The Pinnacle Warrior

The journey back to the surface didn’t take long, given that they were still on the first floor of the Dungeon branch and hadn’t gone more than a handful of kilometers away from the doorway. Pairing that with the fact that they’d cleared out every monster between where they were now and the entrance, the journey went very quickly, even without Voice of Liberation hastening their journey. There was nothing to slow their advance, and they hurried along now that their decision had been made to see if there was more information they could find above.

“If we don’t get better equipment,” Skandr asked, “will we have any trouble with being able to finish this assignment?”

Astrid shrugged and looked among the rest of the party. “My hammer needs some attention, but it should be fine. Felix’s axe is useful, but not absolutely needed. In the end, if we can only get one thing, it would be a single weapon for Muti. Even if it’s just an even tougher Iron tier blade, or, ideally, a Steel tier one, we’ll be fine. She’s the one who’s most impacted by this. Any thoughts, Muti?”

“You are correct,” Muti nodded. “My weapons are only being held together by the mana with which I strengthen them. If I used less of my resources, they would be chipping and shattering.“

“Which is, of course, not the best,” Benedict said. 

“To put it lightly,” Skandr grunted. “If that’s what she can do when she’s fighting to keep her tools together, I’d love to see what she’s capable of once she has weapons that match her caliber again. But again, I ask the real question: how hard will it be do this if we don’t get replacement equipment?”

“Hard. Doable though.Second priority after that,“ Astrid continued as that particular subject was left behind, “is probably my hammer. The haft can be repaired and will be fine, but I’m doing the same thing that Muti is, and I have to spend more of my resources than I need to to keep the hammer from snapping down the middle. That additional expenditure is less of a concern for me, because I have so much opportunity to recover, but it would be nice to have a hammer that we didn’t buy in Bronze.”

“Yeah,” Skandr agreed. “The stuff you’ve got just isn’t built for extended use at your attributes, to say nothing of what happens under the duress of Body Surge.”

“From there, I’d say that we just want to go for a complete replacement of all equipment, so long as we can find a Steel tier equivalent,” Felix said, surprising Astrid. “My axe is definitely falling behind, but it’s not important enough to the party to require being the next thing to be replaced. I doubt it will do much against the dragon when we get there, but I don’t need it to, just to do what it is now.”

The party continued talking about different options as they walked forward, and it wasn’t long before they were all on the surface. Just as soon as Astrid stepped into the light of day, a root stretched out and wrapped around her ankle.

It is impossible for you to have completed the assignment so quickly. Is it beyond you?

That old companion of hers, the anger, reared its ugly head at that. She knew it was a reasonable question, but the doubt that it communicated in her and her party’s competence reduced Astrid to having to force herself to calm for a moment. Before she could say anything in response, the Grove spoke in her mind once again.

What have I done that is of such offense to you?

Their tone, ordinarily, so even and unconcerned, bore a trace of caution, and perhaps displeasure. As a whole, the Verdant Walkers weren’t a particularly volatile people, but this one’s response to the situation didn’t make any sense to Astrid.

“I’m not offended,” she protested.

Then from whence comes your rage? Do not attempt deceit, I feel your mind.

Astrid‘s mind flicked through a dozen possibilities all at once, the anger she had been fighting to tame disappearing under the revelation of the other person‘s ability to apparently read her mind. A thought suddenly occurred to her, and she asked, “Whenever one of your people is touching me with your roots, you don’t need me to speak in response, do you?”

No. The contact allows for a better understanding of surface thoughts. Speaking is better for your minds and how you communicate, but it is not necessary for us as our minds are very different from yours. Now, why were you angry?

Astrid took a deep breath, embarrassed at having to explain her pettiness. “I get angry too easily, I always have. In this case, I got angry because your question felt like it was putting my abilities in doubt.”

There is doubt in your ability to eradicate monsters higher level than you. You left the branch more quickly than expected, thus, the most reasonable answer to why that would be would be because you are incapable of completing the request as it was given to you.

Knowing why they were asking this question, Astrid, fortunately didn’t feel nearly as much anger as before, and she schooled her emotions. “It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense when you ask it that way, does it? I don’t think it really matters to explain in depth, it’s just stupid pride on my part. Because I’m prideful, I get angry about dumb things sometimes. 

“And to answer your question while we’re here, we wanted to know if there was somewhere we might be able to upgrade some of our equipment. Those of us who use weapons have had the same since the beginning of Iron tier, and the wyverns are Steel as well as a strong creature for their levels. Their defenses combined with our own attributes growing since we evolved to Iron are just making for the weapons to lose some of their efficiency.”

So you need to strengthen your branches that they will better bear your boughs, the Walker said. It is easy to forget that those who do not have a Grove to cover their weaknesses so frequently must find external assistance.

Instead of continuing to ask more questions, though Astrid wondered just how old this particular Verdant Walker was, considering the way they expressed themselves, she asked again, “Is there any way or a place for us to purchase or trade for new equipment?”

There is a settlement. I will give you directions, there you may barter for what you need. After you find this equipment, will you be capable of completing your assignment?

“We could complete it now,“ Astrid answered, feeling less angry and more indignant at this point, “but if we can buy even a single piece of equipment that we are looking for, our efficiency will be much higher than what we can manage now. We’ll be able to better complete our task and keep ourselves safer if we’re able to update our equipment.”

The Grove Warden seemed to accept that as an answer and provided Astrid with directions to a place maybe 40 kilometers away from their current location, back down the mountain. She gave her thanks to the creature and turned to her party. The root retreated from her ankle as she did so, and she looked at the rest of the Wanderers.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lead on maybe getting some new equipment?” Skandr asked.

“I’ve got somewhere to start looking at at least,” Astrid answered. “Apparently there’s a settlement to check out that might have what we are looking for, which is what I’d like to do next. Any thoughts on that?”

“A settlement? What are we doing around here for? How far? How many people live there? Is there an inn to stay in? A bath?” Benedict jumped in, his lips flapping faster than could be understood by someone of a lower tier.

“All I know is how to get there,” Astrid attempted to shut him up. “It should take us less than an hour to get there, so if there’s no complaints or disagreements, let’s get moving.”

Nobody else objected to that, and though none were as visibly excited as Benedict, there were plenty of excited looks to be had. In truth, Astrid was just as excited as the rest, and the idea of sleeping in a bed, and maybe finding some good equipment, had her nearly bouncing in excitement. Without any further ado, she set off, Benedict’s Voice of Liberation carrying the party towards their goal.

The forest they traveled through did thin out somewhat as they came down from the mountain, though it still was a nearly impenetrable wall wherever they looked. Where their journey took them this time was along a narrow path barely broad enough to fit Astrid‘s shoulders. It appeared maybe a dozen kilometers down the path to this Dungeon branch, the entrance to the branching path coming almost as a surprise as they retraced their steps. Unlike the first path, this one was a straight line that cut like a scar through the deep forest and towards their destination. In fact, to Astrid’s surprise, there were a couple places where there was evidence of trees that had been cut down.

“Is this an unofficial mission that they’ve given us?” Skandr asked, noticing the same things and possibly more that Astrid had. “Like, some population of loggers strong enough to keep out the Verdant Walkers have set up and they want us to infiltrate?”

“I don’t think that the discomfort of walking around would keep the highest tier, strongest Verdant Walkers from walking up to a logging settlement and destroying it,” Astrid shook her head. “Maybe I’m wrong, but there were representatives from the Verdant Walkers in every tier up to Arcanite in the Wandering Trials. There’s no way that we would be able to solve something that they couldn’t simply because we’re not made out of wood.”

“It may be that what was cut down was to be used in service of something else,” Muti shrugged. “Wood is a valuable resource, and it has been given freely to us in the past, though only sparingly. Could they be gifts given to other travelers?”

“I doubt it,” Skandr said. “These have been cut down to maintain this trail, which seems to be pretty well traveled.”

“Sometimes some things just hurt other things with how they’re growing,” Benedict said. “Sometimes there’s a weed growing in a field, sometimes it’s an unhealthy tree that’s shading sprouts that could be healthier if they had more sunlight, sometimes it’s vines that are choking the life out of everything else. Forests take care of themselves, but I’d imagine that if you have somebody with a pretty high tier Class, they can make things thrive a whole lot more than nature by herself can. Plus, it might just be that the Verdant Walkers realize that it’s alright if you cut down a couple dozen, or even a couple hundred trees in a forest that’s the size of three other nations.”

“Maybe,” Skandr said, his voice sounding unconvinced. “Why would they have been so firm about how little we could cut and disturb on our journeys if that’s what they’re thinking though? Could have allowed us to do what they needed to make the forest healthy.”

“I’m sure they supervised the construction of the settlement, they knew what was happening and could stop anything they disagreed with from happening before it got too far. Since we’re traveling alone through the forest, though, they give us the strictest rules because there’s nobody there to tell us which things are exceptions in which things aren’t. Easier to give a strict rule to people who have no supervision than lenient ones to people who can be corrected before they do real damage. That’s why we’ve cleared out patches of mana-tainted forest when we couldn’t before: we’re getting instructions.”

“Makes sense to me,” Astrid said as Skandr started wondering aloud at the difference in quality of paper made from an Iron tier or even higher tree or Verdant Walker compared to vellum or parchment. He very quickly lost the attention of the other party members as he wondered this, but it wasn’t long before the settlement was in sight and their focus was taken away from random thoughts, regardless of how much they cared to learn about Skandr’s opinions on paper.

Astrid wasn’t sure what exactly she’d expected, as the vision that the Grove Warden had shared with her lacked any depiction of the settlement she was meant to go to. As such, she’d just thought of a regular small town. Maybe a wall, but probably just some simple buildings made of stone or wood. She expected a ramshackle, rough place with villagers with unremarkable Classes which, in retrospect, was a pretty stupid thought. Why would random people be allowed to be here?

The settlement was a strange collection of buildings constructed from complete blocks of stone and natural greenery somehow cultivated into houses. It was a testament of the strength of whoever had built this place that they had Skills powerful enough to command stone to be in a particular shape or for trees to become homes for people. Evidently, the construction of this town hadn’t demanded the destruction of dozens or hundreds of trees to make the building materials, but the blocky stone buildings seemed to have to take up space that had previously been taken by trees. 

“Got some visitors, do we?” a voice appeared, as if from nowhere. Astrid looked around for the source, and saw a very regular-looking squirrel jumping up and down and waving its paws.

“Um, what? Who are you? Since when have there been talking squirrels?” Astrid asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Why would people go ahead and tell some squib like you the secrets of the Verdant Sanctuary?” the squirrel asked back, crossing their arms in front of their chest. The voice was squeaky and high-pitched, but Astrid thought there was something somewhat masculine about it.

“I suppose that’s true,” Astrid allowed, “but I fail to see how the Kin could have evolved from the influence of mana mutation, and then an entirely separate people like you would show up not along that same coast, but in the middle of the mountains where the trees gained sentience. And there’s no way nobody would’ve never talked about talking animals in the Sanctuary if that was the case.”

“You’re a Human and you don’t know anything about binding contracts through the Great One?” the squirrel scoffed. “I don’t know how you ever could’ve been trusted to get this far into the Sanctuary as ignorant as you are. The secrets of the Sanctuary are well-hidden.”

“Astrid, don’t listen to him,” Skandr interrupted, a certain pride flashing in his eyes. “This is a familiar. You know, like the Class that was offered to me could give?”

The squirrel dropped the annoyed façade at that and cocked its head while looking up at Skandr. “A Wizard, right? Specialized one. Branching out, but the mana that clings to you is electrical. No, stormy. Storm Wizard?”

Astrid felt a chill go down her back at bat, and the joviality that had settled over the party drained away in one quick moment.

“See, everybody can find secrets out if they’re aware of their existence as well as how and where to look. Maybe next time don’t go spilling other people’s secrets, shall we?”

Skandr’s mouth hung open for a split second, but he closed it and nodded once, tersely.

“Alright, since we’re not going to be playing with you right now, I’ll give you a serious welcome,” the squirrel spoke again, the voice still high pitched but no longer squeaky. “My name is Pollock, I’m one of the primary scouts in charge of the Neverwood’s security. Since you’ve come straight here, you’re obviously guests of the Verdant Walkers and will have limited access to Neverwood as well. Don’t cause trouble, and you’ll be welcome. If you do, you won’t be killed because you’re guests of the Verdant Walkers, but you will be expelled without any chance for reentry. However strong you seem to think you are, it won’t be enough and you’ll lose against the people we have here. Clear?”

“Makes sense,” Astrid answered. “But what counts as causing trouble for you? Can we have more specific rules to make sure that we’re not accidentally dooming ourselves to being unable to interact with the town because of unfamiliarity?”

“Don’t be idiots,” Pollock replied. “Don’t start a fight. Nobody else will, and if they do, defend yourselves. There’s enough people around to make sure the truth comes out. What tier are you all?”

“Steel,” Astrid answered.

“Damn. You’re pretty young for Steel. Well, come on in. We’ll get you whatever it is that you need, and if you decide you want to stick around, you can do that too.”

Pollock didn’t say anything more as the squirrel hopped back into the forest and the Wanderers were left alone.

“Go in?” Astrid asked, hesitant.

The rest nodded, and they turned and, much more nervous than before, made their way into the town that Pollock called Neverwood.