow, they’d escaped the backlash from the destruction of the Soulstone. While the rest of the ghūl had withered, their essence returning to the stone, the pups managed to escape unharmed. He wondered how much they understood. He wondered why he was still alive.

  “Hey,” he mumbled, pushing himself upright. “I’m not going to hurt you.” His body ached, but nothing seemed to be broken. An ever-growing collection of scars marred his arms. The cuts on his chest had mostly healed, but the deepest ones still oozed blood. “Can you understand me?”

  The largest of the group poked their head around the ancient stone. While the fear in their eyes was apparent, they hesitantly nodded.

  “You need to get out of here. This whole place is going to collapse. Warriors, others like me, will probably come. You should go into the tunnels. Hide. It should be safe after a while.”

  On paper, he had no reason to help the creatures. He was sure that if he killed them, they’d grant spira like any other monster. In his heart, he knew why. He’d completed the quest out of necessity, not out of malice. A part of him empathized with the plight of the Ghūl, even if he disagreed with their methods. If he hadn’t encountered the Draug first, he might have sided with the ghouls instead. Fortune had led him down a path; it didn’t mean he had to like it.

  “Go,” he yelled, louder, waving a hand at them. “Get whatever food you can carry and get out of here. Go!” The last word came out in a snarl as he forced himself to his feet. Every single part of his body ached. The last time he’d felt this bad had been after the opening ceremony. His enhanced body should have lessened the impact. It just showed how close he’d come to death.

  Too close, he scolded himself. Once again, he’d been pushed into a bad situation by forces beyond his control. The timer that loomed just out of sight was a constant reminder, but the increased pressure from other parties had only made matters worse.

  The pups scrambled back as he lurched towards them, but they got the hint. He allowed himself a small smile as they loped out of the hall and into the village. Maybe it was possible for them to survive. Maybe the Arbiter would return the Dungeon after the War; he had no way of knowing. All he knew was he’d managed to do something good. A tiny beacon of light in an ocean of darkness.

  He sighed as he shuffled towards the remnants of the [Ghūl Matriarch]’s corpse. All that remained were a few scraps of armour and cloth, bundled around a noticeable lump. He stored the mass and pulled up his tafla, shocked by the sheer number of notifications. First things first, he checked his inventory.

  [Njord’s Pauldron of Gales - Iron - Rare]

  This leather and bronze pauldron is imbued with the strong north wind. Honed over many voyages, this artifact was passed down through generations of Var sea captains.

  Grants increased protection from physical ranged projectiles.

  Active Ability: Tempest Shield

  Forms a protective barrier of wind around the target, blocking most physical and arcane attacks.

  18 Hr Cooldown

  [Durability 87/125]

  He raised an eyebrow upon reading the description, a phantom pain flaring in his chest from where he’d taken the draug arrow. He nodded and equipped the item, letting out a small grunt as it fit itself snuggly over his right shoulder. The studded leather and metal moulded to his steadily growing muscle, the straps coming down just above the [Enchanted Pugilist Band]. He flexed and grinned as the joints moved easily over the shredded remains of his tunic. His right side had often endured the worst damage, unprotected by a shield. Having the additional armour would likely save him quite a bit of pain in the long run.

  That’s assuming I can find a new shield, he lamented, glancing at the splintered remains of his old one. It felt silly to feel any kind of sentiment towards an inanimate object, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as he stored the [Ruined] item. The shield had been one of his first companions in the wild and had protected him from certain death on more than one occasion. He hoped he could find a sturdier replacement.

  He did a sweep of the hall, looting what he could. The movement helped limber up his stiff muscles, his [Mana Network] thrumming to life as it directed passive [Battle Healing] through the gamut that were his many injuries.

  The biggest shock came just below the great stone dais. [Arcane Eyes] flared amidst the faded grey of decaying magic. A pulsing line of red shone through the decomposing pollen, and he brushed it aside to show the remains of his [Tempered Var Short Spear]. The weapon was hanging on by a thread. The shaft was splintered and cracked, the head bent and twisted. It crackled with a subtle red energy, and he recalled that it had been embedded in the Soulstone when it had imploded. How had it survived? He inspected it with a glance.

  [Tempered Var Short Spear - Iron - Uncommon - Corrupted]

  Built in the Pre-Fall Ilen’Var style, this spear is designed to cause maximum damage on the thrust. The head shape also allows it to be used as an effective cutting weapon. Moderate piercing and slashing damage.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Corrupted: This item has been imbued with the will of Nemesis.

  [Durability 1/100]

  Sam let out a small exhale. A single point of durability remained. The number felt intentional, especially coupled with the [Corrupted] tag. His fingers brushed the shaft, and a thrum of unrestrained anger shot up his arm. He gasped at the sudden influx of foreign mana. It felt as though all the latent will of the dead Ghūl was condensed into the weapon. The hunger for revenge was apparent.

  He stored the item, shoulders sagging at the prospect of traversing back through the Dungeon without a proper weapon. He had a few rusted swords and pitted maces and axes, but nothing that would utilize his [Spear Mastery]. He just had to hope that he didn’t run into any other Warriors on the return trip. The ancient Var weapons likely wouldn’t hold up to even the slightest abuse. They were a last resort at worst.

  He pulled up his tafla again and checked his overall stats. The fight had garnered him a little progress, but his eyes were immediately drawn to his new title.

  Name: Samuel Lin

  Race: Human

  Patron: N/A

  Class: N/A

  Rank: Iron

  Titles

  [Child of Babel]

  [Deific Mark]

  [Rodent’s Resilience - Tier 4]

  [Apostate - Tier 4]

  [Giantslayer - Tier 1]

  Achievements

  [First Blood]

  [Frugal Beastslayer]

  [Frugal Usurper]

  [Skill Morph]

  [Mana Network]

  Enhancement Skills

  [Basic Constitution - Tier 5]

  [Battle Healing - Tier 1]

  [Basic Stamina - Tier 4]

  [Basic Strength - Tier 4]

  [Arcane Eyes - Tier 3]

  [Basic Mental Resistance - Tier 3]

  Martial Skills

  [Basic Shield Proficiency]

  [Simple Melee Weapon Proficiency]

  [Spear Mastery - Tier 5]

  [Longinus Strike - Tier 1]

  [Light Armour Proficiency]

  [Spira: 3,030]

  [Giantslayer - Permanent - Iron - Tier 1 - Upgradeable]

  You have fought and killed a [Dungeon Boss] without the aid of a party. Increased damage to all [Boss] type enemies.

  He let out a low whistle as he read the text. Dungeons seemed like an integral part of the War, and he was likely to face quite a few more bosses before it was done. [Rodent’s Resilience] was one of his most powerful skills, and while this title certainly seemed more niche, he didn’t doubt it would be equally as impactful.

  He reviewed his overall gains, eyes stopping as he realized that he’d also reached Tier 5 in [Basic Constitution]. Given the sheer breadth of damage that he’d received in the fight, it felt like fair compensation. He’d only realized it after the fact, but he’d been subtly directing the skill to strengthen different parts of his body in the moments before getting hit. It had been a chaotic, uncertain thing, but that direction was likely what had helped him clear the threshold.

  He selected the skill and toggled through the potential evolutions.

  [Standard Constitution - Iron - Common - Upgradable]

  Further increases overall hardiness and resistance to physical attacks. Grants additional resistance to poison, venom and disease.

  Cost: 2,000 Spira

  [Iron Skin - Iron - Uncommon - Upgradable]

  Retains the properties of [Standard Constitution]. Grants additional protection to piercing and slashing attacks.

  Active Ability: Harden’s the Warrior’s skin to the consistency of Iron for 5 seconds. Scales with ability Tier.

  3 Hr Cooldown

  Cost: 2,500 Spira

  [Arcane Shell - Iron - Uncommon - Upgradable]

  Retains the properties of [Standard Constitution]. Grants additional protection from [Divine Skills].

  Cost: 2,500 Spira

  He sat down on the stairs of the dais as he reviewed his options. Once again, he was faced with a legitimate conundrum. [Iron Skin] would help shore up his physical defences. The cooldown was fairly short, and while five seconds didn’t seem like a lot, a moment of near invulnerability could be a difference maker in any fight. The fact that it scaled was only an added bonus.

  In contrast, [Arcane Shell] felt like a further step down a path he was already on. [Apostate] had proven to be invaluable in lessening the impact of [Divine Skills]. The image of the [Draug Cleric]’s necrotic blast was still fresh in his mind, and he knew he would have died without the title lessening the blow. If he committed both the skill and title to the task, he’d be incredibly resilient going forward. It felt like something that had the potential to absolutely balloon on the higher Rings.

  The problem was that he wasn’t confident he would reach the higher Rings. He’d nearly died fighting the Matriarch. Only his overlevelled skills–and a fair bit of luck–had kept him alive. [Iron Skin] would have immediate applications. It was something he could potentially utilize in almost every fight. He furrowed his brow and cycled through the [Enhancement Skills] tab, feeling a swell of confidence as he reviewed his additional options.

  There were still dozens of skills that he could choose from, and ones that would absolutely be on his list when he had the spira. A cluster of stars caught his eye, solidifying his decision.

  [Deific Resilience] sat at the center of the constellation. From it sprang a variety of hyper-specific skills. Resistance to fire, ice, nature, wind, poison. Almost any element you could imagine had a specific skill. Sam imagined these would become increasingly valuable depending on the nature of the later Rings, as well as what parties remained.

  Knowing that he had the additional option to reinforce [Apostate], the choice became clear. Ignoring the crumbling throne room, he purchased [Iron Skin] without a moment’s hesitation. The time for second-guessing and indecision was past. He needed to give himself the strength to overcome the enemies right in front of him. His suite of defensive skills was quickly turning him into a juggernaut, one that could get in and dish out a ton of damage.

  He grinned through the pain as his skin rippled and pulsed. The skill purchase completed after only a few minutes of discomfort, and as he’d hoped, healed most of his shallow flesh wounds.

  He made his way back out through the village and up the spiral staircase. All around him, stones were coming loose and tumbling free as the roots of the trees above withered at a visible pace. The anima of Nemesis had kept the trees alive, and without her constant thirst for vengeance, the towering monarchs were quickly losing their vitality.

  He emerged into the main cavern of the Twilight Crypts with no pomp or fanfare. Other than a general dimming of the light, it looked much the same as it had when he entered. The [Mooneye Gem] rose above him to help compensate, but he knew it would be a treacherous journey back to the Court of the Primordial Dawn.

  [Matricide] had been completed, but he still had additional rewards to extract from the ancient necromancer. The quest to ‘discover the secrets of the Twilight Crypts’ still resolutely refused to resolve. Some key piece of information remained, and he had a hunch he knew where to find it.

  He tightened the strap on his pauldron and set out across the ruined landscape. Time was ticking away, and he didn’t have any to waste.

  He had a date with death.