Arkasti had taken his time trekking through the Tundra. Bitter, cold winds hardly bothered him. Instead, when he was camped and huddled around raging bonfires, his thoughts were outside the dungeon, imagining the chaos happening elsewhere in Verdantallis. Never before would he have imagined he would be fighting with Zezog the Barbarian's sword against some of the most famous heroes in the whole world.

Snow drifted slowly from the sky. Dim gray light leaked from the clouds, showing the sun was still somewhere above. Arkasti took a drink from his mug, filling his belly with beer. He had been told once that it was foolish to bring a personal keg into the towers. Whoever had said that was likely dead while Arkasti was preparing for his fusion.

Throughout his whole life, he knew he would be Shard Hero and eventually fuse. Plenty of kids talked about it. His classmates in school would often play games imagining their future selves as heroes and the fusions they would have.

In his youth, Arkasti's imagination was limited. He thought of the strongest mobs that appeared in stories often told to children. Vampires, trolls, scaltari. Some monsters worked better in stories than others.

He finished his beer, filled the mug with snow, and held it close to the fire until the snow melted. A quick swish of the water was enough to clean the mug and calm the fire. Arkasti stood, stretched, shook his blanket clean of snow, and yawned. He packed everything up, enjoying the smell of smoke drifting through the air.

Tapoo finished his beer and offered the mug back to Arkasti. The lepus mob still sat with its overly long legs stretched out to the smoldering embers.

"Keep it," Arkasti said. It would disappear when the floor reset, but it made the little rabbit happy and it was one less thing for him to carry.

"Oh, thank you, sir." Tapoo jumped to his feet. Even standing as tall as he could, he was less than half the height of Arkasti. If one counted a lepus's ears, then they could add a foot or two.

Tapoo's family, or just the other lepus, were still gathered near the treeline, just outside the chapel. Many were too superstitious to wander from the chapel grounds. Arkasti had spent some time watching the rabbits worship. He had kept personal thoughts to himself. Even if they were just mobs, it was better to let them practice what made their lives, however complicated and brief, easier. They didn't need to know about the reality of the gods they worshiped.

"Is it time?" Hasta asked. The head priest hopped over upon seeing Arkasti approach.

"It is. Thank you for your hospitality." He took another moment to reorganize his bag, tighten the straps, and slip it back over his shoulders. Two buckles latched over his chest and one wrapped around like a belt over his belly to keep the pack secured, no matter what mess he found himself in. And it would be a mess.

The lepus all waved and bounced in the snow, calling out prayers and goodbyes.

Arkasti waved, then grabbed Zezog's sword and let the blade rest on his shoulder. The old, battered blade looked like it was about to crumble, but Zezog had no doubt it would stay together even as he chopped mobs in half.

He enjoyed the sound of snow crunching under his boots. By the time he passed the trees, he could see the glittering frozen stairs in the distance, the black void to the outside world, and the three floor bosses he had been waiting to fight.

The three bear warriors were legends among the Golden Bulls. Even the most competent heroes were mauled when faced with the three floor bosses.

Arkasti never would have imagined trying to fuse with any of the three the first time he had heard a story about the brutality of the bears.

They spotted him and immediately all perked up. The hunter drew its bowstring, the soldier brought out its absurdly big scutum shield and treetrunk club, and the berserker remained sitting. For now.

Arkasti stretched a little as he continued walking through the snow. When the first ice arrow nearly hit, he swung Zezog's blade. The sword vibrated from the impact.

"Here we go," Arkasti said. Two silver shards lifted from his shoulder, humming as they empowered his body. After leveling up so much while climbing the towers and training with Zezog and Chorsay, there was a whole host of abilities he had yet to perfect.

Now was the time.

Arkasti swung the massive sword while using Windblast. It sent a sharp blade of wind flying over the snow. He intended to knock the hunter off balance, but instead, it cut deep into the soldier's shield.

His attack turned the berserker's head. It climbed to its feet, icy skirt blowing in the bitter wind.

Beast against beast.

Another arrow flew. This one curved in the air, forcing Arkasti to draw his short blade and block at the last moment. The longer he took to close the gap, the more opportunities there were for him to make a mistake.

The berserker bear cocked its head. It could tell what was coming.

Arkasti grinned.

Primal Form.

Hair grew out of his skin in what was the worst, richest sensation he had ever encountered. Bones in his hands cracked as his palms widened, his fingers lengthened, and his nails grew into curved claws. Every tooth in his mouth sharpened. His nose widened, letting all kinds of subtle scents try to draw his attention.

Arkasti found himself hunched over, still holding both swords. An outside observer might have trouble distinguishing him from the bear bosses.

Another arrow.

Iron Skin.

Arkasti didn't flinch as the hunter's arrow smacked into his forehead. The impact still reverberated through his body. He used both hands, still gripping swords, to take a single four-legged step into a sprint before activating Bull Rush.

Arkasti flew across the opening before the hunter could prepare another arrow. The soldier took a step forward, putting the shield between himself and Arkasti.

Instead of evading or any sophisticated maneuvers, Arkasti crashed directly into the shield, throwing the soldier off balance. Arkasti rolled over and activated Hemorrhage on his short blade. He swung Zezog's sword around, catching the soldier's treetrunk club. The weapons clashed, and the legendary sword dug deep into the wood.

The berserker roared, flashing red, and charged. It smashed into the soldier more than Arkasti, but the impact ripped the club from the bear's hand, which pulled Zezog's sword from Arkasti.

With a quick, half-focused slash, Arkasti hit the hunter in the arm with the short blade. The hunter bear managed to use Hobbling Slash on an arrow to tear through Arkasti's hamstring. Before the hunter could follow up the attack, blood gushed from the small cut on its arm. So much blood flowed out that it dropped the bow and tried to stem the hemorrhaging wound.

A massive paw smacked into Arkasti's face, tossing him into the snow. Pain throbbed in his cut hamstring. Unfortunately, there was only one option. He had no time to drink a health potion, and even if he did, the bears wouldn't wait for his leg to heal. He needed to push through. He needed to fight.

There were a handful of different rage abilities available for berserkers. Different rages fit different scenarios. Some berserkers chose not to use rages at all to keep their wits about them. Arkasti sometimes wished he was one of those people, but his wits didn't win battles.

Perseverance did.

Unrestrained Rage.

No pain, no injuries, no thoughts could stop him from fighting. Unrestrained Rage became stronger the longer it was active. If it was active for too long, the berserker would just die. Their heart or brain would fail. Sometimes both.

One needed a moment of clarity to break Unrestrained Rage, unlike the others where they could be intentionally turned on or off.

Arkasti roared, louder and deeper than any of the bears could manage.

Since his mind immediately lost all sense of wellbeing, he activated Symbol of Carnage.

No reasonable berserker would use two transformation abilities at once because of the damage it did to the skin, muscles, and heart. But during the rage, Arkasti was far from reasonable. His roar became a deep, rumbling scream. The skin beneath his fur burned bright red. He grew to almost twice the size, now matching the bears.

The soldier had grabbed Arkasti's short blade after failing to pull its club free of Zezog's sword. The bear stood on two feet in a defensive stance behind its shield.

Meanwhile, the berserker was already charging again. It ran on all four legs and leapt, swinging its massive paw.

Arkasti stood and punched, putting no effort or thought into blocking or evading. The berserker's paw hit, breaking bone from the impact while its claws tore across Arkasti's face. Arkasti stood, fist extended. The berserker choked and clutched at its collapsed trachea.

Arkasti let out another roar then fell onto the berserker. The soldier slashed at Arkasti, cutting into his golden armor and tearing at all the exposed skin he could find. Arkasti, like the monster he was, tore into the berserker, ripping open its chest, snapping ribs, and consuming organs. He tore the heart free and ate it in a single bite. He finally looked up, blood pouring all over his body. The snow was soaked with blood from himself, the soldier, and the still-hemorrhaging hunter.

Arkasti caught another swing of the sword with a bare hand. He snapped the iron sword in half and threw the blade at the hunter. It didn't pierce, but the weakened bear was knocked over from the sudden impact.

The soldier charged with its scutum shield, attempting to smash it into Arkasti's face. He caught the shield, dug his claws into the wood, and tore it in half.

Arkasti threw half at the hunter, finally killing the weakened bear. When it was only the soldier left, Arkasti roared, ready to charge. It smacked him in the face with a paw, ratting his skull.

Arkasti stumbled, tripped over the mauled berserker, and spotted Tapoo, Hasta, and the other rabbits watching from the distant treeline. He blinked in a poor attempt to get blood from his eyes.

Unrestrained Rage vanished. With it, Arkasti felt such a sudden shock of horrible pain that he considered just dying. But people were counting on him. His life could mean something. It wasn't a game. He was part of something bigger.

Arkasti roared louder than ever before, pulling himself to his feet. He leapt at the soldier. His clawed thumbs dug deep into its eyes, popping the eyeballs as they crashed to the ground.

As they hit the snow, Arkasti started the fusion. Already, his willpower was at work just to keep him moving. His vision went white for the briefest moment before becoming a golden sky.

Arkasti stood in a barren landscape, nothing around. He took a few steps, feeling the ground crack and crumble to dirt beneath his bare feet. The sky was the color of the Golden Bulls. Of his brotherhood.

After Andres Orben attacked the Nimble Hogs, Arkasti had left.

Is that what he had really wanted to do?

The Golden Bulls were his family. The only family he had.

A thrum of energy filled the air. Arkasti tried activating his shards, though nothing changed.

Before him was a monstrous bull made entirely of metal. Of gold.

Arkasti had assumed a battle of wills would be like a mental armwrestle. Instead, he felt his heart ache. He had abandoned—

No.

He clenched his hands into fits. Arkasti never had and never would abandon anyone. No matter the circumstance, he would be there.

And right now, Chorsay, Zezog, Althowin, Owin, and the others needed his help. And after he helped them, he would do the only thing that made any sense.

He would kill Voolyn Eskitorra and become the leader of the Golden Bull Hero Company.

Arkasti waved the bull to approach. It dug a hoof into the ground, then charged. Its steps pulverized the ground and sent up a cloud of dirt and dust.

Arkasti didn't move. He was done avoiding. Instead of dodging or trying clever tricks, he caught the bull's head. They skidded across the barren landscape. Arkasti's feet tore through the ground, creating parallel furrows nearly a mile long before the bull slowed. As soon as he regained footing, Arkasti forced the creature's head into the dirt.

He wouldn't kill it. He only needed to subdue the beast. After all, it was his brother.

Only Voolyn Eskitorra needed to die.

The golden bull dissipated into dust and blew away. Arkasti took a deep breath, staring into the golden sky as all of his real pain flooded back into his body.

He snapped back in another flash of white. His first breath in the frigid air was brutally painful. Arkasti fell to his knees, splashing in a pool of blood that hadn't yet frozen.

"I don't know what happened, but you're alive!" Tapoo ran over. "The bears—"

"A potion," Arkasti said quietly as he worked to undo the straps holding his backpack. Tapoo unclipped two, allowing Arkasti to swing his backpack to the front. He immediately grabbed a health potion and drank.

All of his surface injuries had healed in the fusion, but his muscles were ravaged after using two transformations simultaneously. He took a deep breath and looked at his arms. Nothing looked different. He reached up and touched his face. No extra hair. No sharp teeth. No bear ears.

"Do I look like myself?" he asked.

"Who else would you look like?" Tapoo asked.

"A good question, my friend." Arkasti carefully stood, refastened his pack, and pulled Zezog's sword free. He took a moment to acknowledge his broken short blade. His two weapon fighting style required two weapons, but he was always open to adapting now that he only had the one sword.

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"Are you leaving?" Tapoo looked over his shoulder where all the other lepus waited.

"Not yet. I am starving, and I have enough for another round, if you're interested."

Tapoo held up the mug. "I still have it."

"You're a smart one." Arkasti slowly walked back to the chapel with the little rabbit at his side. "Do you think Hasta has any stories for us?"

"If he gets started, he won't stop!"

Arkasti smiled. "I will enjoy his stories."

***

Althowin forcefully reminded everyone of their assigned duties before leaving. She personally escorted Ernie, Katalin, Miya, and Sofia into one of the alchemy studios, and within a minute, something exploded inside.

Owin assumed it was Sofia's fault, but he didn't find out. Putting a wizard in a confined space seemed dangerous. Miya and Katalin were already bound to make things explode.

After she was done with the alchemists and Sofia, Althowin dragged Owin, Siora, and Potilia to her library, which was apparently hidden in its own building near the center of the compound. Owin had never seen the vast library, and Potilia nearly fainted as they entered.

"I keep getting told that you are basically an encyclopedia, so you are going to use these resources," Althowin said, gesturing to the library, "to help these two figure out their fusions. Owin is considering a horror."

"You told me—"

"Owin," she repeated, "is considering a horror. Siora is going to fuse with something to make her faster or something. I don't know, and frankly, I don't really care. You all figure this out. I will expect a detailed answer by the time I return."

Shade strolled into the library.

"Who invited that?" Althowin asked.

"How did you find us?" Owin asked.

Shade stopped, looked all around the library, then shrugged. "I had an itch."

"You usually get those checked by a mender," Althowin said. "If he's annoying, just kill him."

"I can just unsumm—"

"Murder him," Althowin said.

"I can do that," Siora said.

Shade put a hand to his chest and gasped.

"The magus is likely to fuse soon, yes?" Althowin was already walking to the door, talking over her shoulder.

"I think so," Owin said.

"Then you will need to leave shortly after I return. Keep these things moving. Our enemies are going to be busy doing the same. At this rate, I bet we'll have more fusions than any other year in history."

"How do you know?" Owin asked.

Althowin grabbed the door and pivoted on a heeled shoe. "I detonated a bomb in four famous heroes' faces, and the only way to heal severe injuries is fusion." She had pointed at her metal hand as she said it, which earned a frown from Owin.

"Does that mean—"

"Yes," she said. "I lost my hand and foot after fusion. It doesn't get easier." She wobbled the door back and forth for a second. "Alright, Miss Ennia, start your lesson."

Potilia had wandered off without Owin even realizing. She was squatted like some creature in front of a bookshelf with both arms full of old tomes. Her eyes widened upon hearing her name.

Althowin rolled her eyes and walked out, closing the door behind her.

"Does this mean Chorsay isn't saying goodbye?" Owin asked. He climbed into a wooden chair in the center of the library. There were some cushioned chairs hidden throughout the vast room, mostly at the end of aisles, but the only table was the round wooden one in the very center.

The library was built in a circle with twelve arms like a clock, each holding books focused on different topics. Each shelf was about twenty feet tall, and each one was absolutely overflowing with books. To Owin, it looked huge.

Until he noticed that there was at least one more floor above them, and maybe even one or two above that.

"I think Po might die," Siora said quietly. She smiled and started to chuckle until she turned and saw Owin looking at her. "Oh."

"We should let her look for a little bit. We can stop her in an hour or something." Owin tried to lean on the tabletop, but was too short.

Shade grabbed a few books, flipped through them, then brought them over and forced them underneath Owin. After stacking a few books, Owin was able to use the table properly.

"Thanks."

Shade sat down in his own chair, directly across from Siora. "Are you aware that Katalin and Potilia have both told us about you in the Subterranean Dungeon?"

"Um." Siora shifted in her chair. "Okay?"

"And it sounds like you were a great leader and really helpful."

"Oh."

Owin just sat quietly while Shade recounted a few specific things Katalin and Potilia had told them. He agreed with Shade, but he also had such a clear image of Siora on the fourth floor of the Great Forest. Back when she was still Void Nexus, before Artivan had given her a face full of scars. She was so arrogant. So aggressive.

The timid, confused hero sitting to his side wasn't the same person.

But how did people change so much?

"Owin," Shade said.

"What?"

"You shouldn't just stare at people."

He nodded. After a moment of both Shade and Siora now watching him, Owin hopped off the books and chair and wandered through the library until he found Potilia. She was on the second floor, halfway up a ladder.

"Po."

She screamed, dropped all of her books, and fell, crashing with a thud on the library floor.

"Uh." Owin took a step closer. "You're alive, right?"

Potilia rolled over, sat up, and hurriedly gathered her books. "What's going on?"

"We're all waiting on you."

Potilia swung her gaze back and forth. "Me?" She narrowed her eyes as she thought, then jumped to her feet. "Althowin will be so angry if I don't help you find a fusion!"

Before Owin could try to calm her down, she was already barreling through the library. She nearly fell down the stairs, somehow kept her stack of books steady, and landed in her chair with a crash.

Owin calmly walked down, climbed back onto his chair and the stack of books, and leaned his elbows on the tabletop. "Are all these books useful?"

Potilia set her stack beside her chair and furrowed her brow. "In what sense?"

"We . . . what?" Owin looked to Shade for help, but the skeleton had already somehow grabbed one of Potilia's books and was flipping through the pages.

"Wow. Whoa." He set it down and jabbed a skeletal finger against the page. "Is this . . . is this a hero and scaltari romance? Is this book sexy?" Shade leaned closer, narrowing his eye sockets. "They make books like this now?"

Potilia squeaked, grabbed the book from Shade, and slammed it closed. "Shut up!"

Siora leaned back and crossed her arms. She had a faint smile on her face. "Before you start reading whatever that is, why don't we do what Althowin wants?"

Potilia grumbled and leaned her whole upper body over the scaltari book. "If anyone says anything . . ."

Shade put his hands up helplessly.

Potilia took a deep breath, pulled the book off the tabletop, and grabbed a different one from her stack. "This is called Tower of Horrors. It has a good list of horrors and some stories about each of them. I don't think it has anything on secrets, but I know a lot of those, I think." After nobody protested, Potilia opened the book, flipped a few pages, then pointed at an illustration. "First alphabetically is Ansotorio in the Ocean."

"I've seen that. A fire worm thing," Owin said.

Potilia nodded excitedly. "Want to fuse with it?"

Owin shook his head quickly. "I need something that will help me more. Fire won't help me all the time."

"He gets hit a lot. Something that will help him get hit less," Shade said.

Potilia grunted and flipped through a few pages. She stopped on one, frowned, and flipped back near the beginning. "They're all so ugly."

"We already knew that." Owin leaned forward and tried to grab the book, but a stern look from Potilia made him back away.

"Are you set on this prazene thing?" She partially flipped to a page, paused, and flipped back.

"It was Althowin's idea." Owin looked at Shade, who nodded slowly. "But it is a good idea. It doesn't give me any weaknesses while it will give me some resistances. And horrific damage could be really helpful."

"Okay, okay, okay." Potilia's eyes flitted as she read through the page, then flicked back to the top. "Shade wants you to get hit less."

Shade pounded his hands on the table. "Yes!"

"What about this?" Potilia turned the book around and slid it into the middle of the table.

Owin, Siora, and Shade all leaned forward. An old pencil illustration was the only visual on the page. It depicted a skeleton half standing against a wall. Black vines clung to the brickwork and weaved through the skeleton.

"What is it?" Siora asked.

"Arenaris. It's in the Desert on . . ." Potilia moved her finger through the page, reading upside down, and stopped. "On the seventh floor. A common floor, which is good for fusions. Someone can protect your body and also help you recover. A fusion really knocks you out, from what I've read."

Owin looked at the line beneath Potilia's finger. For the first time while looking at words, he recognized something. "Desert Dungeon, seventh floor."

"Did you read that?" Shade asked.

"Po just said it," Owin said quietly and sat back down. "What's good about it?"

"Arenaris is the vines. Not the skeleton." Potilia made a face to Shade, then pointed back at the page. "It is a shapeshifting mob that can take whatever form it needs. It needs to take over a body to move, but it can change itself into shields, weapons, and armor. There are accounts of it becoming full plate armor and a spear at the same time. It reacts fast enough to do these things during a fight. A lot of people don't know about Arenaris not because it's in a secret, but because it's growing from a ruined building within a ruined city and just looks like dead vines from far away."

"What . . ." Owin leaned forward. "What would I look like if I fused with vines?"

Potilia shrugged. "I doubt it's ever been done. This would give you more defense, more options for attacking, and that horrific damage." She flipped through some pages, showing a floating ball of jelly, a frog and worm combination, and a few other hideous creatures. Baby Head appeared and everyone sounded grossed out simultaneously.

"Everything else is uglier," Owin said.

"If you can control those vines, that would make up for you not having abilities or spells. You can make your own abilities and spells with it," Siora said. Her smile was that of someone overcome by shyness. She looked entirely uncomfortable and was already blushing, which made her numerous face scars stand out more. "Sorry, just thinking."

"You're right," Owin said. "Thank you." He leaned forward and Potilia flipped back to Arenaris. "If you were going to fuse with a prazene, is that what you would choose?"

"Uh, I—" She sighed, calming down. "Yes."

"I think so too. Thanks, Po."

Potilia sat all the way back, slipped a little ribbon into the book, and closed it. "Now, we just have to decide what Siora will fuse with."

"We only have one shard, Po. Why are we deciding now?" Siora shook her head, then leaned on her elbows. "What are your ideas?"

"You and Owin had talked about speed, right? Soldiers are usually outmatched in speed by umbra, assassins, and hunters, which means they just have to rely on weapon handling skills and being able to withstand the usually weaker attacks of those classes. But an assassin also has passives to learn weapons as fast as soldiers, umbras can use magic and Power 7 spells, and hunters can attack from so far away that defense doesn't always matter."

Siora was scowling.

"Oh, sorry." Potilia started shuffling books around, looking for something specific.

Shade loudly scooted his chair over. The legs scraped on the wooden floor, making a horrible noise until he stopped directly at Owin's side. "She seems less nervous," Shade whispered.

And to Owin's surprise, it really was a whisper so quiet that Potilia wouldn't hear. Owin would've assumed Siora couldn't either, but soldiers had a passive listening ability, so she probably heard every word.

"She does better when she talks about things she knows. Encourage her," he whispered back.

"Do you already have an idea?" Shade asked.

"Well." Potilia brought a much bigger book onto the tabletop and flipped it open. She searched through a few pages before stopping. "In this account of a 5 Shard Hero who was famous about two hundred years ago, he overcame his weaknesses as a soldier by fusing with an elven hunter." She moved her finger through the story, then stopped at the end. "He also died as a 5 Shard Hero, specifically while going for his sixth. So, uh, I don't know. Maybe that says it wasn't actually a good idea."

"I don't want magic. My mana is low and I've never learned to manage it while fighting." She read through part of the page Potilia had open, then shrugged. "Hunter doesn't seem good. Even with decent dexterity, I don't want to carry and learn a bow. I'd learn quickly with Proficiency, but it's just one more thing to manage. Owin's right. I need speed specifically. How are you so fast?"

"I have a racial feat called Goblin Cunning. It makes me twice as fast as my dexterity normally would. So a mob with something similar would probably work. I assume you don't want to fuse with a goblin." Owin smiled.

Siora tried not to scowl, but that effort was clear on her face. "No. Uh, sorry."

"Something with a speed-focused racial feat?" Shade rested his arms on the table and placed his chin on his hands. "There are some fast bird things in the Sky."

Siora's scowl fully took over.

"Or not," Shade said quickly.

Siora touched her face. Her fingers ran over the countless scars criss-crossing her nose, mouth, and cheeks, all from Artvian. "I want to look human." She flinched a little, looking between Owin and Shade. "Sorry."

"I'm human," Shade said quickly. "Or, well. No." He shrugged. "I don't have feelings that can be hurt."

"You told me I hurt your feelings all the time," Owin said.

"I have feelings when you say things." Shade, still resting his head on the table, tried to grab the book from Potilia.

She pulled it away and clubbed Shade over the head with the heavy tome. He poofed into dust, which drifted down onto the now-empty chair.

"Oh!"

"It's fine." Owin brushed the dust away.

Summon the Withered Shade

Shade appeared at the side and immediately sat down again. "Did you decide anything?"

"No," Siora said slowly. She actually smiled a little. "Do you remember in the Ocean when you found us stuck behind the barricades?"

"All the grenades?" Shade asked. "How could I forget?"

Owin smiled at the thought. It was a terrifying situation at first. Nikoletta, Siora, Avani, and Codhyses had all been trapped while the grenadier fish constantly threw explosives. Without Shade running like a maniac, they would've never been able to move closer and eventually kill the fish.

"I was perfect bait. Perfect," he said. "One of the times, I think I also fell off that ramp though, and even in water that's a long fall."

They laughed and talked more about Shade's constant resummoning through the fifth floor. Owin purposely kept the conversation away from the boss and the stairs, and he assumed Siora did too. He was certain she never stopped thinking about that fight, just like how Owin never stopped thinking about the ones in the Great Forest.

"Here! Here!" Potilia shouted and slammed a book down. "An imp. A, uh, uh." She pulled the book back. "A Thrall Imp!"

"A what?" Siora leaned forward.

Owin practically climbed onto the table to try to see what was in the book.

Potilia finally set it down. There was no illustration inside. "A thrall imp is a mix of vampire types. Now, I know. Nobody likes vampires. It's a whole thing. We have to pretend they're not the sexiest mobs and just—" She cut herself off and sat all the way down. "I, uh."

"Just keep going, Po," Siora said. "We know vampires are sexy."

"Oh, do we," Shade said.

Owin tilted his head, looking at Shade.

"I can hate something and still recognize the absolute specimen before me," Shade said.

"Ew," Siora and Potilia said in unison.

"Okay, yeah. Poor wording," Shade said. He waved his hand and gestured back to the page. "Let's focus."

"A thrall imp," Potilia said, continuing down the page, "is a mutated human thrall that takes on the abilities of the vampiric imp. An imp is a small vampire that zips around. They're not that strong, but they are very fast. A thrall is a weak vampire or a human that works with vampires, depending on where you see it. In the Fortress, they are the weakest vampires." She skimmed the page and stopped at a section. "A thrall imp has speeds equal to a lesser vampire, but they don't have a weakness to sunlight. Unfortunately, you would have a weakness to luminous because all vampires have that. You would get resistance to undead and abyssal."

Siroa looked at Shade.

"I don't do undead." He held his hands up. "I don't even deal damage."

"Yes, you do," Owin said.

"Shh. I'm making her less scared."

Siora rolled her eyes. "I'll think about it." She scooted closer to Potilia and read some of the page. "You think this is the best?"

"Unless Althowin knows about a mob I don't that has specific speed abilities or passives, yeah. It would let you look the same while helping with speed. And I'm sure Ernie could make armor that would resist luminous to make up for that part."

Siora gently touched Potilia's shoulder. "Thank you."

Potilia's eyes darted to everyone at the table. "Can you all leave me alone so I can read now?"

"The smut?" Shade asked.

A book flew across the table, hitting Shade in the face. He poofed into dust immediately.

"Yeah, I'll give you some space." Owin hopped off the chair. "Do you need anything?"

"No." She was already holding a full stack. "I'll manage."

Siora watched Potilia scurry away with a wry smile. "She's odd all the time, isn't she?"

"That's pretty normal. Once she starts reading, we could probably walk right up and she wouldn't even notice." Owin left the library. Siora followed, and they shortly parted ways in the courtyard.

Summon the Withered Shade

"Was it a bad comment?" Shade asked.

"She obviously didn't like it."

"I'll apologize when she isn't reading." Shade took a step and stopped. "I guess I'll never apologize."

"Yeah. Now what?"

"Want to see what Zezog is doing?"

Owin nodded and gestured for Shade to lead.

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