Great Forest Dungeon

Ninth Floor

Five Shards Active

Egnatia was eager to push through the ninth floor to move onto the boss of the Great Forest. The ninth floor was darker than the rest with such tall and ancient trees blocking the sunlight. Massive shapes moved in the long shadows of the wide, red trees.

Voolyn's anger continued boiling. His ogre half was less expressive while his human face contorted with constant fury. He clenched fists, punched monsters that grew too close, and managed to keep to himself to avoid outbursts.

It was embarrassing to witness. Egnatia knew she would've pulled a muscle or caused something to cramp and spasm if she had tried to restrain anger for such a long time. Not that she would ever be in that kind of situation. A hero of Voolyn's caliber should have a high level of both mental and physical control. At the moment, he had neither. Voolyn broke Nastya's dishes, snapped a few mob weapons in half, and punched the head clean off a scaltari merchant.

Nastya had quickly settled into her own fusion. She had become quieter upon fusing, and with Olena unable to truly speak and Voolyn having nothing but complaints and anger, their party had grown oddly silent. Egnatia wasn't going to suddenly become the party's leader or main source of entertainment. If the others weren't going to talk, neither was she. There was more than enough that she needed to figure out.

Voolyn led the way through the redwood forest. His ogre hand with its stone-like skin brushed against the bark, leaving furrows into the ancient, powerful trees.

Egnatia walked almost a dozen feet behind Voolyn, with Nastya guiding Olena even farther back. After his fusion, even despite the difference in shard level, Voolyn was handling the mobs with ease. That left Egnatia free to wander with her sword drawn, should anything happen, as her thoughts wandered to the world outside.

Veph had been so sure she could influence Althowin. She had assured Engatia over and over that the Three Heads were morons and their plan would fail. Egnatia took a look over her shoulder at the horrid face of Olena, then at Voolyn's ogre skin. It appeared Veph had been right, as Veph often was.

Even if they were idiots, the heroes she was traveling with were some of the most powerful people in the world. They just needed the right leader.

Was that Veph?

Or was it Egnatia?

She held her sword, more to admire the craftsmanship than to be ready for a battle. Voolyn would continue pummeling anything that moved. The sword gleamed in the faint light. Every inch was perfect. It was one of the only things that survived Althowin's attack, and it would be the thing to kill Althowin. Her sword. Marcus Lucan's sword.

"Up here," Nastya called.

Voolyn grumbled, climbed the last of a rocky hillside, and stopped. He leaned against the redwood and crossed his arms. Egnatia ignored the look from the hideous ogre and crept up to the ledge. Their current position looked over a scaltari village that was built on top of a swamp. Walkways and bridges were built around the trees, looping around the massive trunks until they reached buildings that hung from high branches.

"Do we need to clear it out?" Egnatia asked.

"Yes," Nastya said.

Voolyn cast a glance her way.

"Fine. What do we leave alive?"

"The Druid." Nastya guided Olena to a tree and let the blinded wizard lean against it.

"Can't she do something?"

It looked like Nastya tried to raise an eyebrow, but her crocodilian face hardly moved the same way it would have before her fusion.

Egnatia turned away and simply pretended she never asked the question. Voolyn watched her, then stepped off the ledge. He plummeted like a boulder and landed heavily at the edge of the scaltari village.

Lizards rushed him immediately. Each lizard was already a ninth floor mob, making them some of the strongest in the entire tower. With five shards active, the lizards were six times stronger than they normally would be. This caused them to move like the wind. The mobs didn't give Voolyn a chance to talk. His entrance had been enough that they assumed hostility. And they were right.

The ogre caught the first lizard by the throat and slammed it into the ground. Leaves drifted from the forest's canopy high above as the attack rumbled through the entire ninth floor. Scaltari turned to mist as Voolyn's fists cracked into one after another.

Egnatia watched with amusement, then took a step and jumped halfway across the village. She landed with grace on a wooden bridge and slashed, cutting a massive scaltari berserker in two. A warning flashed in her mind, causing Egnatia to duck and step aside, narrowly avoiding a club to the skull. She thrust a hand out, sending an Abyssal Blast right into a scaltari's stomach.

Egnatia tried not to roll her eyes at the swarm heading her way. She could use the shard, and having a party to get through the advanced difficulty was worth it for the training, but most of the journey hadn't been worth her time. She fused on the second floor. If she had come by herself, she could've left and been on her way. Instead, she was fighting lizards.

She parried and slashed, killing lizard after lizard, staining the wood beneath her feet with blood. It was routine. It was the same simplicity as any other day.

It was all a fucking waste of time.

Egnatia felt herself scream as she grabbed a scaltari by the face and blasted its head off with an Abyssal Blast right from her palm. She wasn't a berserker, but a rage raced through her veins. Flames of the Abyss erupted from her skin. Blue flames licked the wooden bridge and boiled the fragrant swamp water.

The scaltari swarm backed away, watching warily.

Voolyn charged in, flanking the swarm, and crushed lizards beneath his feet. The spot he had landed was covered in a thick layer of blood with no sign of any bridges or homes. Everything crushed, everything dead.

Within a minute, nearly fifty scaltari died. Their limbs and entrails were left scattered across the walkways or floating in the swamp waters.

Nastya led Olena through the far end of the village, heading toward Olena's fusion mob.

Egnatia only partially registered seeing the other heroes. Her knuckles hurt from gripping the sword with such fury. She shook her head, throwing bits of lizard guts from the sides of her helmet.

She needed to clear her head.

Luminous light flared from Nastya somewhere deeper in the village. Egnatia turned and felt the looming form of Voolyn approach close behind.

Voolyn grunted. "Pull your weight."

Dread Bind

Egnatia turned as fiery blue tendrils coiled around the massive man and dragged him to his knees. "I'm about to lose my fucking mind."

Voolyn's face changed. Even his ogre half managed to grimace.

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"Did I come along to be some fucking servant to you or the Three Heads? What would any of you be without Magna Regum?" She took a step closer and touched the tip of her sword to Voolyn's neck. "Did I reflect the damage from the 7 Shard Hero into you?" She leaned closer. "I did. And I'd do it again every time. Learn to fucking block, you useless ogre. At least your fusion matches your intelligence."

Voolyn moved his arms and tore through the tendrils. Blue embers drifted through the air as he stood, towering over her.

"You're not your father," he said, his voice a low growl.

Egnatia lifted her free hand and snapped. Her mind whirled, temporarily leaving her body to glide through a vast expanse. Her heart hammered as she flew through the Abyss. She realized the intense difficulty with summoning demons immediately. Gathering one's mind and controlling position within the Abyss, finding a specific demon or realm . . . All of it was overwhelming.

With her years of studying the Abyss, demons, magi, and familiars, she knew more than most worshipers. All for the purpose of killing the demons.

She calmed her mind, slowed her heartbeat, and started to recognize distinct features of the Abyss. Cheers rang from the Fighting Pits just below her consciousness. Egnatia dropped herself down, found a particularly rough-looking brawler, and opened the portal directly beneath him.

The demon emerged into the Great Forest with a grin. His fists were covered in bloody spiked gauntlets. Each spike was hooked and made for inflicting horrible pain. The brawler demon cast Egnatia a glance, nodded, then punched.

Voolyn met the fist and energy thundered through the ninth floor. Voolyn's next hit tore the demon in two.

Egnatia walked away. A summon demon that died stayed dead.

Summon Demon

Her portal opened right in the center of an arena in the Fighting Pits, allowing another brawler to emerge.

"What are you doing?" Voolyn asked, voice strained momentarily as he tore another demon in half.

Egnatia pushed the whispers of Nosolus's consciousness from her mind. She didn't need to worship the Malignant Spirit. She didn't need to revere the Abyss. She was going to use the powers to kill every human stupid enough to devote themselves to the Abyss. She was going to remind the world why Magna Regum was on top.

Voolyn's steps thundered on the wooden bridge. "You attack and flee?"

"Go do your duties. Protect Olena." Egnatia wiped her sword clean and sheathed it. "I'm going to the top."

"If you wait—"

Egnatia whirled back and met Voolyn's hard gaze. "I'm not waiting for you or anybody else. I might not have the shards to prove it, but you know and I know I'm the best here." Her brow lowered as she felt fury building in her chest again. "Don't compare me to my father."

Voolyn scowled.

More luminous light flared in the distance. Voolyn considered it for a long, silent moment, then bolted in that direction.

Egnatia smiled at the demon corpses, then headed toward the stairs to the tenth floor.

***

Owin, Shade, and Chorsay stood outside the cathedral with the specter bag lying on the ground between them. Chorsay had his arms folded over his chest, Shade had his hands on his hips, and Owin had his face buried in his hands.

"I can't do this again," he said.

"You make it sound like I'm such a burden," Shade said. "As far as I'm concerned, I think I've improved your life rather dramatically."

The bag burped.

"The bodily functions are, perhaps, a little much," Shade said.

"Are you going to name it?" Chorsay asked. He had been mostly silent as he observed the bag. His sudden voice made Owin lift his head.

"Name it? Name it what? I hardly even named Shade!"

"It's true," Shade said. "What a creative one that was. My title is the Withered Shade, so you really went adventurous with calling me Shade. Wow. What a change. What are you going to name this? Bag?"

"I'm not going to call it Bag."

A little black tendril lifted from the specter flesh. It pointed back at itself. "Specter."

"I'm not calling you Specter either." Owin gestured helplessly toward the bag. "I just wanted a way to carry stuff easier."

"You got it," Shade said.

"I know, but . . ." Owin gestured toward it again.

Chorsay clapped his hands together and smiled. "I know."

"You do?" Shade took a big step toward the old man. "I want to hear it first."

"Althowin has Basolia around her home. When you were in the Fortress, I had time to watch her work and satiate my curiosity. Basolia was originally Althowin's specter bag."

Owin scowled. "She told me it would grow. Not that it would get a personality."

"A basolia is a stringed instrument from Brukiya. Althowin used to play one in her youth." Chorsay scratched his jaw. "You don't play instruments."

"But when there is a theme, you have to follow the theme," Shade said.

"You don't have to. You can." Chorsay raised an eyebrow as he watched Owin.

A theme was fine. Owin had no problem naming it based on a theme. A stringed instrument would work. He didn't really care. A name was a name. He didn't pick his own. Shade's was basically just his title anyway. Properly naming something was probably better, but he had never done it before and he didn't know a single stringed instrument. Except a basolia, apparently.

"You look concerned," Chorsay said.

Shade cocked his head. "I was going to say constipated." He pointed. "You see how his brow is furrowed like when someone is clenching?"

"Why would they clench if they're constipated?" Chorsay asked. The old man immediately sighed and shook his head slowly. "How do you get me to talk about such things so easily?"

"Natural instinct," Shade said, unclear about which part he was answering.

"I don't know any instruments," Owin said.

"Piccolo," the bag said.

Chorsay slowly crouched, grimacing as he reached the lower point. "What knowledge do you have?"

The bag opened its mouth and expelled a large book. Chorsay's brow lowered as he grabbed it, ran a hand over the cover, and read the title.

"Where did you get an encyclopedia?" Chorsay asked.

"Basolia," the bag said.

Chorsay opened the cover and carefully flipped page after page. "You read this?"

"Aye."

The response made Chorsay look even more confused.

"Is a piccolo a stringed instrument?" Owin asked.

"No. A piccolo is a type of flute. Tell us what stringed instruments you read about." Chorsay set the open book on his knee and ran a finger over a page.

"Torban," the bag said. It spelled it out while Chorsay flipped to the correct page.

"Also from Brukiya." Chorsay gave Owin a look.

Owin stuck his hands out. "I'm not really following. What's happening?"

"Torban?" Chorsay asked.

"As a name?"

He nodded.

"Sure," Owin said. "Shade?"

"The bag gets to choose a name and I don't?" Shade waved his arms. "This bag is so important!"

"Do you want a different name?" Owin asked.

"Well. No." Shade waved his arms again. "Stop making me feel so flustered. Do you think I have answers for everything?"

"I do," Owin said. "You always give an answer. Even if someone is asking me a question, you usually say something too."

Shade pointed at him. "Right. Torkus is fine."

"Torban," the bag said.

"Sure. Same thing."

"Okay, Torban." Owin reached out and almost flinched as the bag moved. The shoulder strap lifted into the air and put itself right in Owin's palm. He lifted it up and slung it over his head. "Is this going to be weird?"

"Yes," Torban said.

"Are you usually going to be this talkative?" Owin positioned the bag in the same way as usual, but now it felt weird. He tried to fix it, but Torban moved itself back into the same spot.

"Hungry," the bag said.

"For what?"

"Materials." The bag opened its mouth.

Owin frowned as he looked at the absolute darkness within. "What do you mean?"

"Alchemy materials?" Shade asked. He tried to stick his hand inside the bag, but it quickly closed and kept him out.

"Yes," Torban whispered, keeping itself closed enough that Shade couldn't get inside.

"If I feed you, you'll be quiet?" Owin shoved Shade away. The skeleton was surprisingly difficult to move.

"Unless words are needed for protection."

When Owin looked at Chorsay, the old man shrugged.

"Okay. We need to find some alchemy materials first. I don't have anything on me. I guess you know that since you're the bag where I'd be keeping all that."

"Yes."

"Right." Owin spun in a slow circle, surveying the whole lehboa city. "Something made a lot of lehboa sick and others are missing. Right?"

Chorsay gave a single nod and kept his eyes on Owin. He wasn't going to help solve the mystery of Kisisu. He had made sure to make that obvious.

Owin didn't mind. It kind of reminded him of traveling with Artivan in a way. There was knowledge and experience there that simply wasn't being shared so Owin could learn on his own. That was fine. He would figure it out just fine.

"Torban said something about underground," Shade said.

"We're not going to listen to a bag." Owin waved them on, heading deeper into the city. "Follow me."

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