An Omen Appears

Vondaire stood in the Palace of the Storm King, enjoying the views and biding his time. Outside the grand windows raged a storm unlike anything Vondaire had ever seen. Lightning flashed so close to the glass that Vondaire expected it to arc straight to his heart. The thunder was a loud, deafening crash, but none of the palace shook.

With each flash, he could see farther into the evergrowing storm, catching the faintest glimpses of the thunder dragon, and even farther away, a small flapping bird.

Despite his best efforts, Vondaire was early. Not terribly, at least.

He ate an apple, suppressing a shiver with each boom of thunder. It had held incredibly well in his pocket with only slight blemishes. He ate around the bruises and stared into the distance until only the core remained. A quick cast of Hone on the apple remains coated them in purple fire.

Vondaire yawned and tossed the apple core over his shoulder. The incoming air elemental was too focused on strangling or asphyxiating Vondaire to notice. The core thumped against its immaterial head, hitting like a knife. The air elemental wobbled, briefly condensing into a material creature.

Vondaire pivoted and punched, striking the air elemental in the equivalent of a nose. A ghostblade formed in his other hand and slashed across the elemental's torso before it lost form again. With the next crash of thunder, the elemental's remains blew away down the corridor.

Vondaire held his hands behind his back and faced the window once again. The Storm King flew close to the window, causing the entire palace to quake. For a sixth floor boss, the Storm King was quite the intimidating creature.

What did a dragon need a palace for?

Vondaire took out a small flask of water, drank some, and slipped it back into his pocket. His patience was unlike any others. He had waited for the goblin and Maimed Magus all through the Ocean. He had waited his entire life to achieve something. He would wait as long as necessary.

Vondaire locked his hands behind his back again and stared into the ever-raging storm. It was ironic, to an extent, to be surrounded by impenetrable walls and a veil of the Storm King's, well, storm. Vondaire had been isolated from those who had become his comrades of late. Without the list of Shard Heroes, he wouldn't assume any of them lived. Yet, the list said otherwise.

Where Owin and the Maimed Magus had gone was a mystery. They finished the Fortress, which was a relief. Were they taking time off? Were they being pursued by the Three Heads? Or Two Heads since Chorsay had cut Isaak in half.

Vondaire let the slightest smile touch his lips.

Omen

Phoenix

Level —

"You've arrived," Vondaire said calmly.

The Phoenix Omen stood as a bird, fiery wings outstretched. Its long neck craned and eyes of pure fire watched with fascination. "A mortal waits for me. Amusing." Within the next three steps, Phoenix transformed from a grand bird to a lithe man with feathered wings still attached to his arms and well-placed fiery feathers draped over his body to hide anything obscene. His bird head was the one thing that didn't change.

"Vondaire Faikel," he said with a slight, respectful bow.

"I hadn't asked," Phoenix said, coming to a stop about thirty feet from Vondaire. That distance was nothing at his 2 Shard level. The Phoenix could be even stronger, and he hoped it would be. In fact, a prolonged battle would likely bring out more of the Phoenix's power before any fusing began.

"You were going to," Vondaire said.

"Are you familiar with the Omens?" Phoenix took a slight step forward, landing only on his toes and the ball of his foot like a dancer. Or, more likely, a bird.

"I've done some reading." Vondaire used a gloved hand to smooth back some hair, tucking it behind his ear. A haircut could not come soon enough.

"A foolish, arrogant mortal." Phoenix stuck his arms out. Fiery feathers glowed bright, twinkling like floating embers.

"I've been called worse." Vondaire kept one hand behind his back and extended the other, waving toward himself. "Come on, then. Show me what's so intimidating about the mighty Phoenix."

The Phoenix Omen burst forward with such power that the entire palace tilted, knocked off balance. Vondaire formed a ghostblade, cast Hone, and blocked the massive sword of pure fire.

Going into a fight against a stronger opponent who used elemental damage, which was the counter to his apparition style, proved to be a challenge in many different ways. And still, Vondaire didn't break a sweat. He pushed the fire blade aside, and teleported behind the Phoenix.

He couldn't kill it or allow it to flee.

It was all a game. A matter of timing.

Vondaire lifted his arms and cast Ghostcloak. The spell only truly blocked luminous or abyssal damage, but the shroud of darkness let Vondaire easily Spectral Step to the other side.

It was times like this where he regretted not carrying a true weapon. It looked better and hopefully more intimidating when he always arrived unarmed.

Vondaire stepped close and hit Phoenix right under the sternum with an uppercut. If the Omen had remained in its true form, he wouldn't have known exactly where to punch. Humans were easy.

Burning claws caught Vondaire's neck, just under his ear, and tore across his face. There was no blood as the searing claws burned the gashes closed.

Vondaire didn't flinch. Instead, he formed two spectral kunai and slashed the Phoenix before ducking and stepping out of the way of another series of attacks. It took every bit of his speed to stay ahead of the Phoenix. At the moment, the Omen was still on at a 2 Shard level. As long as they remained the same, Vondaire would win, even if he made mistakes.

Two new ghostblades formed in his hand. Each attack would cause it to burn away. The Phoenix was nearly pure elemental fire energy. It still had mana, and that mana could be burned away. The only variable was if Vondaire could manage his mana as he battled. If he ran out, he died.

The Storm King flew by, watching with shining blue eyes. Lightning struck the massive dragon and caused its eyes to glow brighter. As soon as another bolt of lightning flashed, Vondaire teleported, using the light to distract the Omen.

Around, and around, and around.

Spectral Step to Teleport to dodge, dodge, Spectral Step.

Phoenix changed tactics, switched up combos, summoned weapons and blasted with unbearable flames.

And none of it touched Vondaire. Apart from the one attack that scored blistering scars across his face, he was moving perfectly.

As he teleported away, Phoenix stopped pursuing. The Omen turned to face him. "Vondaire Faikel," Phoenix said. "I will hunt others with your name."

Vondaire tossed a kunai into the air and caught it by the ring, spinning the knife around his finger. "There are no others with my name. I'm one of a kind. We've got that in common." He used Spectral Step and fully missed his next swing.

A tremor passed through the sixth floor, even halting the storm for a moment.

Vondaire's index wouldn't say anything, but he could tell that the Phoenix just broke the dungeon's rules and forced itself into a 3 Shard level.

As intended.

"Then your kind will be extinct."

Vondaire smirked. "Almost a clever thing to say."

A fire sword formed in Phoenix's hand. This one was much denser than before, almost looking like a true steel weapon. Something with that much power, especially elemental, would easily cut through a spectral kunai.

Vondaire had practiced dodging his entire life.

He ducked, leaned, pivoted, side-stepped, and teleported, all while forming kunai and slashing at the Omen.

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Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and a fiery blade cut through Vondaire's jacket and through his abdomen. Searing pain nearly made him double over. Fire and blood burned inside. His stomach leaked, draining into his body.

He was going to die.

Vondaire used Spectral Step to gain distance and pulled a health potion from his jacket. When he lifted it to his lips, he realized it was only the neck of the bottle. Phoenix stepped on broken glass that melted beneath its feet.

"Almost enough to impress me." The floating palace lurched as Phoenix pushed off.

It was time to be creative.

Vondaire gritted his teeth, pulled his jacket off, and cast Multiply. The Power 6 spell caused the enchanted jacket to shrivel into a ball. Clones formed around the palace corridor just as Phoenix reached him and cut Vondaire in half.

Twenty nine Vondaires formed ghostblades. Twenty nine Vondaires were dying.

He couldn't help but scowl upon seeing himself without a jacket. It looked unprofessional.

Phoenix straightened. Fiery feathers all over his body glowed. "Your move, umbra."

Every copy of Vondaire moved. Five copies teleported close, hitting the Phoenix with kunai before using Spectral Step to get out or being cut in half. Having so many bodies to control and so many perspectives to move slowed Vondaire for approximately five seconds. That delay was enough for Phoenix to kill ten Vondaires.

Cutting the number down and having time to adjust was all Vondaire needed. A rhythm formed as copies teleported in and out, died and filled in spaces. Each copy moved as he normally would, with the same lithe agility and grace. Every movement he had spent years training. Every slice and stab he had mastered. Every single thing he had perfected.

The Phoenix thrust both hands out, sending a ring of fire that quickly expanded.

Every Vondaire, the fifteen that remained, easily dodged.

Storm clouds outside the massive window combusted. The Storm King flew toward them as the Phoenix's power grew, causing fire to cascade through the storm. What had been lightning was now twisting, whipping fiery winds.

"Four shards," one Vondaire said. "Desperate, are we?"

"I will remember your name," Phoenix said. Smoke billowed off Phoenix's skin.

"Out of respect?"

"No." Phoenix moved twice as fast as before.

Vondaire sacrificed a copy to get three knives in the Phoenix's back. The Omen spun with a sword of solid fire and cut all three copies.

Vondaire knew he could've dodged that, but the pain in his stomach was growing. Acid and fire mixing and ravaging his other organs. He had minutes at most.

***

Owin walked into the biggest tent and looked around.

"Is this a shop?" Owin asked.

"Yes, little one," a hobgoblin said with great joy. "Do you wish to purchase something? Do you have any money?" The hobgoblin cupped a hand near its mouth. "To be honest, we don't pay our goblins, so are you a thief or did you find treasure while digging?"

"Neither. I'm the strongest goblin you've ever met. Do you have buff potions?"

The hobgoblin lowered its brow. "Strongest goblin? So . . . you're as strong as a human child?"

Owin walked over, climbed on a box, and waved the hobgoblin over. "Want to see how strong I am?"

The hobgoblin shopkeeper puffed its chest out and stood just in front of Owin. "Show me this childlike strength."

The Darkblade and Butcher watched from the tent's entrance. Owin knew they didn't actually believe he was strong. Not yet. They would shortly.

Owin shifted his stance, just like Suta taught him. He formed both hands into fists, brought his metal hand back, and punched. The box broke beneath him, so Owin fell unceremoniously. By falling, he missed the visual of the hobgoblin flipping end over end until it passed through the grate spewing necromantic magic.

Only a skeleton exited the other side, and it was swarmed by goblins long before it could stand.

Owin sat up and looked around. "Where'd the shopkeeper go?"

"Dead," the Darkblade said.

"Oh. Oops." Owin shrugged and started digging through the items on display. He put a few health and shield potions into his bag, which actually opened wide.

Summon the Withered Shade

"What are we doing? Where are we? Who am I?" Shade spun his head all the way around, looking at everything. "Are we robbing a shop?"

"I just killed the shopkeeper." Owin picked up a sword. It was just a steel sword at journeyman quality. Something like that would break from one or two swings. He needed unique items that wouldn't shatter from his strength.

"Ah." Shade crouched by the Darkblade. "Is it weird seeing a better version of yourself?"

"What?"

Shade shrugged, stood, and leaned his elbow on Butcher, who looked too scared to move away. "Who is this other hobgoblin?"

Butcher gestured.

Owin continued pulling things off the shelves, but none of it was worth his time. His bag could fit more, but it was picky and he really wasn't sure how much it could hold. Filling it with potentially useful things wasn't a good idea. Only things of actual value.

"What's in the other tents?" Owin asked.

"Goblins or hobgoblins," the Darkblade said.

"Is it just sleeping space?" Owin asked.

"Most people would call those quarters or houses or livable areas, but sure, sleeping space works too," Shade said. He took his arm off Butcher and strode outside. "Greetings!"

An arrow pinged off his skull.

"Wait!" Butcher ran out, waving his arms wildly.

"What's happening?" Owin grabbed a few coins and dropped them in the bag.

"Undead are enemies," the Darkblade said, gesturing to the black smoke.

Owin walked past Butcher as the hobgoblin tried to explain who Shade was. The others all kept arrows drawn, spells ready, and whatever other combat preparations they could make.

"Hey!" Owin shouted. His voice carried more than he expected. "That's my skeleton. His name is Shade and he's not one of the undead attacking you. Look at his scarf and vest. It should be easy to see the difference."

Owin made the mistake of looking back where Shade was posing. One hand on his hip, the other spread out over his face.

"Fashionable," Shade said.

"Focus," Owin said quietly.

Shade dropped his arms. "I'm a fun skeleton. Not like—"

Before he could continue a wight reached a clawed hand through the grate. Its scream was familiar and made Owin clench his jaw. The goblins all chopped, stabbed, and swore until the wight dropped away. One goblin fell away with necromantic burns over its face.

Owin marched right up. "Open the grate."

The nearest hobgoblin sneered. "Who ain't you?"

"What?" Owin reached for the bag. "Isotelus." The bag spit out the Incandescent Blade instead. As much as he wanted to put the sword away and get the correct one, arguing with a bag in front of all the goblins and hobgoblins would only make him look insane. Or weak. Or whatever was the opposite of what these creatures wanted.

"Captain Magnan?" the hobgoblin asked. He suddenly saluted, nearly stabbing himself in the face. "You look different."

Owin kept his face as flat as possible. He quickly looked over the sword's description again.

The Incandescent Blade of Captain Magnan

Unique Master Magical Item

Captain Lyra Magnan once sieged the lehboa city of Amnopis. At night, when Prouvaria grew cold, the lehboa could see the Incandescent Blade shining as a constant reminder of their enemy just beyond the walls. Captain Magnan waited until the lehboa were starving, then scaled the walls and slaughtered every living creature inside Amnopis.

The Incandescent Blade uses the wielder's mana to ignite. The superheated blade can cut through any normal substance.

Note: Fire will go out upon loss of mana

Note: Fire will go out upon contact with too much water

"Yes," Owin said.

Shade walked up, nodded, and gave a quick, casual salute. "Captain."

"This is my assistant. Sha—" Owin frowned. "Sham."

Shade crouched and leaned close. "I don't think I needed a different name, and also, we should work on your improvisation skills. You had so many other options. Sham? Really?"

"I didn't want to call you Deniz."

Shade saluted again. "Smart thinking, Captain."

Owin pointed with the Incandescent Blade. "Open the grate."

The hobgoblin leader took a step toward the grate and looked down. "There'd be undead in there."

"That's the point. Why are you just standing around the necromantic smoke? It will kill you if you touch it. There's a necromancer somewhere. Go kill it and the smoke and undead stop." Owin gestured again. "I'll go kill it."

"I don't want to be that guy," Shade said, "but we could also just walk to the end of the floor. We want to be on the third floor when Chorsay gets there, right?"

Owin looked over the pit the goblins had dug to the last building. It was a ruin, but of a different design and not quite in as poor of shape. It was the most obvious place for the stairs, which meant the pit and the necromancer were likely tied to the secret.

"But we need to find your bones."

Shade stood tall. "Open the grate!"

On the hobgoblin's command, all the goblins shoved their weapons under the grate and attempted to pry it up. Owin watched for about a minute before walking over and reached his metal hand into the black smoke. He grabbed the grate, planted his feet wide, and pulled straight up. Instead of the metal grate ripping out, Owin pulled the entire stone block up. Loose sand fell into the hole.

"Now . . ." Shade walked over and stuck his head in the smoke. "How are you planning on getting down?"

Owin leaned over, looking into the pit without touching the necromantic magic. "Oh."

"Why don't we check out the goblin moat over here first. Or channel? A goblin land fixture? A land mass? A goblin mass?" Shade gestured helplessly.

"I think we can just call it a pit or channel, Shade."

"A goblin pit?" The skeleton shook his head. "Sounds too much like armpit, and you know how I feel about that." Shade gestured to the tent entrance, where the quest hobgoblin now stood.

"I should probably look at the quest, shouldn't I?"

"It feels relevant," Shade said.

Owin walked over to the hobgoblin and focused on the quest.

"It's required," Owin said.

"Oh, goody. What do we need to do?" Shade asked.

"Retrieve an artifact." Owin looked over his shoulder. "It's down there too, isn't it?"

"We are hunting for the lost lehboa artifact," the hobgoblin said. "You killed the hobgoblin that could've sold you a shovel, so . . ." The hobgoblin gestured helplessly. "Use your hands."

"You don't seem upset about me killing him."

"I'm still alive." The hobgoblin pointed to the necromantic smoke. "There must be something powerful protecting the artifact."

"Yeah, I got that." Owin turned and walked back. As soon as he got close, Shade stepped off the ledge, falling helplessly to the lower section where goblins still dug into the sand and dirt.

Owin prepared to follow, but heard footsteps behind him. Butcher and the Darkblade were just a step behind, clearly intending to follow.

"You know, you can do other things," Owin said.

The Darkblade looked genuinely confused.

"We follow the strong," Butcher said.

"Fine. Keep up." Owin jumped off and landed directly on top of Shade.

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