The Pinnacle Warrior

The party hurried through the floors, their path already mostly cleared, and once they got to the fourth floor, there were no more irregulars, so any monster that crossed their path was quickly dispatched.

“I know I’m the one who suggested this,” Benedict panted, “but this is really tiring, and I expected to not be the person who’s holding us back. After all, I have like 100 more Alacrity than Skandr does.”

“I’m just the only person who gets the benefit from my spell,” Skandr shrugged, his steps floaty as he, instead of running, jumped from one place to the next, each one forty or fifty meters apart as he hopped, hovered in the air, and landed. “So I don’t really get tired while also benefiting from Voice of Liberation.”

“I don’t care about the reason for it,” Benedict panted, his steps still sure and quick, “I’m just annoyed that I’m the person holding the rest of us back. Not the Wizard, not the Warrior wearing heavy armor, or even the frontliner—the Bard, famously known for being a well-rounded Class, is the slowest!”

“Every level you’ll close the gap with me,” Felix shrugged. “You gain five more Alacrity per level than I do, even though we’ve got a solid distance between us right now.”

Benedict waved him off and resumed playing on his flute, while the rest of the party fell into an easy silence, focusing more on their surroundings than on any conversations. When they reached the surface, Benedict started to slow down, pulling his spatial pouch out to offer to Astrid. She cocked her head to the side, confused, and asked, “Do you think I’m just going to run into town?”

“You or Muti, yeah,” he nodded. “You’re faster than the rest of us, and with all your Skills and abilities and  whatever, your Alacrity is higher than anybody else’s, even Muti.”

“And you don’t want to come and speak with Olafson about what equipment you would like to prioritize?” Astrid asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You don’t want to talk to him about what different options of equipment he might have you would like to have instead of others? You just want to… wait for us all to bring back something for you? Because I can guarantee that Felix, Skandr, and Muti aren’t about to just trust me to bring something back that hopefully will help.”

Benedict immediately slapped his palm to his forehead, resettled his spatial pouch on his hip, and said, “You’re right. Of course you’ll need me to come along to make sure that the equipment we get is at least satisfactory, and none of you are ever willing to haggle, so I’ll come and save us money.”

“Good choice,” Astrid smiled as she slowed down at the entrance to the surface. “The rest of you go ahead, I’ll just speak with our Grove Warden friend here. I’ll be right along.”

Muti reached out and took Astrid’s spatial pouch before nodding and hustling away. In a blur, the rest of the Wanderers were gone, and Astrid waited the several seconds it took for the Grove Warden to create contact between the two of them.

You are in a hurry. Has something gone wrong?

“No, there’s nothing to worry about,” Astrid shook her head. “We encountered the Boss. It’s an irregular, so we were looking to maybe get some equipment to be able to better fight it without putting ourselves in as much danger.”

The dragon is dangerous, even when it has not been strengthened by the surge from the Dungeon proper. Are you sure that you’ll be able to fight it?

“With a better shield on my part as well as maybe some consumables that will help us with ice? Yeah, I’m sure we can,” Astrid nodded. “It’s definitely going to be a hard fight, but I think with Vera’s help, we should be able to take care of it.”

If you are capable of it, every inhabitant of the Verdant Sanctuary would be very grateful. In fact, we would request that you remain here until the termination of the surge to continue to take care of any irregular Bosses here. If it is, however, outside of your grasp, we would not impose that upon you.

“Why would you be so eager for us to stay here?” Astrid asked. “I know there are plenty of other Groves who are more than capable of destroying this Boss in a single hit, even if it was 20 levels higher.”

It is no secret that our people are loathe to move, the Grove Warden’s voice came. The highest tier among my people are no different. In fact, each is stationed in a place that is suited to their ability and the location’s importance. To call one to come to monitor this Dungeon branch until the surge is over would require no small amount of reorganization from various different individuals and Groves. If you are capable of filling that gap in their place, it would provide a great value to us.

Astrid nearly agreed straight away, but instead of doing so, she thought for a moment and eventually said, “I’ll talk to my party about it. In the event that we do accept doing so, what would be the payment given to us for doing so?”

To be able to delve uninterrupted in an area which has a dragon Boss is already a large gift which any delver would fight to gain. To then amplify that with the branch undergoing a surge and giving you plenty of irregular materials and experience? I would think that this is a mutually beneficial situation, not one meriting additional payment from us. After all, we could very easily take care of this ourselves, using the mana-rich meat to feed the saplings.

Though she felt the blood rush to her face in embarrassment, Astrid just nodded in acknowledgment and said, “Thank you for the explanation of your terms. I will let my people know of the offer, and we will let you know if we decide to take you up on it.”

There wasn’t anything else for her to say, so Astrid waved goodbye, turned, and sprinted in the direction that her party would have gone. It was a familiar path, and they’d only had a couple minutes’ head start, but a couple minutes of travel at top speed was probably enough for the party to get halfway to Neverwood. She wasn’t going to be able to catch them before they arrived, and they’d all known that from the time they separated. Even so, she felt strange being all alone, with her party off somewhere else.

It was just a few minutes alone, with her heart thumping strong in her chest and her lungs demanding air, but she found her mind wandering into other possibilities, like Skandr had suggested might lie ahead of her. Maybe she could slow down her delving eventually, to spend much of her time in the Dungeon, but also to take breaks to see Ana and Jan, to have meals with her parents and visit Guinevere and Moira back in Schteldt. Maybe there was something beyond just being a delver, though that would always be a key part of her identity.

That was about as far as the thought got before she arrived back at Neverwood, this time not being stopped by an angry squirrel or anything. And instead, as she arrived at the settlement’s boundary, she slowed herself just enough to not send a massive cloud of dust through everybody’s houses. As she made her appearance, Vera’s head popped out of her house to grin down at Astrid.

“I wondered when you would show up,” the Greenthumb laughed. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” Astrid answered. “We’ll actually be popping in to see if you have any potions that can help us with ice and wind resistance. Do you think you will be able to help us out with that?”

“Oh, you want something other than just regular, lame potions?” Vera asked, putting the back of her hand to her forehead and feigning a faint. “Oh, what a blessing. I haven’t been able to tell you all how deprived I have been of your company. Beyond that, the opportunity to flex and show off my abilities? Truly, an honor.”

“So I’m going to take that as a yes,” Astrid shrugged. “We’ll be over in the next hour at the latest, ideally only half that or less.”

“Then I’ll be working very quickly to ensure I have the materials that you’re looking for. Oh, and you’ll be hoping not to see all of my mess. Yes, there will be very much to do before we are ready for company.”

Vera stuck her hand out the window, her fingers dancing in a flighty goodbye as she disappeared inside. Astrid walked straight into the trading post, disregarding any other buildings as she went. A few people seemed to be poking their heads out to look at her, and she waved, but she had one thing on her mind and didn’t care to stop and wait to exchange pleasantries.

Nobody was there in the front reception of the trading post, and as Astrid entered, Olafson’s voice echoed from behind the counter, “Just come on back. We’re unloading the materials.”

Astrid did as he said, hopping over the counter with ease as she stepped forward and down the stairs. They were a single, straight staircase forward, only a dozen or so steps down, and it opened into a massive cavern, one that could easily have two or three of the dragon Bosses’ corpses inside of it without issue, giving people space to walk between them. Somehow, a uniform light filled the room, sconces patterned on the walls and roof that emanated an even, soft but bright light.

In the center of the room stood her party before a massive table, twenty-five meters square, where the tails had been piled up—a bounty that had seemed so huge when they were collecting it, but now dwarfed by the size of the table they lay on. They were set out, and Olafson grinned widely, his not entirely Human face looking much more animalistic as his canines, much longer than a Human’s or Barbarian’s, were visible.

“This is all really valuable. I’m sure that Vera will want some, if you’re willing to sell it to her. Not as much value to her as it would be to an Apothecary or an Alchemist, but the Greenthumb has enough alchemical-adjacent abilities that I’m sure she’ll find some use for it. I’ll sell the excess to her.”

“I’m not sure how much everybody else has said,” Astrid said, jumping right in, “but we’re looking to get some equipment that will help us to deal with this frost dragon Boss, and then get back out there before we have to fight our way through the respawned monsters on the way and use that equipment. If possible, I’m happy to talk with you later, but right now, I kind of have something I want to get taken care of.”

“But of course,” Olafson said, nodding. Then his eyes widened as he asked, “Did you say frost dragon? Are you sure?”

“I’m not sure if that’s exactly what it is,” Astrid admitted, “but it was blowing ice and was really cold, so I’d hazard to guess that, if not a frost dragon, at least something pretty similar.”

Olafson’s eyes remained wide open as he seemed to mutter something to himself, nodded, and then said, “I have things for you right now that should help you. What you have here is more than enough for you each to get two more pieces of equipment, but I only have one ready for each of you. If it suits your fancy, great. If not, I’m sorry, that’s all I’ve got. There’s only so much time I have, and I didn’t really expect you to be able to bring so much to bear in terms of purchasing power already. However, I would also like to come with you when you go to kill this Boss.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t have that kind of trust with you,” Astrid immediately shut him down. “You’re a Craftsman. I can’t imagine that you’re much of a fighter, even if you are Mithril tier, and it would only be sacrificing some of our experience as well as cheapening the achievement in the eyes of the Great One.”

“No, no, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t trust you to take my most valuable spatial pouch, one that can carry the entire corpse. However, I want that whole thing, so I’m going to come along, wait outside the ninth floor, and once you tell me you’re done, I’ll come down, get the body, and we’ll come back here. Those materials will be more than enough to get some great equipment for all of you as well, but I wouldn’t guess that you would have time to harvest all of the bones as well as knowing how to do so without damaging them.”

Astrid nodded slowly, understanding. “Being a courier service, basically.”

“Exactly,” he nodded. “Now, it seems like we’re in a hurry, so I’ll just tell you straight out what I have for all of you. Astrid, a shield. It’s Dungeon silver again, but the rim is a Dungeon silver and Mithril alloy. That will allow you to, if you would like, effectively lengthen your shield for mana cost. Sound like something you want?”

“So it’s a higher quality Dungeon silver than this?” Astrid asked, handing over her heavily damaged shield.

“Yes. To put it delicately, anybody who gets past Iron tier calls Iron tier Dungeon silver and Dungeon gold false silver and gold,” Olafson shrugged. “This is true Steel tier Dungeon silver. Though not quite as high-quality as the materials that made your hammer, it’s really good, pretty close to Mithril tier stuff.”

Astrid grinned widely and immediately started gesturing for him to hand over the piece of equipment. He complied, reaching into a spatial pouch and pulling it out, placing it down in front of her. It was an oversized heater shield, the same shape she was used to, but perhaps a bit better sized to her body. Looking at it, just as the Craftsman had promised, the rim was a darker, striated metal that flickered in the light of the workshop. She wanted to immediately check out what the bonuses were from this equipment, but she forced herself to listen to what pieces were being offered to the rest of her party.

“Muti, shadow panther boots. What you have now is from a shadow stalker, and though a panther might sound less impressive, this is the hide of a high Steel-tier monster. They’ll produce shadow for you while also deepening the shadows you enter, and will help you to recover your stamina and mana more quickly while you stand in shadow. Also, of course, it will benefit all of the sneak attacks you make, granting a damage bonus to that.”

Muti’s smile widened so much that Astrid thought she might try to bite the Simian Kin, but instead she sat down and immediately started unlacing her boots. After so long of having only used her equipment Skill to put on her own armor, she didn’t look forward to that same moment when she had to get herself back into her new armor whenever that was, but that was a sacrifice she was more than willing to make for the benefits she was positive she would experience.

“Felix,” Olafson said, looking at the Guardian, “I know we’re going to sit down and update the enchantments on your shield. Do you need a stand-in for now?”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’ll hold up for now.”

“I’ll believe you, but don’t waste this material. It’s immensely valuable and rare. However, it’s also very difficult to replace your equipment bit by bit like for the others, given that your entire armor set needs to be worn at the same time. 

“Anyways. Fortunately, I have plenty of experience with working on various types of underlayment, and I relatively recently perfected a particular lining and leather combination that I think you will appreciate. The lining is a low Steel tier monster called a maned reindeer, which would be painfully hot to wear, if not for being sandwiched between two different leathers. In this case, both are the same, from a hurricane adder. Its leather keeps the airflow and ventilation very good while also maintaining the insulation from the reindeer fur. It will protect you from just about anything—cold, hot, poison, acid, lava, and more. The reindeer isn’t a particularly strong enemy, but they’re nearly impossible to kill, so I think you’ll be pleased with what this new underlayment will offer for you. Plus, the way that it’s padded means that concussive blows struggle to get through to your body, even if it is successful at disrupting your armor.”

Felix nodded his thanks as he dismissed his dusksteel armor and started plucking at the various different ties on his now unnecessary cave mongoose leather. Muti, having finished putting on her new boots, helped him, and Astrid watched as Olafson took a deep breath and looked at Skandr and Benedict.

“You two are the ones that I struggled the most with,” he admitted. “With people with Classes like yours, I’d really like to sit down and talk about what you might want, which we can do moving forward. These are almost more prototypes than anything else, and if I was still running a shop, I wouldn’t be selling these. However,” he continued, rushing to reassure, “that isn’t because I think that they’re inferior products. It’s just that I wouldn’t call them quite finished. If you find that you really like them and would like to keep them, I will refine them and we’ll get something significantly better for you before long.”

“So are you going to tell us, or are you just going to make excuses?” Benedict said, his grin wide as he met Olafson’s eyes. The other man laughed and pulled out another hat. Despite himself, Benedict’s head hung as he covered his eyes and asked, “It’s gonna be so good I can’t help it, isn’t it?”

“I’d sure like to think so,” Olafson laughed as he held the ostentatious, large black hat with a giant white feather out to Benedict. Without saying anything, Benedict took off his previous, by comparison very unobtrusive hat and put the new one on.

“Tell me, what is it going to do for me?”

“The feather is from a monster called a feathered siren. They’re famous for their ability to drive people insane with their voices. The material of the hat is from a demonic siamang, a kind of ape monster that can swell its throat up like a frog to give buffs to everything that’s on its team.” Olafson gave the information very quickly, the grin splitting his face so wide as Benedict kept his head down.

“And how much is the bonus?”

“What bonus?” Olafson laughed.

“The bonus to my Skills. I’m an adult, I can take the news.”

“Fifty percent bonus to the range of all sound-based Skills and a forty percent increase to the potency,” Olafson said. “To say nothing of the protective enchantments that should keep your pretty little head from being crushed to paste.”

“Damn you,” Benedict shook his head, the massive feather sticking out the top swaying as he did so. “And I’m going to have to assume that part of making this into a finished product isn’t going to be making it smaller?”

“That’s a whole lot of enchantment and not a whole lot of material to do it on,” Olafson said, not even trying to hide his glee. “If you’d like, I can probably make it smaller and weaken the enchantments by a bit. The smaller it gets, the less effective it’ll be.”

“Why couldn’t you just get me a hood like Skandr?” he whined, though he stood tall and didn’t seem to be too bothered by it.

“The material doesn’t lend itself to that particular form,” Olafson shrugged. “But that’s what you’ve got. Any complaints?”

“Not really,” Benedict shook his head, idly playing with the brim of the hat that went all the way around his head, except on the left, where it was tipped up at a right angle, parallel to the hole for his head.

Without anything else to say to the bard, Olafson turned to Skandr.

“First, how are you feeling about the staff? Is it doing what you want it to?”

“From my experience with it today,” he said, “it’s great, everything I would like it to do. Period.”

“Excellent. If that’s the case, I hope that maybe another slightly more experimental item like the staff will be welcome. Just don’t think it’s too weird before I explain.”

At that, Olafson pulled out the item he was going to offer to Skandr.