“What a time to be alive.”

Bolk Toven, the Alchemist of Summer’s elixir, at his two hundred and forty-first birthday party, mere weeks before his death.

Family members, longtime friends, were in the room in front of a wounded patient, the new town , with as many levels as she had fingers, struggling to try and staunch the bleeding of the middle-aged man’s wounds. Forana was desperately at work in her shop with her now- acting practically as extensions of herself. In her twenty years in the field of alchemical medicine, she had leveled ten times, the most recent several weeks ago, and before meeting the escaped prisoners and Marvin getting murdered, it had been two years since her last level. She had assumed she’d get to level 10 sometime in her early to mid 40s, and maybe reach the teens in her old age, but things were, praise the hills, looking a little better than that. Still, she was frantic, and worried greatly about her old friend.

In the forefront of everyone’s minds, one question screamed out, unvoiced: Why a Demon, of all things, here and now, after so much horror had already beset the formerly quiet village?

Level 11 earned!

gained!

Meanwhile, in a central courtyard, Sharron gave orders and organized defenses and healing. “We need to start building up the walls, reinforcing the watchtowers. I don’t care about costs; we need stronger defenses and we need them yesterday.”

Level 11 earned!

🠊 Level 11!

earned!

And around Drumlin, people leveled, some of them for the first time in years.

Level 12 gained!

gained!

An old lady sewing a hat smiled a tired smile.

Level 13 gained!

Class variant unlocked!

🠊

A fifty-year-old man, his head balding but his eyes sharp, wept and laughed at the same time.

Level 9 gained!

gained

A mustachioed man was calm for the first time in weeks.

Many more leveled too, but one of particular note jumps to the forefront.

Level 13 gained!

Class variant unlocked!

🠊 Level 13 earned!

gained!

And in his bed, his great wound bled a bit slower.

✶

“So, my . It seems every iota of the populace’s will is bent on unseating me. My scheming right hand is far away on some increasingly more foolish-seeming quest, and you, my left hand, my second-greatest servant, though not even one of my top five highest leveled ones, failed to hold off an ancient woman with a piece of unenchanted metal for more than a few moments, and dealt her a negligible blow.”

“I swear to you, my liege!” Prinner Wilholm spluttered, on his knees, head down in shame. “She attacked with the might of ten great warriors! But I leveled from my folly, Your Grace, and have become much stronger for it. I will soon outpace any or great you have marshaled on the field of battle, if you give me a little more time!”

“We have only a little more time left as it stands, you useless, simpering weasel. Days or weeks, months at most. You must level, and level quickly, or you will be useless to me in the end stage. Put down the revolt.”

“What do you mean, my lord?”

“Exactly what I said. Put down the revolt, single-handedly, marshalling no additional help from anyone. Do a great, historic deed, like Devoleon or Andrium, or even myself, did, to get to the levels we are. Or were, in that arrogant wizard’s case, Archons rest his foul soul. Go, now, and do as I say, or die trying. It’s the only way you’ll gain anything in this-- in this wretched world.” The Demon King’s voice perhaps softened a little uncharacteristically at the end of the last sentence.

Confused and fearful, but also burning with injured pride and a thirst to prove himself better than his forebears, he scurried away, out into the late day light, armed with only a crimson-stained axe and battered shield, off to the slaughter.

✶

“Two Demon attacks within three months. It used to be thirty, forty, fifty year gaps between each appearance, and now Lakeside got a Slaughter Demon after the old Chief Administrator, bless her soul, and an Artifice Demon after the new one. What’re we s’posed to do?” A town guard bemoaned, standing at the tall, reinforced iron gate that provided one of the two main entry or exit points from a rapidly advancing Lakeside, under a new, inspired, but still very much grieving, management.

His partner, a skinnier, more cynical-looking type, responded morosely with: “We’ll die, I expect.”

“Rory, that’s no way to talk now.” The first guard responded, aghast. “We’ve got teh keep morale up, so the Big Man says. B’sides, he’s got experience. Already level 20, you hear?” Why, old Baines was the highest level guy in town ‘sides Stina, a right geezer with eight decades in the bag, ‘e is, and he’s only level 17 or 18, somethin’ like that. And here comes this young-- or younger man, given how ‘is hair is still gray and his face still lined-- with tons of experience, and he’s already the highest level guy in town. That’s good luck, it is.”

“Look, Bob, I get that you’re trying to be upbeat, but don’t be thick. He got most of his levels from inheritance, like any high-class prick who hasn’t worked a day in his life, and he’s just coasting until he can get Baines or someone else to take his spot and skip town with enough gold in his satchel to go anywhere he pleases.”

“Now that’s just--” Bob started, before being cut off.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, I feel I have to interrupt.” Collin Walsh stepped out of the shadows, smiling wide.

“How long have yeh been listenin’, your greatness?” Bob asked nervously, while Rory rolled his eyes.

“Not very long, but I’ve caught the gist of your guys' conversation. I could use a Talent to make you like me, but that’ll wear off soon enough, and that kind of Talent always felt kind of tacky and unnatural, if I do say so myself. But I like to keep an in my community, and I like to know what people are really thinking of me.” He turned to Rory, who looked spooked and skeptical all at once. “You’re right to be irritated at me. I’m very new, I’m still living in the shadow of my mom in a lot of ways, and I inherited a lot of my power. On top of that, on a bigger scale, the world’s going to shit and Demons are everywhere you look. People are starving, people are going mad, whole major cities and roads are collapsing into anarchy and disrepair, and all the while it feels like Lakeside’s inching toward the same fate, with the man at the helm a wild card who just doesn’t seem very trustworthy.” Rory and Rob both nodded absently, though Bob caught himself and shook his head quickly.

Collin scratched his beard. “Look, I might not look or sound like much, but, to tell you the truth, I’m here for the long hall. I was gonna get in, as an interval Administrator until a better pick took over, but after recent events I’ve decided to stay. Not because of my blood, or because of my greed, but because I think I have a good shot at leading us through this storm. I’m dedicated to ensuring that, if nothing else, this town will be the last to fall to the Demons. My oath on it.”

sworn!

Level 22 earned!

✶

With a kind of desperate, ferocious, almost spiteful determination besetting scattered humanity amidst the gloom, the world began, in earnest, to end.