Chapters 157 & 158 (Patreon)

Minor cliffhanger warning.

Chapter 157

<Note added by Crawler Drakea. 22nd Edition> The hunters avoid the elites. They are smart enough to know not to fight against something they won’t be allowed to easily defeat. The problem for us is elites are more dangerous than the hunters, and much more numerous. They should always be avoided. However, it appears some of the more powerful hunters go out of their way to hunt these elites anyway, all in a quest to gain more equipment and clout for themselves. It is a most dangerous game, one I am happy to watch play out. I am not yet powerful enough to kill either elite or hunter claw-to-claw, but with my new subclass, I am experimenting with hidden traps that may even the odds. I shall attempt not to directly slay either, but to bring hunter and elite together. The woman from the talk show let slip that the naga fools have offered insurance to those idiotic dramas that control the elite beasts. It will be my pleasure to watch the elites fail and die. While killing a hunter directly is a worthy feat, it is not a smart one. Killing individuals may be satisfying, but the true satisfaction is hurting them on a larger scale. When one values coin above life, you should target the coin, for it hurts them more. And that is my food. My life. My god. Hurting the naga and everyone responsible for this nightmare.

~

Hunting Trophies Collected: 38

Time to level Collapse: 11 days 8 hours.

My first “boon” from the fire god Emberus was complete bullshit. It was plus 50% damage to all fire spells for 30 hours. I didn’t have any fire spells other than the 10% chance I now had to inflict Burn, which, apparently, didn’t count. Mordecai had warned me that boons were like low-tier loot boxes. Usually crap, but every once in a while, you’d get something great. This time it was a dud.

I received the notification of the boon just as we ranged forward to find the corpse of the other hunter. It was, once again, raining heavily by the time we got to him. We found the body close to where he’d been marked on my map. The seeking missile had blown the dude’s head clean off. His corpse was in the process of being eaten by slugs when we arrived. His hand was gone, having already been removed and sent to me in a hunter killer box. His only equipped magical gear was a +1 strength ring. It sat on the ground next to the body. I looted an unenchanted bow from him along with a bunch of regular arrows, another gonorrhea arrow, and a photograph of Louis. The first guy had a drawing, but this was an actual photograph that appeared to have been taken from his Facebook page. It didn’t look anything like him. He was wearing a straw hat and had some filter turned on that gave him dog ears, nose, and tongue. I showed it to Donut, and she fell over laughing.

The real prize was the trebuchet. The rock-throwing device was oddly small, especially considering the size of the rocks they’d been lobbing. It was the size and height of one of those windsurfing boards. We found it abandoned in the empty clearing, affixed to the ground with a set of spikes. It was made of some weird, hollow wood and was so light, I would’ve been able to easily carry it even before I had my strength enhanced.

The whole thing glowed green.

Enchanted Venomous Elven Rock Chucker – Contraption.

The mounted, fast-attack artillery specialists of the Dream don’t bring siege engines with them when they go raiding. That’s why they’re so annoyingly deadly. Using a combination of knowledge, druid magic, and a little something, something extra—wink—they’re able to rapidly construct their war machines on the fly. These can’t-take-a-joke beanpoles can conjure up a whole regiment of wall-breaching contraptions in a matter of hours. Translation: you don’t want these pale fuckers on your doorstep.

This particular light-duty rock thrower is made by casting Bamboozeled on a patch of land and then assembling the device from the resulting poisonous bamboo stalks. Bring a sling, some rope, a few extra parts, and you have a device that can hurl 300 kilos worth of “Do you hear something?” in an enemy’s direction. The magical bamboo stalks infuse anything hurled with this machine with Poison Cloud.

This contraption has a 90-second cooldown between each use.

It took me a minute to figure out how it worked. There was no counterweight like with traditional trebuchets, but the machine was made with a pair of magical plates that wanted to come together like magnets. You ratcheted the arm into place, attached the rock to the sling, and pulled the lever. The arm spun, and the poisoned rock blasted off.

Upon closer inspection, I suspected the plates weren’t actually magical, but some sort of high-tech bullshit. Something that was just as out of place in the dungeon as that photo of Louis. The only “enchanted” part of these things was the wood.

“These assholes are still cheating,” I grumbled, inspecting the postage-stamp-sized plate. It was covered with little diodes. I looked into the sky. “Do you guys see this? Well, it’s mine now.” I pulled the individual spikes and then picked up the trebuchet, taking the whole thing. A new tab appeared in my inventory labeled Siege Equipment.

They’d picked this clearing because a pile of rocks stood nearby. They were the ancient remains of some long-collapsed building from before the Scolopendra disaster. I picked up a few of the heavy boulders and added them so I’d have some ammo handy if I ever got the opportunity.

We searched the clearing for traps, supplies, or any sign there’d been another hunter before moving on. Clint and Holger had both returned to their fuzzy, humanoid forms. They sifted through the nearby underbrush like a pair of expert trackers.

“I don’t know why you’re taking all this stuff,” Samantha said from the ground as I finished looting the rocks. She had a small slug crawling on her forehead. “I can fly a lot further than that thing can throw stuff.”

“You’re not wrong,” I said. “But what if you ever get your body back? Or if I want to throw something really big? Plus this thing imbues stuff with Poison Cloud.”

She answered by making a growling noise and then rolling off through the grass. Mongo chased after her, grunting playfully.

“I do wonder if that was all of them,” Donut said as she watched the god and dinosaur frolic. “All of the Dream elves, I mean. We don’t have a way of knowing how many of each hunter faction are here.”

“Yeah, I should have asked that guy more questions before I killed him. I think that was probably all of them, but we’ll be ready if there’s more.”

“I hope for Louis’s sake it was all of them,” Donut said. “They seem to be really mad at him. I don’t know why. If you’re going to be famous, you need to deal with thirsty fans. On the Princess Posse sever, I receive multiple marriage proposals a day. And there’s this one saccathian who keeps sending me pictures of his tentacles for some reason. But I don’t actually get offended by it.” She sighed dramatically. “It’s the price of fame, I suppose.”

“He’s gonna to have to deal with it eventually,” I said. “We have too much on our own plates to worry about him right now.”

The schedule for the next few days was going to be taxing. We still had several hours before we were to help Signet with her castle assault. From there, we were going to move south and attempt to take another town and do the same thing that we did to Point Mongo. Take it, set up defenses, and train the local guards and populace to fight the hunters.

The next town south of Point Mongo also bordered the wide swath of low jungle that represented the area with Kiwi the Mongoliensis and the other dinosaurs. We still had to figure out that quest if we had time.

I also had three separate events I was going to appear at over the next few days, all thanks to my fan box. I wasn’t looking forward to that. Not even a little bit.

It was almost overwhelming. One problem at a time, I thought.

As soon as we were done here, the task at hand would be the Vengeance of the Daughter storyline. They said they were open to a deal for another season, but they hadn’t committed to it. I was starting to suspect that they didn’t actually want one, despite what they’d told my lawyer. If that was true, there was only one real explanation for it. They had some grand finale planned out. One that likely ended with the death of Signet and probably everybody around her.

It'd been bugging me since we’d gotten that warning from Odette’s assistant. After we dealt with the naiads, Signet’s ultimate goal was to get to and kill her stepsister. Imogen. The high elf queen. But this same lady was also the big, bad country boss that all the top crawlers were going to have to deal with at the party. On the third floor, my exploits with Signet weren’t shown on the recap episodes because anything that happened with an elite was licensed to the owners of the elite’s program. There was no way—no way at all—that Borant or the Valtay or whoever was in charge would allow this floor’s massive climax to be exclusive to some other program.

So what did that mean?

Maybe that meant the Vengeance of the Daughter’sclimax was set to pop off before this party at the end of the floor. If so, it’d be Signet versus a boss that wouldn’t be allowed to be killed. If that was the case, it meant they were going for a tragic climax. Both Mordecai and Zev had told us that these programs loved their unhappy endings. There’d be no appearance on the ninth floor. And if Signet died, everyone around her would probably get the axe, too. Including me and Donut.

Make sure you surround yourself with trustworthy, competent companions. Not too many, but enough to get the job done. That was Herot’s advice. He’d written the 16th edition. I’d been re-reading his convoluted, rambling essay on the nature of NPCs recently. I had a nagging feeling that there was genius in there, hidden in his wandering sentences. Efficient helpers are an absolute must. Remember their true capacity. Fools will get you killed.

“Put me down! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill your mother!” Samantha screamed, breaking me out of my thoughts. Mongo had picked her up and was shaking her back and forth like a chew toy.

“Hey!” Donut protested.

Clint and Holger howled with laughter.

I sighed.

~

“So, a ‘castor’ is actually a beaver?” Donut asked Holger as we walked. We’d been walking for almost three hours now, grinding on small, vicious mobs called slickbacks, which were like half-sized wolverines that popped up out of holes in the ground. They were easy to kill since Donut could see them before they emerged. We had to put Mongo away because once he discovered them, he was gleefully committing mass murder, denying us the chance to grind.

The sun set, and nighttime descended on the forest. Donut cast her Torch spell, which was now level 13. The slickbacks moved deeper into their holes. Holger said they’d soon be replaced by predatory bat-like creatures. They generally didn’t attack groups, especially a well-lit one, but we still had to be on the lookout. We would be at our destination soon.

We were on our way north to meet Signet and the rest of the team for the assault on Fort Freedom, the former naiad palace. Clint had run ahead let them know we were on the way. Supposedly the entire “assault team” was going to gather at another one of those old trees. From there, we’d approach the river and execute the plan. Thankfully, Donut and I had but a minor role in tonight’s assault. It was clear Signet wanted to keep us safe for the second part.

Plus, the castle was 4/5’s submerged, and we all knew Donut’s opinion on going underwater. She’d already reiterated the point multiple times.

Samantha also traveled with us. I carried her at first, but she wouldn’t shut up, so I was now making her roll. She followed behind or ahead, happily growling and splashing through the mud and foliage. She could move quickly, but she couldn’t jump or hop, which sometimes bogged her down. She kept getting hung up in bushes and branches, and we were constantly rescuing her. At first, I was worried about her running off or disappearing into the darkness. She didn’t. She hummed to herself merrily as we went, and she cursed loudly whenever she bumped into something. She was frequently threatening trees.

“I ain’t never heard the term beaver before,” Holger said. “But you foreigners always have funny words for things.”

“Well, you are most definitely a were-beaver. It’s adorable. This chee form you’re in now is perfectly fine, but the beaver body is just a delight.” Donut suddenly gasped. “Carl, is that where castor oil comes from? Do they get it from beavers? Miss Beatrice used to use castor oil on her head for her hair. She insisted it made it grow faster. She did have nice hair. Almost as nice as Holger’s. She’d sometimes make me drink a drop of it so I’d poop before I went into the judging cage. It always made my stomach hurt.” She smacked her mouth. “My word, what an unpleasant memory. Come to think of it, it did taste a bit how you smell, Holger.”

“She shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “I’m pretty sure castor oil is really dangerous for cats. It doesn’t come from beavers. It comes from a castor bean. But I once read they used beaver gland excretions or something for perfume and as a vanilla flavoring.”

“That’s disgusting,” Donut said. “Vanilla? Beavers do not give me a vanilla vibe. Maybe rocky road. Or Neapolitan. But vanilla? Hardly.”

“There’s a beaver god in the Nothing,” Samantha said. She’d rolled up between us. “Capa or something. He’s a fuck. Another god, Hehaka, uses him as a hat. He doesn’t like that much, but he can’t do anything about it. He’s always crying.”

“Gland excretions?” Holger asked, ignoring Samantha. “For perfume? Oi, you guys are crazy. No wonder you humans smell so bad.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Donut said. “You should have met some of Carl’s old friends. He had this one friend named Maloney who smelled like rotten Spaghetti-O’s mixed with…”

Donut was interrupted by a distant, bright light shining into the air, turning night to day, coming through the trees, so bright it overwhelmed the torch. The brilliant, blue flash stopped us in our tracks. It was followed shortly by a crackling lightning sound and then the rumble of thunder. The ground shook, and all the hair on my arms stood on their end as I felt the tingle of electricity. Donut and Samantha both let out little screeches.

“Carl, what was that? That sounded like an explosion!”

We all stopped and crouched down. Donut snapped off her Torchspell.

“Not an explosion,” I said. “It was lightning.”

“That’s where the all-tree is!” Holger said. “Just over the next bend. I think they got attacked!”

The scent of burning wood filled the air.

“Donut, what’s on your map?” I asked.

“We’re too far away!”

“I’m on it. I’ll kill ‘em!” Samantha said, rolling off.

“Wait,” I hissed, but she was already gone.

“Goddamnit,” I said. I was about to go grab her, but I hesitated. The whole plan was to use her as a distraction anyway. She rumbled off into the night. “We’ll follow, but stop as soon as you see something on your map.”

“Yoohoo! Who’s shooting lightning!” Samantha yelled in the distance.

“For something so small, she sure makes a lot of noise,” Donut muttered.

“Come on,” I said. “Stay low.” We moved quickly through the dark woods. There were suddenly dots everywhere, but they were all low-level forest creatures fleeing the explosion. A group of the ever-present monkeys screeched as they rustled through the trees above us.

“There’s a few Xs on the map,” Donut said as we approached. “Uh oh, I see a hunter. No, wait. It’s surrounded by a bunch of NPCs. And two elites. It’s Signet and that scary ogre guy. What was his name? Areson. That’s it. I see the other beavers and their caterpillar lady. I don’t know who shot the lightning, but I think the hunter guys got the worst of it. There’s two dead bodies, and I think they’re the bad guys. Carl, these hunters are terrible at their jobs. They keep getting caught and killed.”

Ahead, Samantha started caterwauling, screaming for help. She’d gotten herself stuck.

I sighed. “Okay, come on,” I said, standing up.

Chapter 158

Clint found us as I fished Samantha out of the mud.

“Gah, how did you get stuck down there?” I asked. She’d gotten herself wedged in good. She’d somehow gotten the back of her head half-buried. I had to yank to free her. Her head made a slurping noise as she pulled from the mud.

“I was trying to take a shortcut, but I hit a rock.” Globs of mud cascaded off of her.

Clint emerged. The bald man had a harried look to him.

“There you are. Taking the scenic route, are you? We’re all waiting for ye.”

“Everybody okay?” Holger asked.

“We got jumped by a trio of off-worlders. They’re a weird kind of hairy orc ain’t never seen before. Hurt a few elves, unfortunately, but it didn’t kill ‘em. The fools used a lightning attack near the all-tree.”

“Oi,” Holger said, shaking his mullet. “What a bunch of twats. So they get splattered?”

“Two of them,” Clint said. “The third got his shoes blown right off him. Areson grabbed him. Now Signet is gonna use him as her sacrifice. She’s gonna assemble her battle squad. The full group. I’m pretty excited about it.”

“Signet? Tsarina Signet is there?” Samantha asked. She wiggled out of my hands and plopped to the ground. She started rolling off toward the encampment, shouting, but she got herself stuck again about twenty feet away. She started growling.

“What’s the all-tree?” I asked, moving to grab her.

“You saw it before,” Holger said. “It’s an old, magic-infused tree. It protects us. The dwellers of the forest.”

I remembered the old tree we’d sat around the first time Signet had gathered all of us together. The description hadn’t been very helpful, I remembered. “That other tree was pretty far from here.”

“Yep,” Holger agreed. “It’s all the same tree. The roots cover the entire area. What you saw was just a small outgrowing off one of the roots. The main body is far below us, between the disputed lands and the celestial realm.”

“Huh,” I said. I couldn’t remember reading anything about a giant, floor-spanning tree in the cookbook. “And this tree protected you from a lightning attack?”

Clint answered as I bent down to once again retrieve Samantha, who was now shouting for me to let her do it herself. Donut clucked her tongue at how dirty the sex doll head had gotten.

“Any forest-kin within a few hundred meters of an all-tree outcropping is protected from magic attacks. The tree sucks the spell in and turns it on the caster. Everybody knows that. It kills the outcropping. But it grows back in a few months. Only an idiot attacks near one of them things.”

This had to be something new. There was no way a hunter would be stupid enough to attack otherwise.

“The tree protects forest dwellers? Even the high elves?” Donut asked. “Even though they’re the bad guys?”

“Yeah,” Clint said. “Those assholes have their castle right in the middle of a grove of the things. The all-tree don’t give a shit about who is good or bad. It just shields those of us who have the forest in our blood. It’s not smart or nothing.”

“That’s too bad,” Donut said. “I thought maybe it was like that tree from that weird, blue alien movie with the Ghostbusters lady and that Scientologist guy who was dating Eric Forman’s mom on Friends.”

“What?” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Really, Carl. If you’re not going to understand my references, I don’t know why I even bother discussing classic entertainment with you.’

“Put me down! Put me down,” Samantha demanded, interrupting. She wiggled in my hands.

“Okay, but if you get stuck again, you’re gonna have to get yourself out,” I said.

“Put me down!”

I rolled her like a bowling ball, and she disappeared into the woods.

A few minutes later, we entered the clearing to find Signet conversing quietly with Areson. The ogre nodded and picked the unconscious hunter up over his shoulder and walked off into the dark. He was followed by a group of bush elves and ursine.

Samantha had not yet arrived, having gotten herself tangled up once again. I was going to give her the chance to free herself before I rescued her.

I looked down at the fried corpses of the two orcs. While there were X’s on the map, these guys had been so thoroughly fried, there was hardly anything left of them. Still, I had the ability to loot one of them.

Corpse of Hunter The Talent. Killed by zapping himself with his own Lightning scroll. What a punk.

The Skull Empire.

“I was wondering when these assholes would show up,” I said.

“They seem about as inept as their Prince Maestro,” Donut said. “Do these guys really run a giant galactic empire?

This guy, who had the ridiculous name “The Talent” had three scrolls of Lightning and an astounding amount of gold. Almost 75,000 gold pieces, which was—by far—the most amount of gold we’d ever found on someone.

Carl: Hey, Donut. You better loot this one. Not me. Don’t want to pay that much in tithe taxes.

Donut audibly gasped when she saw what he had on him.

Donut: WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MUCH. THE OTHER ONE DOESN’T HAVE ANYTHING.

Carl: Dunno. But be careful with those scrolls.

Donut: CARL, CARL. HE HAD SOMETHING ELSE. IT WASN’T LISTED, BUT WHEN I HIT LOOT ALL, I GOT SOMETHING EXTRA! IT’S A CREDIT CHIT. I THINK THAT’S LIKE A CREDIT CARD. IT DOESN’T HAVE A DESCRIPTION. IT LOOKS LIKE A CREDIT CARD. WE NEED TO GO BUY SOMETHING WITH IT BEFORE THEY CANCEL IT!

Carl: Hold onto it for now. We’ll ask Mordecai about it later. From now on, when you loot hunters. Only take one item at a time. Don’t do the loot all option.

Donut: THAT’S GOING TO TAKE FOREVER, CARL.

“They somehow knew we’d be meeting here,” Signet said. “They were hiding, preparing an ambush when Edgar sensed them. It forced them to attack.”

Edgar was the tortoise creature. He looked like a regular, giant tortoise one would find in any zoo. One of those creatures who was always like 150 years old. The only difference was this guy could talk. He and Donut had taken a liking to each other.

“Where are you taking the other one?” I asked.

“Areson is preparing the sacrifice,” Signet said. “I was hoping you’d do the honors.”

I nodded. “Absolutely. But I’d like to talk to him first.”

“If we have time.”

In the clearing behind us, the “all-tree” was nothing but a burnt-out bunch of branches. It had sucked in the lightning spell and returned it to the orc who’d cast the spell, also blasting his two companions. But the event had caught the tree on fire. It’d eventually grow back.

“Signet! Darling!” Samantha cried, her voice uncharacteristically high-pitched and friendly. She rolled up to Signet’s feet and started pushing against her, leaving muddy splotches on her leg. She had a branch in her hair. “Niece! Or is it cousin? I gotta say, I love the bare breasts. It’s good. A bold statement. They’re not as good as mine, but I am impressed that our genes have held up so well. Seriously. Those are some grade-A party pillows. When I first got locked up, there was a time when I did a little experimenting with these demon ladies we got locked up with, and I learned to really appreciate… You know what, never mind. You don’t want to hear about that. All I’m trying to say is nice tits. You got them from my side of the family, I’ll have you know. I don’t know why you’d besmirched such a beautiful body with so much ink, but that’s something that can be dealt with. Oh, I suppose I should call you tsarina, shouldn’t I?”

“What in the name of the gods?” Signet said, stepping back. “Is that supposed to be a Lika head?”

Lika was the fictional character the original sex doll was based on.

“Uh, yeah, that’s Samantha,” I said. “It’s who we were going to use as the distraction.”

“I see,” Signet said, looking down at her, mouth tight.

“She says she’s related to you,” Donut added. “She’s a withering spirit!”

Signet crouched down and picked up the sex doll head to examine it. All the tattoos swirling about her skin crowded to the front to get a better look.

“Look, cousin. Your imperial majesty. I need you,” Samantha said as Signet turned the latex head over in her hands. The naiad ran a finger along the scar on Samantha’s chin. “As I’m sure you heard, my pop sent me on a little time out, and you would not believe what I had to go through to get back out. But the human who was helping me screwed everything up, and long story short, I’m stuck in this thing. You being the last trueblood heir to the empire anda blood relation, you have the ability to help me out. It won’t even be that difficult for you. It’ll take like two-three minutes. Tops. And I’ll have my body back.”

Signet looked at me pointedly. “Carl, when you said you had someone to assist in the assault, you forgot to mention a few details.”

I grunted. “I seem to recall when you used Donut’s life as a bargaining chip to get me to help you. This isn’t even close to that.”

Signet sighed and returned her attention to Samantha, who was unsuccessfully attempting to distort her wide mouth into a big smile. The effect was like a fish gasping for breath

“What, exactly, do you wish for me to do for you?” Signet asked.

“You have to give me your body,” Samantha said. “You’ll die, of course. But it’ll only take a few minutes. I’ll walk you through the spell. I see you’re a summoner, so you most definitely have the chops to cast it. Do you wish to get started now, or do you want to do the assault on the castle first? I mean, no offence, but that’ll be much easier once I take over. What’s your bra size? King Blaine loves them big. He’s sure to stop banging my mother once he sees my new body. We’ll have to expel those tattoos first, but no problem. Really, no need to apologize. Oh, I am so excited.”

Signet returned her gaze to me.

I laughed.

~

“Ungrateful bitch,” Samantha grumbled as we approached the river. We’d had to hike for another half an hour through the dark woods to get to the edge of the river, and Samantha had been grousing the entire time.

“Shush,” I said. “You need to stay quiet.”

“She’s a liar. Just like her slut aunt Corrine.”

Samantha sat upon the back of Mongo, lashed just behind Donut on the saddle. We didn’t trust her not to roll off. Donut turned and patted the head with a paw. “Don’t you worry,” Donut said. “We’ll get something soon enough.”

“I wanted her body,” Samantha said. “She has a nice body. I don’t see why she won’t just give it to me.”

“She said she’ll help you,” Donut said. “She just doesn’t want to, you know, die in the process. It would be most inconvenient for her.”

“She’s full of shit,” Samantha grumbled.

Signet was full of shit. It was painfully obvious she had no intention of helping Samantha regain her body. She’d told Samantha that after both the naiads and elves were dealt with, she possibly had a spell that could summon a permanent body for her. The elite was really just saying that to get her to shut up.

The problem was that Samantha was no dumbass. She was batshit crazy, but she wasn’t dumb. Still, she wanted it so bad, she was willing to help just in case Signet was being truthful. That didn’t stop her from bitching about it the whole time.

“When we approach the water, we have to be quiet. We don’t want them knowing we’re here yet,” I said.

“I’m going to kill all of them,” Samantha said. “Just you watch. I’m going to kill them all. And then their mothers.”

Ahead, the shimmering blue of a spell danced in the air. This was a protection spell, designed to keep large parties invisible. It’d been cast by Edgar the tortoise, who was something called a Shell Mage. We headed toward the edge of the spell and pushed ourselves inside. My ears popped, similar to when I went in and out of a Protective Shell.

You are secreted!

The area of the spell was huge, bigger than I was expecting. I was suddenly reminded of Grimaldi’s circus tent. You could hide a whole army in here. Ahead, the others crowded at the top of a hill. I spied Areson the ogre, still with the orc slung over his shoulder. The bound creature was awake and struggling.

We crested the hill, and there it was, glittering in the dark. Fort freedom.

We stood at the edge of the forest, just inside the line of trees. The protection spell extended about a quarter of the way down the hill. A long, muddy slope led down to the river, which was much wider here. At least a mile and a half, which was significantly wider than it was just outside of Point Mongo to the south. The naiads had cleared the slope of foliage so they could see if anything approached. A single, rock-paved trail led down out of the forest to a stone archway, which ended at the riverbank.

As I gazed upon the slope, multiple lights started popping up around the area. Traps. Lots of traps. These were alarms and summoning traps. I turned my focus to the stone walkway, and it was also covered with “silent alarm” traps.

A group of bush elves crawled over the muddy slope, quietly disarming the traps within the area of the spell. As I watched, a group expertly crept out of the spell’s containment and moved to the first trap. Actually, a trap I hadn’t yet noticed. They set to work disarming it. They were carving a path to the water.

The castle itself sat about a quarter-mile offshore, coming up out of the water like the top of a skyscraper that had been submerged in a flood. Even in the dark, I could see the castle was in poor repair. One of the ramparts was missing a wall. A dark, tattered flag hung from a pole, which leaned at an odd angle, like it was about to tumble forward. What had once been a massive, arched, stained-glass window was built into the stone just above the waterline, spanning two stories high. It was now dotted with holes, so many that I couldn’t tell what it once depicted.

If there was a bridge from the shore to the castle, it was long gone.

Only about half of Signet’s fighters were here. The other half were on the opposite shore, hidden in the trees.

I came to stand next to Signet, who gazed mournfully at the castle. She turned to look at me. A single tear ran down her cheek.

“You know what the funny thing is?” Signet asked.

“What’s that?”

“If they had just waited, they would’ve gained control anyway. It would’ve been a peaceful and organized change of power. They didn’t have to kill my mother. I was her only child. Under the imperial charter, I would’ve never been eligible. The rule would’ve gone back to the people. But the confederacy couldn’t wait, and they killed my mother right before she was to become tsarina. Sometimes, looking back, I think she was planning on stepping down anyway. She talked about it sometimes. Just me and her running off. Finding an island somewhere.”

The tears running down Signet’s face weren’t actually touching her skin. They hovered just a millimeter off of her, and when she turned her head, they flew off and away, some striking me. Water doesn’t touch her. What had she said to Donut before? It’s not a spell. It’s a curse.

I still didn’t know Signet’s full story. At least not the details. I knew her mom was a princess, but she’d gotten knocked up by the high elf king guy. King Finian, who was now dead. A coup had killed her mother and gotten Signet banished from the naiad. At the same time, just as King Finian’s health started to fail, his heir—Princess Imogen—set out to eradicate all the half-elf bastards he’d sown. Probably to secure her own claim to the high elf crown. Signet had been forced to flee to the Over City where she’d joined the circus.

The naiad kingdom wasn’t very big. The naiad people had fallen to anarchy. The usurpers occupied the castle, no longer maintaining it or the kingdom. They were so obsessed with the idea of being “free” that they lost sight of what it meant to actually run a government. Like with most of these stories and quests, this was probably some bullshit political cartoon, and they were making a statement about something. I didn’t care. However, I knew I needed to know about all of this as much as I could.

We should be doing this part last, I thought. That makes more sense.

“So, you ready to summon your squad?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said, straightening. “You send that possessed thing into the water and get the main guards moving toward her, and my crew will take the castle from the top down. You, Princess Donut, and the rest of the ground team will protect the shore from those who might attempt escape. I suspect you won’t see much fighting. They rarely leave the water.” She paused. “If something happens to me tonight, I want you to know that I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Carl. I consider you part of my family, now. And family is very important to me.”

I turned toward the captive. “Let’s get this done.”

I had to do the sacrifice first. It took Signet several minutes to cast her spell once the sacrifice was made. While she did, I would toss Samantha into the water, but I had to use my xistera extension if I wanted to get her back. I would have to keep the extension on my arm.

Signet nodded at Areson, who stepped forward and unceremoniously dumped the orc at my feet. I examined him.

Her, actually. She was a young, female orc, spitting and grunting. I grinned when I saw her class. Like Gwen, she’d traded fighting skills for no magic whatsoever. But she was also still level 50, which meant she hadn’t even leveled once since she got here. This had very likely been her very first foray into battle.

Future Huntress – Wire-Haired Orc. Level 50. Boring Ol’ Fighter.

The Skull Empire.

I kneeled down in front of her. Areson had gagged her and tied her up. He’d also stripped her of all her gear. She didn’t have anything magical on her and wore a simple bodysuit. She possibly had a scroll in her inventory, but the fact she hadn’t used it yet suggested she didn’t. The dead one with the money and the scrolls and that weird credit chit had obviously been the leader of the group and held onto all the expensive gear. Still, I had to be cautious. Like usual, I pulled the ring from my inventory and stuck it on my finger. I cast Wisp Armor on myself, which would last for ten minutes. I pulled the gag off. Samantha rolled up and started chewing on the orc’s ankle, growling. I left her there as a distraction since she couldn’t do any damage.

“You can’t do this,” Future Huntress said, her voice full of fear. “You can’t do this. The Skull Empire will hunt you down and kill you.”

Donut and I both laughed.

“Oh, honey,” Donut said. “Are you suggesting that if we don’t kill you, the Skull Empire won’t hunt Carl down? I mean, really. What an absurd threat.”

“How many other skull empire orcs are there on the floor?”

“Thousands,” she hissed.

I sighed. “Including you, that was three. We already wiped out all the Dream elves.” We still didn’t know if that was true or not, but I was hoping it was. “We know about the hunting areas. This isn’t even your territory. The Gorgites have this area.”

“Top tens are fair game for those who bought the hunting license. It doesn’t matter where they are.”

“Hunting license?” I asked. “Is that official?”

She didn’t answer. She continued to glare at me sullenly. “You should let me go. If I die, then you’ll be free game for the Dark Hive. We paid to have first crack at you.”

“So you are the last of the orcs?” I asked.

She didn’t answer.

“I can yank an arm off to get her to talk,” Areson said.

“No,” Signet said. “It’ll weaken the sacrifice. Even if we heal her.”

“I’m not going to torture her,” I said, standing up. “Untie her and heal her. If she pulls something, make sure she doesn’t get away.”

“No, no. Please. You can’t do this. I’m a real person. Not a crawler or an NPC. I’m a real person.”

I’d actually been starting to feel bad about this. She was so goddamned scared. I pulled up my menu to mark her, but I was interrupted by a notification.

System Message: A champion has fallen. A hunter has claimed a bounty.

“Fuck, fuck,” I said, quickly pulling up my chat to make sure everybody was still on there.

Katia: Something’s happened. Langley’s team is gone. All of them. They’re all dead.

Next to me, Donut gasped. I held my head low. Langley. The archer and all his friends who’d been crucial on the previous floor. But they weren’t on the top 10. That message only appeared when someone on the list fell.

Carl: Goddamnit. I’m really busy right now. The dead top-10 must have been that two-headed guy. The Popovs.

Katia: No, Langley hadn’t gotten to them yet. They were hunting down Bogdon Ro on their own with a large group. They had him cornered.

Bogdon Ro was a guy who’d been off and on the top 10, but I didn’t know anything about him other than that he had a bunch of player killer skulls. Whatever happened resulted in the death of all of them, and a hunter had gotten credit.

“See?” Future Hunter said. “See how dangerous Vrah is? You need me to protect you. She can’t hunt you for three more days, but not if I die. Then you’re fair game.”

I took a deep breath. Poor Langley. He and his friends had worked so goddamn hard to get off that last floor. They’d all been immigrants to Finland, working their fingers to the bones their entire lives. They’d had to scrabble for everything they’d ever had, and the moment they’d gotten a leg up, they’d turned around and tried to help others. And just like that. Gone. He’d been trying to do something good.

“You know,” I said. “The only possible reason why Vrah would let you guys go first was because she knew you’d fail.”

The orc seemed to deflate. She nodded. “I know,” she said after a moment. “I should never have come here.”

“No,” I agreed. “No, you shouldn’t have.”

“Carl,” Signet said.

I marked Future Hunter. A moment later, I groaned.

“Charisma?” I said. “Your highest stat is charisma?”

The doomed orc sat up straight. She knew now that she’d been marked, it was over. She sighed heavily. “I thought I could charm my way out of bad situations.”

“But you’re an orc,” Donut said, incredulous. She’d stepped back. We had a circle around us now, everybody watching.

I formed a fist.

~

I pulled my xistera extension and loaded Samantha up. I grabbed an alarm trap ball, one I’d marked “Annoying” and duct-taped it to her head. I set the timer for one minute. Nearby, Signet was frozen, her arms out in a Jesus pose. The tattoos around her body swirled, faster and faster. The were-castors all oohed and aahed as they watched.

“What song does that one play?” Donut asked, peering at the alarm trap.

“It’s not important,” I said. I couldn’t get Langley out of my head. I should have talked to him more. I hadn’t said a word to him since the floor started. “It’ll be submerged, and you probably won’t hear it.” To Samantha I said. “I’m going to throw you a little upstream. Just start shouting when the alarm goes off. The current isn’t too strong, but if you can, try to aim yourself to get inside the castle. Let me know if you overshoot it. If they capture you, remember your lines.”

“I don’t want this strapped to my head!” Samantha said. “I can be plenty loud without the trap!”

“Don’t worry. They’ll get rid of it as soon as they can.”

“I’m going to kill all of them.”

“Remember your lines. You’ll have plenty of time to kill them after.”

I turned, aimed, and chucked Samantha into the river. She arched up and away, plopping into the water.

I turned in time to watch the three-headed, paper orc emerge out into the sky, stooping down to remain within the protection spell. Nearby, the were-castors all started to transform. The elves glowed as they cast a water spell on themselves.

Nearby, the body of Future Hunter remained crumpled on the ground where I’d caved her head in with my foot. She hadn’t even fought back. Her hand had already been magically removed by the system. I thought of poor Langley. I will break you all.

Samantha: WHAT IS THIS WONDERFUL SONG.

Carl: It’s called Wonderwall.

Donut: CARL, YOU THREW THE WRONG TRAP.

An alarm went off somewhere deep in the castle. The sound echoed up into the night air.

More paper monsters formed. The protection spell around us snapped off.

“For my mother,” Signet said, and she moved toward the water, followed by the assault team. We watched them move forward. To my surprise, Edgar the tortoise moved with them. And Areson the ogre remained with us. The caterpillar remained with us, too.

“Do you think we’re going to have to fight anything?” Donut asked, watching the assault team.

“What do you think?” I said.

~~

Next chapter should be pretty fun. Sorry about the slowness for these two. I had the entirety of the next DCC audiobook thrown at me, and I had to proof it. I also had to write a post-credits scene, which I will post later.  That one gives a small look at Vrah's life outside the crawl. All in all 18+ hours of audio that I had to listen to twice. It's a lot of work, but I'm stoked about it.

Later today I'm doing an interview on Drew Hayes' Authors and Dragons podcast which should become available next week. He and Robert Bevan are two of my favorite writers, so I'm pretty stoked.  I'm about to fly off to Hawaii in a few days to install my child into her new school. I'm actually hoping/expecting to get more work--not less--done while I'm there.