A Shard Hero has entered the floor

One Shard Active

Kamer stopped midstep. It felt as if his heart had also stopped. Behind him, Ferah and Ekmel were also silent. Their conversation had abruptly ended upon receiving the notification.

They were strong, but they weren't Shard Hero strong. This seventh floor was already difficult. The waves of golems felt endless. Sandstone and clay debris already covered every surface. Everything had a thick coating of dust.

If it kept up, he was going to leave at the end of this floor.

If he made it to the end of the floor.

"What do we do?" Ekmel asked. The entertainer kept his drum cradled under one arm with his other hand flat on top of it. He could cast his spells quickly with the instrument, but the noise also attracted mobs. It was a trade off they needed to evaluate.

Ferah had a wand in each hand, ready to cast wizard spells. Her telekinetic magus class had helped keep the immediate area clean of golem debris, and her wands had helped pierce some of the armor, but she was running out of mana and wand charges.

And now, with the mobs twice as strong . . . his healing wouldn't be enough to keep them going.

They had found refuge in a ruined building that looked like it had once been a bank. The vault door was torn clean off and some indented footprints in the stone floor made it seem like a small army of golems had robbed the place.

If it had been a real bank, it was a long, long time ago. Since they were in a dungeon, it was likely it was never real. Everything would reset in a half hour. Luckily, there hadn't been any golems in the bank when they arrived, meaning the reset shouldn't put them in danger.

"We can wait it out," Kamer said. "We will set up camp in the vault."

Ekmel's fingers idly rubbed across the drum. "If they come, we'll be trapped."

"And if we run now we'll be slaughtered." Kamer gestured to the door with his shield. "Do you want to run? We don't know where the stairs are. The Artisan could be anywhere. It could be waiting for us. What do you want me to do?"

"It's fine," Ferah said. She placed her hand on Ekmel's shoulder. "It's fine. We brought enough supplies to camp an extra time. We can have some coffee and wait."

Ekmel nodded slowly. "Okay."

Kamer took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart. He walked away from the others toward the front door. The ornate wooden doors hung lopsided on the hinges, looking like a firm breeze might knock them over. He hoped pushing them shut wouldn't cause them to crumble.

The sun was beautiful throughout the Desert. It was intensely warm and bright, but the light made every floor shine unlike anything he had seen before. Even if the seventh floor was a desolate, abandoned city, it had an unmatched beauty.

He placed his shield on the ground, propped against the wall, and placed both hands against the door. With effort, he pushed the first door shut. It swung awkwardly, scraping against the stone floor as it moved. Despite its lopsided hanging, it locked into place.

Kamer walked to the next door. As soon as he started to move it, a dark form moved through the sunlight. Kamer froze. He turned his head slightly to see Ferah and Ekmel, who had both noticed and were waiting silently.

They could possibly handle a golem or two, but the mobs only ever attacked in numbers. Their best option was to wait, to let them pass on their patrol without noticing.

A stone fist punched through the closed door, sending massive splinters into the bank lobby. The thick stone hand grabbed the door and tore it off the last remaining hinge. In one smooth motion, the golem swung the door back and launched it deep into the desolate city.

Kamer dove for his shield. He grabbed it, slipped his arm through the leather straps, and rolled to the side as a golem fist smashed into the floor. The power of the strike sent Kamer stumbling back. He barely regained his footing as a stone fist flew at his face.

"Abyssal Branding!" Kamer shouted. Abyssal flames coated his shield just as the fist hit and sent him flying back into the back. The spell at least sent some of the power back into the golem, cracking its fist.

Kamer got back to his feet and backed up until he felt Ferah's hand steady him. "Be ready to run."

Ekmel's drum echoed in the abandoned bank. Energy soon rushed through Kamer's whole body, making him feel completely refreshed.

"Thank you," Kamer said.

"I'm low on mana," Ekmel said as his song stopped.

"We need that rest." Ferah opened her index. "They're the same level as before, but they have the shard buff."

One was already dangerous, and now there were three sandstone golems and one smaller clay golem pushing their way into the bank. A sandstone golem was the only one injured, and the cracking along its knuckles was hardly lethal.

Ferah pushed Kamer aside and thrust out a hand. A fireball shot from a wand at the same time as a Telekinetic Wave shot from her hand. The combination caused the fireball to spread out, hitting multiple golems at once.

The fire dissipated, showing all four golems advancing without any visible damage.

How foolish for them to think they could be Shard Heroes. Kamer had been so confident. They had been working so hard for so long. Surely, he had thought, they were ready to go for a shard. Why not?

Now, he saw why. Shard Heroes were a different breed. There were less than two hundred in the entire world for a reason. And most of those that had one shard would die before getting a second.

"I'm sorry," Kamer said.

"We will fight to the end," Ferah said confidently.

"Right." Ekmel started playing a song again.

A black ray erupted from a golem's chest. The mob took another step before the entire construct crumbled.

Kamer looked at the others, who looked just as bewildered.

The golems turned back toward the door. Before they could move farther, a vibrant violet slash appeared. Purple flames raged a moment later as the sunlight seemed to dim.

Everything was still, including Kamer's heart. What was he witnessing?

A figure appeared like it had simply stepped out of thin air. The man had styled blonde hair, a flawless black suit, and perfectly white gloves. His smirk was one of absolute confidence.

In other situations, he might look like a fine gentleman. But with his black eyes and glowing yellow irises, he looked like a complete monster. A secondary explosion of purple fire detonated behind the man, who didn't flinch in the slightest. The remaining golems all crumbled to lifeless rubble.

"Are you all unharmed?" the man asked.

He wasn't even holding a weapon. Surely, he had a whole squad of heroes out there.

The sunlight returned, bathing the man in golden light. Despite everything, he didn't even have a speck of dirt on his face.

"Who are you?" Kamer asked.

He bowed, sticking one arm out to the side. "Vondaire Faikel. I do apologize for raising the difficulty for you. I am just passing through." He adjusted his tie, which didn't actually need fixing. "Would you be interested in a trade? I am famished. This dungeon has taken longer than it should after I had a disagreement with my old boss on the second floor. If I could get a bite to eat, I'd be on my way and you all would be able to finish the floor in peace."

Ekmel just stood in shock. Kamer couldn't stop himself from just looking between his companions.

"What do you want to trade?" Ferah asked.

"I can provide gold." The man started forward.

Ferah looked annoyed. "We already have gold. Do you—"

Vondaire Faikel pulled out the single largest bag of gold Kamer had ever seen. The man disappeared mid step and reappeared directly in front of Ferah. She instinctively shot a Telekinetic Wave, which blew dust and rubble toward the front door without even moving a single hair on the man's head.

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Hero

Vondaire Faikel

Umbra

Nimble Hog Hero Company

"You hide your attributes," Kamer said.

"Like any smart umbra would." Vondaire placed the overflowing bag of gold into Ferah's arms. "Any delicacies or just dried food? I never know what to expect from you heroes."

"We . . . have . . . coffee," Ferah said slowly, staring into the massive bag of gold.

"Oh, good. I could use some caffeine."

"And oats," Ekmel said.

Vondaire put his gloved hand on the entertainer's shoulder. "It sounds wonderful. How long before that's ready?"

"Uh." Ferah put the gold down and set her backpack on the floor. "We could set up camp now." She looked to Kamer.

He just nodded. This hero wasn't normal, and he didn't know if he should be in awe or be absolutely terrified.

Kamer knelt and started digging through his backpack, pulling out the camping supplies. They had compacted bricks of fuel for fires that he needed to pull out from the bottom. As soon as it was out, the umbra took it from him and ignited it with seemingly nothing. Just one moment it was a brick, the next it was a raging campfire.

Vondaire set the flaming brick down without even a speck of soot on his white gloves.

"Would you be willing to escort us to the exit?" Kamer stared into the umbra's black eyes, ignoring the looks from Ekmel and Ferah.

Vondaire's face was flat. "No."

"Don't hero companies escort people?" Kamer hesitantly picked up the bag of gold. "You want to be paid?"

"No," Vondaire said again. "You have made it this far. Don't become cowards now. When I'm gone, the floor will return to normal and you can be on your way."

"But—"

Vondaire sat on the ground and somehow already had one of Ferah's mugs in his hand. She hadn't even removed them from her bag yet. When she started pulling them out, she looked up with complete confusion.

Vondaire smiled and held the mug patiently as they finished setting up the campfire.

Ekmel transferred water to a kettle and placed it directly into the fire. "You're not going to tell us anything about yourself, are you?" he asked.

"No," Vondaire said. "I am no storyteller. You will learn more eventually."

Eventually? Kamer fully sat on the stone floor. The bank's ceiling was high, and an old window sat at the top of the vaulted ceiling, covered in dust. A bit of sunlight shone through. They would need to discuss if they wanted to continue to the eighth floor or leave.

The ease in which Vondaire killed the golems was unbelievable. He had to be a 1 Shard Hero, and yet, the golems at double strength were like paper dolls to him.

Kamer finally noticed Vondaire watching him with his black, devilish eyes. "Who are the Nimble Hogs?"

Vondaire held out his mug exactly as the water started to steam. Ekmel picked up the kettle and poured steaming water into Vondaire's mug. Ferah unscrewed the top of her jar and carefully tapped the side, pouring some of the coffee powder into Vondaire's mug. Ekmel and Ferah prepared two other mugs right after.

"I ask myself that every day," Vondaire said. "A goblin, a demon, a giant." He formed a spectral knife in his hand and used it to stir his coffee. "A band of misfits, really."

Kamer frowned upon realizing they only had three mugs. Ferah gave him a look of apology as she mixed her own cup. Ekmel refused to even look him in the eye.

Whether he continued to the eighth floor or fled to return to Aksarusa, Vondaire Faikel was not a name he would soon forget.

***

Owin had yet to continue on the eighth floor. The next room had a lot of undead that he really didn't want to deal with. A twisted, desiccated creature stood in the back of what had once been a chapel. It stood like the leader of the undead congregation. With its hood up, most of its features were difficult to distinguish, but Owin still spotted sunken cheeks, exposed bone, and rotting flesh.

"Can a necromancer be undead?" he asked.

"It sounds a little like cannibalism, doesn't it?" Shade squinted his eye sockets like it would help him see deeper into the next room.

Owin had spotted two wights, the creature he thought was a necromancer, and two undead looking things with flesh. They didn't look as weak as the decayed mobs he had fought with Artivan, so he wasn't sure what exactly they were.

"Last time I fought a wight, it almost killed me. My guts were outside my body."

"I don't even have guts," Shade said.

"I know."

Shade reached over and poked Owin with the top of the Thunderstrike Maul. "We're strong enough for this. I wouldn't say being an assassin is my primary choice for this fight, but I think I can make it work. You've got the fiery sword and you're fast. Probably a lot faster than you were last time you fought a wight. And if I die . . ." Shade shrugged. "You summon me again and I'll keep fighting."

"Right."

Shade crouched at Owin's side. "One more floor and a boss fight, and we're out of here. Back to our friends and then off to explore something new. Right?"

"Right."

"One step closer to the Great Forest." Shade nudged him. "Want to go kill the previously dead?"

"Yeah, I guess." Owin's mana had regenerated to its current max. He had lost a lot through apparition damage, but what he had was enough to keep the Incandescent Blade burning for a significant time. His mana had increased so much in general that losing some wasn't as detrimental as it had once been.

He walked through the doors and flinched slightly as all the undead eyes turned to him. Both wights floated into the air, releasing horrible screams. The creature in the back had a scythe that flashed in the dim light as the mob climbed onto the altar. A growl rumbled through the ruined chapel.

"I don't like that," Shade said. "That's not what I sound like, is it?"

The closer creatures shambled forward. Their movement was jerky and unnatural. Their skin was a mottled mix of blue and green.

Fortress Mob

Putrefied Human

Level 64

"Do they smell putrid?" Shade asked.

Owin hadn't been paying attention to the smell, and now that Shade asked, he couldn't help but notice the rancid, sour smell of the chapel.

"Yeah," Owin whispered.

The putrified mobs split between the two of them. Owin ignited the sword and chopped as fast as possible, bisecting the mob with ease. As it fell in half, the section with the head continued moving, crawling toward Owin. A second chop through its skull was enough. Meanwhile, Shade had swept the legs out from under the other, then followed that up by smashing its head with the Thunderstrike Maul.

"Wow. I didn't realize we were literally the strongest people on Verdantallis." Shade picked up the hammer and tried to wipe off the chunks of flesh stuck to the top.

Owin calmed the flames. His mana would last a while, but he also knew the wights could be difficult to take down. He started forward, staring at the creature in the back.

Fortress Mob

Kashchei

The Deathless

Level 68

"It doesn't say a class, just a title," Owin said.

Black magic surrounded Kashchei like flames.

"It's a necromancer," Shade said. He stepped to the side and prepared the Thunderstrike Maul. "Can you manage the wights?"

Both ghostly women were drifting through the air, slowly moving toward them. Their long claws made Owin's face ache. He still had scars all over his body from the last time he had fought one.

"I can do it."

Smoke poofed around Shade as he cloaked.

"Okay," Owin muttered.

Both wights screamed and bolted for him. Fire climbed up the Incandescent Blade as he stepped onto a pew and leapt. The wooden bench shattered under the pressure as he spun and slashed in the air. More screaming echoed through the chapel.

Owin hit the ground smoothly. He pivoted, shifted his feet into a fighting stance and raised the sword once again. The wights were both cut in half, but their immaterial bodies flickered. Streams of black magic floated from Kashchei and looked as if they were stitching the wights back together.

Shade uncloaked as he swung the Thunderstrike Maul sideways. In its surprise, Kashchei was unable to react. The hammer smashed into its torso and sent it flying off the altar and into the back wall.

A blast of necromantic magic hit Shade, sending the skeleton flying through the air. Shade landed on a pew, breaking it, and tumbled a few times before hopping back to his feet.

Meanwhile, Owin slashed through a wight's arm and dashed to the side. He jumped and slashed again, cutting through the withered, mutilated legs of the other. As he expected, any damage he was causing was soon healed by the necromancer.

There was a chance he could do so much damage so quickly that Kashchei couldn't heal it, but the better approach would be to kill the necromancer first.

"Do what we did before!" Owin shouted.

The necromancer was back on its feet. The undead creature climbed back atop the altar and sent bursts of black magic into the wights. Not only was it healing them, their forms were becoming more material.

As Shade tried to stalk closer, Kashchei sent a similar burst of black magic at Shade. The skeleton dodged wildly and used the hammer to block a few bursts. Even in his efforts, he was still battered.

Shade vanished once again. Kashchei seemed to look for the skeleton for a moment before turning its full attention to the wights. Owin started to dodge more than attack. Their claws had already scored the skin of his arms. The few pieces of chitin that were left crumbled from the attacks. Each time the wights were hit by a burst of black magic, they attacked stronger. Luckily, their speed wasn't increasing.

Owin ducked under a wight swing, then slashed and leapt, swinging for the next.

Withered Swap placed him directly beside Kashchei.

Shade yelped as he flailed in the air and fell back to the chapel floor.

The necromancer turned black eyes to Owin. Its mouth opened, revealing green, rotting teeth and stank unlike anything Owin had smelled before. Before it could speak or use a spell, Owin twisted his hips and slashed with everything he had.

Kashchei moved its scythe in the way, catching the sword on the wooden shaft. The Incandescent Blade didn't even partially chop into it. Owin's entire swing was just stopped.

Shade got back on his feet just as the reconstituted putrefied humans leapt onto his back, pulling him back to the ground. The wights swarmed, and within a moment, dark gray dust poofed into the air.

Kashchei thrust out a rotting hand. Owin brought his metal hand in front of his face as black magic erupted from the mob. It sent Owin flying, but failed to do more serious damage. He hit the ground, bounced, and rolled to his feet.

He would need to thank Althowin for the prosthetic hand again when he got back.

"Invade," Kashchei said in a weak, breathy voice.

A swirl of black magic opened in the middle of the chapel. The wights and putrefied humans approached the magic as the center of black magic crackled and opened. A massive cockatrice walked out, followed by a handful of small warper specters.

Specters and undead were definitely dangerous, especially if they were all under the control of Kashchei. He needed Shade back to act as a distraction if nothing else.

Fortress Mob

Noble Cockatrice

Level 68

Both Kashchei and the cockatrice were level 68. With the shard buff, that put them close to, if not equal to, his own power. The warpers were only going to be disruptive, and the wight and putrefied humans were distractions and extra damage.

The whole scenario was clearly set to overwhelm the hero, but the god of the Fortress hadn't designed the floor specifically around Owin.

And Shade.

Owin took a deep breath. Flames raged on the Incandescent Blade. He would kill Kashchei, then kill the rest. If it took more than another minute, then he would summon Shade to help finish the fight.

"Easy," he whispered to himself.

The noble cockatrice screamed and shat a massive egg.

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