“Harp?” Dallion shouted. “Nox! Lux! Nil!”

There was no answer. Stranger still, there was no sign of them. While having Nox be invisible in complete darkness, Lux should have been clearly visible, not to mention that the harpsisword should have been able to respond. Dallion was still clutching to the weapon, or at least he thought he was. Just to be on the safe side, he checked, feeling the blade and strings of the harpsisword with his free hand. It was undoubtedly there, as was the shield.

“Arthurows!” Dallion shouted. “Is this one of your tricks again?”

Try as he might, Dallion was unable to see anything, even using his music skills. It was as if he had ended up in the center of an endless, cold void. Even the floor beneath his feet seemed to have vanished. Dallion was standing on something, but it wasn’t stone; it felt more like an air bubble of some sort, or levitation.

Slowly, he took a step forward. Gravity was still present. That was a huge plus. Most of his senses, aside from his sight, were also present, although slightly distorted. His hearing had remained intact, although his sense of touch was somewhat numbed. As for taste and smell… they were stronger than ever, making him feel as if he were in a tar pit. The sensation was unpleasant, but bearable. However, it still didn’t answer the most basic questions of all—where was he.

From what he could remember, just moments ago Dallion had been in the final guardian chamber facing Arthurows—who apparently was the Star—then he had suddenly ended up here. It still remained unclear where “here” was, although Dallion had his suspicions.

“Lux, if you can hear me, set this thing on fire!” Dallion shouted.

After several seconds, when it became clear that nothing would happen, Dallion tried to play a chord on the harpsisword. Normally he wouldn’t have an issue, even without being able to see he had improved his music skills to the point he could play with eyes closed. This time, though, no sounds came out. The strings didn’t even vibrate properly, as if they were submerged in water… or more likely in tar.

“Nice trick, isn’t it?” Arthurows’s voice echoed all around. “It’s been a while since a musician tried doing that. I must admit, I find it amusing. Of all the people that would struggle, musicians were the most fun. Unlike the rest they used their heads, trying to emotion their way out of the jab, instead of hacking in the air.”

Hearing that, Dallion immediately made a circular slash with his harpsisword. The blade sliced through the darkness, creating a whitish line behind. For fragments of a second Dallion imagined seeing through into the chamber. Alas, the line disappeared just as quickly as it had been formed.

“Told you,” Arthurows laughed.

“I know. That’s why I had to try.”

“Ah, typical Earth attitude. What will you do next? Start singing? For someone who’s increased his music skills to such a point, you’re really bad at it.”

Despite the circumstances he was in, Dallion felt more annoyed by this comment than anything that had happened in the last hour. Who was Arthurows to insult him like that?

“You barely show any feeling, have no songs of your own, and always do it in such a rush as if you’re desperate to go to the toilet. A proper bard would have savored the experience and through doing so let others enjoy it as well.”

“You were in that line of work, I take it?” Dallion looked around, trying to find the source of the voice.

“Just an observer. More critic than artist, I’d say. They again, why do that when I can get talent for free?”

Black tendrils darted towards Dallion, completely invisible in the background. Dallion, however, didn’t rely on a single sense to notice threats. With a three-sixty leap, he twirled in the “air” slashing the space around him as he did. The sensation of cutting through jelly let him know he was successful in countering most of the attacks. The burning sensation of rubber on his left shoulder told him that he had missed one.

“Annoying, isn’t it?” Arthurows laughed. “The pain isn’t that bad since we’re still in an awakening realm, but the smell… I can tell you stories.”

Clutching onto his sword, Dallion tried to tear off the thick substance on his shoulder. The scorching sensation went up his fingers into his entire arm, forcing him to pull it away. Whatever the tar was, it was here to stay.

“There was a time when the people of this world went through a tar baptism. Those that didn’t respect the will of the deities were taken to a pit of reflection where living tar covered them, letting them know who’s boss in this world.”

“Really?” Dallion asked, despite the discomfort.

“No, but it’s a good story, right?” Arthurows laughed again. “But hey, who am I to judge? If you want it to be true, it might be true. Heck, maybe this only occurs to the chosen heroes of this world. Just think about it: you came here to save the city of Nerosal from my influence and succeeded. They will sing songs about you. Of course, they’ll also include the part of you succumbing to my influence and turning into a monster that raged through the city until you had to be put down. A real tragedy.”

Dallion extended his right arm forward, using the edge of the harpsisword to shave off as much of the substance as possible. This seemed to work as chunks of hardened rubbery substance peeled off. Sadly, that didn’t get rid of the complete numbness that had taken hold of his entire shoulder.

“I won’t become a chainling,” Dallion said in defiance.

“Who said anything about turning you into a chainling? Also, who said it’s your choice. You’re already here, which means that Moons can’t help you. In this place all bets are off. I can slice you to a thousand pieces and use you for sudoku practice and no one could do a thing.”

Sudoku practice? Humor wasn’t Arthurows’ strong suit.

“You know there’s a bit of irony here,” the Star went on. “Two generations ago, your grandfather did the same thing to someone else.” There was a short pause. “He transformed a person into the exact same monster you’re becoming, all for personal gain. And for a while, he got it. But there’s always a reckoning.”

Don’t give in, the male voice said in Dallion’s head. If everything was a foregone conclusion, why would he still be talking to you? Despite all his claims, he’s still bound to the laws of the dagger and the Seven Moons. Use that.

What if he just wants to torment me? Dallion asked in his thoughts. What if you’re him?

In that case you’ll be in deep crap. I’m not here to help you or to give you false hope. I’m just here to tell you that if you can’t save yourself, no one can. However, that doesn’t mean you have to go about it all alone. Remember, you already have everything you need.

Dallion wanted to groan. Taking a deep breath, he recited the names of the Seven Moons. Once again, that put his thoughts in perspective. The trick Hannah had told him seemed to work every time—the Moons did still have power in this place. Maybe things weren’t hopeless after all?

Ignoring the pain, Dallion reflected on the situation. The best way to act was to treat this as a puzzle. Arthurows had placed him in a small dark room, or rather a cocoon of tar. Since Dallion was still himself, there was something that kept the chainlinging to take place, and the very same thing could well let him escape.

I have everything I need, Dallion thought.

There was the obvious: he still had his harpsiswird, his armadil shield, the armor Eury had made for him, as well as the dartbow. Technically, he also had his two rings, but they weren’t particularly useful at present. Then there were the skills he had. Music didn’t seem to be of much help and neither was guard and attack. Possibly forging?

“He wasn’t alone when he came here, you know,” Arthurows went on. “There were two more with him. His folly sentenced them all.”

“And what about you? How did you end up like this?”

“Who says I did?” Laughter echoed throughout the darkness.

Now Dallion could tell that he was lying. There was that slight note of uncertainty in his voice that a music level of thirty could detect with ease.

I have everything I need, Dallion repeated to himself. If it wasn’t a skill and it wasn’t an item… maybe it was a combination of the two? The harpsisword had been the one thing that Arthurows had feared more than anything else when they had fought. Thus, it stood to reason that—

“Meow?”

The sound startled Dallion, almost making him jump. Instinctively, he looked in the direction where he’d heard it. Initially, the only thing he saw was darkness, but after a few moments something else appeared—scar marks.

Nox, once this is over, you’ll have a treat from me! he thought. This was yet another instance of his familiar helping him escape a desperate situation. The cub had shredded through the darkness, creating a link to the outside. Arthurows had tried to mask this by bending the darkness over the spot, like pulling layers of curtains over a window to keep the light from coming in. However, even then he couldn’t hide the actual scars. One of the advantages of being the embodiment of damage was that cracklings left marks that showed in anything.

“Nox, clean the strings!” Dallion shouted.

Both the cackling and Arthurows figured out what Dallion’s plan was. Nox turned out to be faster. With perfect precision he created a crack along the tarry substance over the harpsisword strings without harming them in the least.

Gasping the opportunity, Dallion played a chord. The strings vibrated, covering the entire weapon with a soft blue glow. Sounds filled the air, like a warm summer breeze.

“Little mutt,” Arthurows hissed.

The darkness unraveled unto a mess of strands, returning Dallion to the guardian chamber once more. The strands then merged together. It was not Arthurows that they created, though, it was the Star itself—a faceless human silhouette entirely of pure darkness.

Keeping the initiative, Dallion played another chord while slashing at the entity with an arc attack. The attack was met with a rectangular blade composed of darkness.

“The Moons won’t help you forever,” the thing that was Arthurows replied. A single star flickered on its forehead before disappearing into darkness. “Sooner or later, they’ll let you down.”

A loud pop filled the room. A blink of the eye later, the Star was gone.

“Did we win?” Dallion asked, uncertain if this was another trick. Arthurows had deceived him so many times before, it was natural for him to fake his death as well. “Did will kill him?”

No, a voice made of harp sounds said in his mind. But he’s gone.

DAGGER Level 5 has been cleared

Claim the focus that suits you best.

The blue rectangle appeared, confirming Dallion’s victory. And a victory it was—Dallion might not have defeated the Star, but he had managed to keep himself from becoming a chainling. In the back of his mind, he knew that the entity would be back to continue the scheme it had set up, but at least this day was his.

“Tweek!” Lux chirped from Dallion’s shoulder with a yawn. The firebird seemed immune to the tension that had taken place, preferring to nap. Then again, if it wasn’t for it, Dallion would have lost the fight a dozen times.

“Thanks,” Dallion said, pressing the perception rectangle. After such an experience the whole leveling up felt like an afterthought. “I owe this to you all.”

The familiars didn’t say a word. Just as they were familiars, they were also part of him, part of his realm, as the harpsisword had become.

“I owe you everything.” Fatigue kicked in. His legs started trembling, forcing him to get to the ground. Even a level thirteen awakened could only take so much pressure.

Dal? Nil’s voice sounded in his head. What happened? You were gone for a while.

“A lot of things happened.” Dallion smiled. He had so much to share with the rest of the guild.