Day Seven. Morning.

Ishan’s eyes narrowed as he analyzed the potion in my hand. The next moment, he gasped and snatched desperately for the flask. It was laughably easy to pull it out of his reach.

“An antidote! Gimme!” the mage demanded.

“Tsk, tsk,” I said, shaking my head. “Not so fast. Tell me what I want to know first.”

Ishan’s eyes darted from me to the potion, and I could see he was not convinced yet.

“You are on your last life,” I said by way of encouragement. “This is it for you. Despite how much you fear or love your goddess, if you die now, you’re gone for good. You don’t want that, do you?”

Ishan licked his lips, then gave in to temptation. “What do you want to know?”

“Why do the Awakened Dead want this sector?”

“For access to the Netherworld, obviously,” Ishan sneered.

“Obviously,” I agreed. “But that can’t be all. There must be more to it.”

The mage remained stubbornly silent.

I shook the antidote in my hand. “Do you want this or not?” I asked impatiently. “That healing potion I gave you will not last forever. I will not waste another on you. Now, are you going to talk or not?”

Ishan nodded reluctantly. “It’s for the dungeons. The chain of dungeons accessible through the nether portal in this sector are no ordinary ones,” he said at last.

That made no sense. I’d been in the dungeon. There had been nothing unusual about it. I threw Ishan a hard look. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve been there, remember?”

Ishan snorted. “You’re referring to Erebus’ candidate dungeon?”

I nodded.

The mage guffawed. “That’s only the first dungeon sector. It was cleared ages ago and, for obvious reasons, was configured to look normal. Erebus made certain it was reseeded with ordinary creatures.”

I frowned. “The goblins, you mean?”

“Yes, like the goblins,” Ishan agreed. “The candidate dungeon is just the start. Beyond it are many more dungeon sectors. Ones overflowing with high-leveled creatures, loot, and items beyond your wildest dreams.”

I stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

The mage laughed. “That’s because you are still a noob. Not all dungeon sectors are equal. Some are more prized than others, some more difficult, and some wealthier. The region of the Netherworld that this sector’s portal leads into is rich in loot and experience—richer than any other known dungeons in the Forever Kingdom. Enough so, to boost the level of every Awakened Dead player by many ranks.”

“I see,” I said, rubbing my chin. “And that is what makes controlling the valley vital?”

Ishan nodded.

“Then why force the goblins to fight each other? Why not fortify the sector heavily instead?”

“That’s the last thing we’d want to do,” Ishan said. “The moment the other Dark factions realize what lies beneath the valley, they will all want a piece of it, too. And we don’t want to share.”

I stared at him in consternation. “Wait. Are you saying the rest of the Dark doesn’t know about these… rich dungeons?”

“Of course, they don’t!” Ishan scoffed. “If they did, do you imagine the valley would remain a backwater? The moment our discovery becomes common knowledge, players will flood this sector.” Ishan’s eyes slid to the broken artifact. “And now that you’ve broken the shield generator, that is likely to happen anyway,” he finished bitterly.

I barely noticed, my mind preoccupied with something else. Hadn’t Talon told me the nether portal led to a Dark-controlled region of the Netherworld? Had he lied? I turned back to Ishan. “How can the Tartans not know about the rich dungeons? Doesn’t the valley’s nether portal connect to underground sectors controlled by the Dark?”

“Tartans,” Ishan sneered. “What do they know? Bloody smug-faced bastards. They think they’re better than everybody, but soon, very soon, they’ll find out the Awakened Dead are not to be trifled with. We will teach those scum what—”

“Ishan,” I said sharply, putting an end to his tirade.

The mage closed his mouth with a snap and looked at me. He was breathing heavily, and his face was flushed. He must really hate the Tartans.

“Just answer the damn question,” I said.

For a moment, Ishan remained rebellious, wanting to resume his rant, then he bowed his head. “That was unfortunate,” he said.

“What was?” I asked in confusion.

Ishan looked up. “Finding a path connecting our dungeon sectors with Tartan ones,” he clarified. “It complicated matters.”

I stared at him blankly. “You’re going to have to explain further.”

The mage sighed. “The plan—the original plan—had been to tell no one outside of the faction of our discovery, and at first, that worked well enough. Then, by accident, more than anything else, an Awakened Dead scout team, venturing through a dungeon exit portal, found themselves in a Tartan-controlled sector.” He shrugged. “After that, it was too late to keep the valley’s existence secret. We were forced to scrub the dungeons between this sector and the Tartan ones underground and give the other Dark factions limited access. But we told no one of the other, richer dungeon sectors.”

“Hmm,” I mused, processing the mage’s somewhat convoluted story.

Ishan, meanwhile, was shooting me dark glances. “This is all Erebus’ fault,” he muttered.

I glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“If he hadn’t insisted on locating his experiment here, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, would we? The goddess tried to tell him it was a bad idea, but Erebus wouldn’t listen.” The mage shook his head. “Bloody Power. Always thinks he knows best.”

I hid my amusement. Ishan seemed to hate everyone but himself and his goddess. “By experiment, you mean the candidate dungeon?”

The mage nodded. “That was another damned hair-brained scheme. Why, he—”

I raised my hand, cutting him off. Ishan, I feared, was about to begin another tirade, and I didn’t have time to listen to him rail again.

“So, Erebus deliberately started a war in the valley,” I said, bringing the conversation back on track. “You’re saying he would rather risk losing the sector than share in the spoils with his allies?” I asked dubiously.

Ishan glowered—still angry at me for silencing him, no doubt. “Yes,” he replied in a clipped tone.

I shook my head at the Power’s folly but then set it aside from consideration to think through the rest of the puzzle. “So... by having the Howlers and Red Rats fight each other, Erebus and Ishita delayed the goblin alliances and gave themselves an excuse for not providing the other Dark factions full access?”

“You’ve got it,” Ishan said. “And about damn time, too,” he added under his breath. The mage’s gaze drifted back to the antitoxin in my hand. “Now I’ve told you what you want,” he said more loudly. “Give me what you promised.”

I considered the sworn servant thoughtfully for a moment. Despite his less than gracious attitude, Ishan had told me what I wanted to know, and the state of affairs in this sector was finally beginning to make sense. “Alright, I—” I began.

“Not so fast,” a voice called out from behind.

I whipped around, my blade flying outwards to point unerringly at the approaching figure.

The newcomer was far from perturbed by my reaction and continued to stride nonchalantly toward me. Eyes narrowed, I studied the figure.

He was clothed in a tight-fitting garment patterned with black diamonds. On his head was a black and white striped cap. Completing his outfit was a pair of black shoes and a white face mask.

I lowered my blade. I knew him, of course.

It was Loken.

~~~

“You!” I heard Ishan gasp behind me. “What are—? You shouldn’t—”

Loken waved his hand, and an impenetrable white dome sprang into existence to surround the hapless Ishita sworn.

My gaze flickered back to the Shadow Power. He had come to a stop before me, standing casually with his arms folded and the fingers of one hand tapping against his face. “What did you do to him?” I asked while weaving a mind shield tight about myself.

Loken’s painted black lips spread in a wide grin. “What, no ‘hello?’ No, ‘thank you, Loken,’ or ‘oh my gosh, Loken, how did you get here?’”

I rolled my eyes.

The Power sighed dramatically. “It’s so hard to get proper appreciation these days,” he lamented.

“Enough with the antics, Loken.” I gestured to the corpses littering the cave. “I did this all on my own. I’ve no need to thank you. You haven’t done anything to help me.”

Leaning forward, the Shadow Power pressed one manicured forefinger against my chest. “Not yet, dear boy. Not yet.” He cocked his head to the side, eyes wide and inquisitive. “But it is to help you that you’ve called me, isn’t it?”

I bowed my head. “An impulse I’m already regretting,” I muttered under my breath.

“I heard that,” Loken said sharply.

I inclined my head in apology. “Sorry, I’m still a bit on edge from the fight.”

The Shadow Power waved his hand negligently. “No matter, my boy, all is forgiven.” Swinging away, Loken tiptoed around the cave, idly inspecting each of the bodies. “You do good work,” he pronounced approvingly.

Ignoring the Power’s remarks, I asked, “So I gather Benadean managed to deliver my letter after all?”

“He did,” Loken said, turning about to face me. “Quite a gamble you took, sending it to the Hamish and Spuren Trading Company. How did you know I was keeping an eye on the little gray merchant’s correspondences?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t. As you say, I took a gamble.”

Loken, of course, had been my backup plan.

I’d known my schemes in the sector could go disastrously wrong, and if that happened, I had wanted someone whom I could rely on in my corner.

Well, ‘rely on’ was perhaps an overstatement. Loken was not the dependable type, but I knew enough of the Power’s own goals to know he would gleefully wreck any of Erebus’ plans if he could. Which was why I had written to Loken about the nether portal in the valley, the shield woven about the sector, and my intention to destroy the artifact keeping it up. I’d also urged the Power to find me as soon as the shield was down.

What I hadn’t counted on, though, was being the scion of a fallen House when he arrived.

If I had known about my ancient bloodline when I sent the letter, I would never have risked entangling with Loken again. The capricious Power was too damned perceptive, and I most emphatically did not trust him with knowledge of my Wolf ties.

Damnit, I hope he doesn’t come to suspect anything.

Reminded by Loken’s visit that there were still several crucial Game messages awaiting my attention—not the least being the ones related to my Class evolution—I turned my eyes inwards and ran a cursory gaze over my player profile. A more detailed review of the Adjudicator’s messages would’ve to wait until later—when I had a moment alone.

Player Profile: Michael

Level: 76. Rank: 7. Current Health: 100%.

Stamina: 30%. Mana: 100%. Psi: 70%.

Species: Human. Lives Remaining: 3.

True Marks (hidden): Pack-brother.

False Marks (fabricated): Lesser Shadow, Lesser Light, Lesser Dark.

Classes

Available: 3 points.

Primary-Secondary Bi-blend: mindstalker (fabricated), mindslayer (hidden).

Tertiary Class: None.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Thankfully, the secret blood trait was doing its work well. That’s a relief.

“HELLO?” Loken called out. “Anyone there?”

I refocused on the Power. “Sorry. I got distracted for a moment.”

“Is this really the time to be checking your player profile?” he asked in exasperation.

“I said I was sorry,” I muttered. “What were you saying again?”

“I was congratulating you on your gambit,” Loken said, sounding miffed at having to repeat himself. “It was well-played. Congratulations.” The Power’s eyes drifted slowly from my face downwards and then back up again. “You’ve grown, too,” he said at last.

I nodded, remaining silent.

“But no third Class yet, I see. Still only a mindstalker then.” There was a hint of a question in Loken’s voice, and I strove hard not to react to it. Had I done something to rouse his suspicion?

“Like I’ve had time to go about hunting Class stones,” I scoffed, with what I thought was admirable conviction. “I’ve spent nearly every moment of every day trying to escape this damn sector.”

“You’re desperate to escape Erebus’ grasp, I imagine,” Loken said with a sly smile. “What with your non-aggression Pact about to run out.”

I scowled, less at his words and more to conceal my relief at the shift in topic. “How do you know about that?”

“I know far more than you believe, boy,” the Power replied with a chuckle.

Again, there was a dark undertone to Loken’s reply. Were his words a veiled threat?

“Why don’t you—” The Power broke off, his head jerking upwards to stare at the roof. “Can you please do something about that gnome?” Loken asked plaintively a moment later. “I do so hate being listened in on.”

My gaze tracked Loken’s, unsurprised that he had sensed Saya on the clifftop. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about the youth. “Let me fetch her,” I said. “Then we can get down to business.”