Veyra waited just inside the entrance to the dungeon for a little over half an hour, giving the younger delvers enough time to get a decent head start. Once she was sure she wouldn’t risk running into them, she summoned her Light Clone. The little sprite sent waves of soft, golden light cascading over the nearby walls as it hovered slightly in place. Smiling down at the cute little creature with its thin frame and fragile wings, she blew on it gently, and it vanished.
? “Going for the remote option, eh?” Bolton asked, nodding his understanding. “Of course, even you can’t get too close without being noticed.”
? Veyra ignored that last comment, focusing her mind’s eye on the sprite as it raced through the corridors of the dungeon. Few delvers below level ten knew that, like Shadow, the Light element could be turned invisible as well. She’d known the trick since level eight, and now, as a weaker mid-tier level eleven, she’d fully mastered the ability to make her Elemental Clone invisible when using the Light aspect. There wasn’t a single entity in this dungeon, delver or monster, that could register the presence of her Clone.
? ?This group was working quickly, she noted with approval. The duelist had some natural talent in his role, and though the girl was sloppy in her mana control, she had a good sense of her surroundings. She reacted to surprise enemy attacks with commendable speed and kept a respectable cycle of buffs going on the two boys who fought around her. She paused then, her Clone’s eyes shifting from side to side. The tank fought more like a duelist… Perhaps he was filling. He parried with his sword more often than his shield, indicating that he wasn’t quite comfortable with using it.
? Now to find the boy, she thought, pushing her Clone ahead. If he had a good head on his shoulders, he’d have pushed ahead quite a ways, but only to the next encounter. She found him after two sharp turns, including a double-back that caught even her by surprise. There he was. Crouching in the shadows in a corner of the second large chamber, studying the enemies. Nothing different from what they’d faced in the antechamber, surely. What was catching his attention?
? “I feel obligated to warn you,” a voice said to her left, “That the Judicial Guild watching over the core of this dungeon has posted a level fifteen squad. You will not be able to destroy it.”
? She gave a small jump of surprise and pulled out of the mind of her Elemental Clone. Taking two quick steps back, she found herself looking into the eyes of an undead priest with a lantern hanging from one hand. She felt no sense of danger from the monster, and that told her who it was at once.
? “Ah, Emissary,” she said, letting out a low breath. “You nearly made me jump out of my skin there.”
? She gave Bolton a quick glare for not warning her of the emissary’s approach. The man was so straight-faced that it was clear he was holding back a grin. “Rest assured, Emissary. We have no intention of attacking your core.”
? The priest stared at her silently for a minute or two more, then seemed to accept her words. “Very well. You must forgive my rude assumption. I could think of no reason to see such a high-level delver here.”
? She could understand his fear. If there were no obstacles in her way–and she were so inclined–even he would be powerless to stop her from finding and destroying the core of this dungeon. With an eight-level difference, he knew how powerless he was. But destroying a core wasn’t just a nation-wide taboo; it was a despicable, destructive act that she personally hated. She’d taken part in one core destruction in her career. A Lethal, level eight dungeon that had spawned right inside Ironmarsh. It had been necessary to protect the citizens, but she still hadn’t liked murdering one of the sentient dungeons.
? “I’m here to watch a promising youngster,” she told the emissary. “There’s something interesting about him, and I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
? “Hmm… The young, silver-haired one, I presume?”
? “That’s the one.” She focused in on her Elemental Clone again, but kept enough of her mind back to be more aware of her surroundings. Grim had left the second chamber by then, making his way back to the party. With his forewarning, the group was prepared for the surprise encounter and handled it easily enough.
? “Not bad.”
? “What’s that?” Bolton asked, taking half a step forward.
? “The way this boy moves,” she said. “He’s subtle, like a shadow. But he could have taken care of that small pack all on his own. I don’t understand his hesitation.”
? “Well, he is level three,” Bolton offered. “It’s not common for a delver with his experience to be that confident.”
? She pursed her lips, not sure if she agreed. Sure, the boy had a timid personality. But his spirit had risen in rebellion against her prodding that night, and resisted her light attempts to delve deeper into his core. Children of Evandross were known for their spiritual resilience, yes, but this seemed a tad different.
? “I’d love to see what he could do with a real weapon in his hand,” she commented. “He’s only got the one dagger right now, and it’s level two.”
? That made Bolton perk up. “Is it ranked?”
? “Nope. Just plain old steel. He’s had to stop and run a stone over it once already. I’m not sure that thing’s going to last much longer than this delve. I’d be surprised if the boss doesn’t just melt it.”
? “The boss of this dungeon does have access to fire,” the emissary informed them. “It’s very weak, but a level two dagger, with no enchantments or rank, would be easily melted.”
? “Still, he’s focusing on stealth,” she continued, as if the emissary hadn’t spoken, though she did file the information away. “He’s acting as a pure scout, rather than a supplemental duelist. I’m not sure the party will have the damage necessary to make up that gap. Unless the girl has some offensive skills…”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
? Bolton retrieved a notebook from his bag and thumbed through a few pages. “Aria Kett… She’s listed as a junior apprentice, even after a year in her guild. Failed one advancement exam and hold steady at C-Rank.”
? “Does it have her skills listed?”
? “It has a few, though I’m not sure it’s the full list. These lists can sometimes take months to be updated, and this one isn’t the newest edition. But it says here she’s Light and Fire attuned, and her skills are… Ah, yes.. Cat’s Grace, Brute Force, and Light Creation.”
? “That Light Creation will be useful against the boss,” she mused. “I assume he’s a debuff and swarm type?”
? “Debuff, yes. But he saps his opponent’s strength and introduces little, lingering poisons,” the emissary replied.
? “So debuffs and bleeds,” she sighed. “Yes, if they’re Shadow attuned, she could cancel the worst of them. But that’ll make her a target, and I’m not too confident in the performance of this tank. He’s filling, and doing it poorly.”
? “Is this going to take much longer?” Bolton asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Our meeting with Damien is in thirty-two minutes.”
? “There’s no way you know the exact minute,” she retorted, though she knew otherwise. “Let me just see him reach the second floor. I’m liking the look of him more and more. I wonder why he hasn’t approached us…”
? “That’s probably because he remembers you only as that drunk woman who harassed him and ruined his peaceful meal.”
? She couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was probably more true than she’d like to admit. She wasn’t the best version of her whenever she visited this city. The pageantry, the obsequious traditions, she hated them all. In Ironmarsh, strength and service to others were valued highly above all other attributes. You grew as a delver, and you used that growth to serve the people you lived with. But here… they were so far from a serious dungeon threat that they’d forgotten what power was truly used for.
? Grim had found a patrolling priest during his scouting, she saw. It saw him too, and began to lift its lantern, trying to discern the identity of the flickering shadow at the end of the hall. Don’t hesitate, boy, she thought. Then, with a flare of approval, she saw him dart forward. Good. Attack before it could sound the alarm.
? “My, that was quick,” the emissary muttered. “I don’t know that I’ve seen too many of the priests fall that quickly.”
? “Huh? What happened?” Bolton, frustrated more than ever by his inability to spy through an Elemental Clone as his captain did, begrudged his inability to see what she could. “Did Grim do something?”
? “He took down a priest,” Veyra told him. She grinned widely. “By all the ancestors, that boy is quick. He took it out in one hit to its core. Beautiful critical hit.”
? Grim was already out of his Shadow Dash and at the other end of the hallway before the roaming priest collapsed to the ground. Veyra might have caught the falling body to avoid any unnecessary noise, but she didn’t begrudge his priority to peer around the next corner, searching for foes. He’s going for speed over stealth now, she thought. The change of tactic was interesting, but not all too surprising.
? “And just like that, he’s found the first boss,” she reported. “Some kind of fat clergyman.”
? “Ah, Rickard,” the emissary confirmed. “He’s a powerful man in spite of his undead status. Your friend’s party will find him a true challenge.”
? “I’m sure,” she muttered half-heartedly. “Great weapon user. He’s gonna put that tank to work. Hope the boy has Iron Hide, at least.”
? “Guard would serve him just as well,” Bolton put in. She couldn’t argue with that logic. “Easier for him to get his hands on, too.”
? Veyra watched as Grim led the party to the final confrontation on the floor. They had a good formation, but the mage and tank were too slow to adapt. Rickard got in an early blow that the tank only just managed to block–using Guard, as Bolton had suspected. He might have been in more trouble if it weren’t for a lightning-fast cut to the knee from Grim.
? “He’s fast,” she said again. “But having only the one knife is hurting him. If he’d had two, he could have actually crippled it there.”
? Bolton, his frustration with not seeing the fight increasing, brought up the public information on the dungeon in his notebook and read aloud. “Rickard. Large undead tank-type monster. Specializes in crushing mace attacks and… a roll? How ridiculous.”
? “It’s pretty funny to watch,” Veyra said with a snort. Rickard had just then tried to crush the duelist with such a roll. Then, as the duelist recovered and delivered a nasty gash to the boss’s flank, she let out a low whistle. “That duelist is pretty damn good at landing critical hits. He’s chained two so far.”
? Achieving even one critical hit in a fight at their level was already impressive, Bolton thought. To land a second was even more so. “Not bad. He’s the other unaffiliated one, isn’t he? I wonder why he isn’t at least with one of the local delver guilds. With that skill level, he might even be able to claim a spot with the Boars.”
? “Not right now, he can’t,” she corrected. The Beastwick Boars, the largest delving guild in the capital, was known to take on non-nobles but refused to recruit anyone under level five. “Perhaps he’s advancing solo instead of with a guild.”
? “A purist, eh?” Bolton asked. He wondered, silently, why the boy didn’t try delving solo in that case. He’d advance faster. “So? How’s the fight going?”
? “Almost over,” Veyra told him. “Grim’s taken out one of its legs, and that girl landed a nasty, lingering burn. Its right side is useless, so no weapon.”
? A minute later, she dismissed her Elemental Clone, checking her mana reserves. “Hot damn. Barely even a tenth of my mana. I’m good.”
? Bolton rolled his eyes, refusing to acknowledge her bragging. “Well, I take it that means they’ve made it to the second floor. Eighteen minutes left, and it’s a twenty-minute walk.”
? “Only for other people,” she retorted, heading for the door at a light jog. “Come on, Bolton. We don’t have all day!”
? He opened his mouth to retort, his face flushing, but she was already out. Grumbling what sounded like threats to the empty air, he took off after his Captain, offering a brief parting wave to the emissary. On the street outside, she was waiting for him with a broad grin on her face. Two members of The Golden Order were coming toward the dungeon, eyeing the two of them with suspicion. The emissary must have summoned them, he thought, offering a polite nod. Veyra merely waggled her fingers at the pair, offering them a mischievous grin and wink. The guards continued to glare at them until they were well out of sight.?
? “I get that we don’t have to respect these fops,” he said, catching up to her side. “But that doesn’t mean I like the idea of you tweaking their nose with every damn encounter.”
? Veyra laughed, the melodious sound of it bouncing off the nearby buildings. “Oh, please. A leaf tumbling across their paths would offend them! Let’s not waste time talking about them, if you please. I’d rather get this business with Damien over. If we’re fast enough, we might catch young Grim on his way out.”
