“When?” asked a hulking ogre with a silvery collar around his thick neck. He rolled his massive shoulders and leaned back against the barracks’ wall. With a sigh that felt so forceful it might rattle the walls, he added, “Been months, elf. When’s this savior comin’?”

“Soon,” said Jasper, glancing at the other slave. Despite the huge disparity in strength, he didn’t fear the ogre. Indeed, when Zeke had left on his expedition into the demon realm, he’d broken Jasper’s restrictions. So, unlike the other slaves, he had access to his skills. That was enough to ensure that he had nothing to fear, even from someone like Karg.

Not unless the huge ogre took him by surprise.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Jasper had grown up in Tesh, a city where everyone was out to get everyone else. It was the basic tenet upon which dark elf culture had been built. Self-interest above all. So, watching his own back had become second nature.

No – he wasn’t afraid of Karg. He was afraid that Zeke would fail to show up. Already, he was late, so it wasn’t difficult to imagine that he’d perished in that corrupted and mysterious realm on the other side of the portal. According to all the stories Jasper had heard, once someone was selected for the expedition forces, death was inevitable. The only question was how long they would last.

Zeke was different, though. He could snap the restrictive collars without difficulty, and he’d survived battles with much higher-tiered enemies. Jasper had seen it with his own eyes. If anyone could survive the demon realm, it was his barbaric ally. That was the only reason Jasper had agreed to gather support among the other slaves.

“Have faith, my friend,” said Jasper, reaching out to pat Karg on the bulging bicep. His skin was rough, much like the hide of a beast. “He will come, and he will save us all. You will see.”

“Faith,” snorted Karg, the world punctuated by a rumble in the earth. Of late, those tremors had become more frequent, and given that Jasper knew their source – the wyrm far beneath their feet – he had more reason than most to feel a spike of fear each time they shook the mines. But he did his best to ignore it, focusing on Karg’s response.

If Jasper hadn’t seen the things he had seen, he might’ve harbored a similar attitude. After all, clinging to such a concept when mired in slavery was a difficult – nearly impossible, really – thing. But Jasper knew Zeke’s power. He had seen it with his own two eyes. And he had chosen to believe.

He had chosen to have faith.

However, every passing day chipped away at that great monument of belief. It had yet to fall, but Jasper knew it couldn’t endure indefinitely. Eventually, it would crumble to dust, and when that happened, he questioned whether or not he’d have the energy to continue. Even the question was a sign that his faith in Zeke had weakened, but try as he might, he couldn’t completely banish the doubts from his mind.

Because Zeke was late.

For the past weeks, Jasper had followed his instructions, spreading the word among the slaves that salvation was coming. For the more trustworthy ones, he’d explained more, but for most, he’d simply cautioned them to be ready to fight for their freedom. And it had worked. The slaves were so desperate for any sliver of hope that they’d latched onto Jasper’s promises like the lifeline they represented. But increasingly, they’d begun to look at him with shifty eyes. How long would it take them to brand him a liar? When would they turn on him? Soon, he knew.

Just then, someone burst through the barracks’ door and shouted, “Something’s going on!”

Jasper immediately leaped to his feet and demanded, “What is it? Are the dwarves –”

“They’re all leaving!” said the newcomer, bending down to catch his breath. “Every last one of them. Even the guards. They didn’t say anything or leave any instructions. They just gathered into a column and marched away.”

“What direction did they go?”

“Up? Maybe back to the main city. I don’t know,” said the messenger. He was a thin half-elf whose human side was far more prominent than any elf heritage. His ears were barely even pointed, and he had blunt features no real elf would ever possess. Still, Jasper didn’t look down on him. Not like some of his fairer skinned cousins. Dark elves were isolationist, cynical to a fault, and brutally self-serving, but they treated everyone with equality. Race never even came into the equation. Some of the other elven species had decidedly different ideas on that front.

“Is it happenin’?” asked Karg, rising to his feet. His head brushed against the ten-foot ceiling, so he had to slouch his shoulders to avoid hitting the beams.

“Let’s find out,” Jasper said, hope blooming anew in his heart.

Then, he pushed past Karg and the newcomer, and exited the barracks. Many of the other slaves had the same idea, and they’d begun to congregate in a group at the center of the huge cave that held the camp. There were hundreds more such chambers throughout the mountain, each one housing a couple hundred slaves.

All in all, Jasper estimated that the enslaved workforce was at least ten thousand strong. Maybe more. Maybe less. The number fluctuated according to new acquisitions and the inevitable mortality rate. Still, it was a formidable force, especially if each of them had access to their skills.

The ground rumbled again, and someone shouted, “Earthquake!”

Then, it trembled again, and an explosion of dust and rock erupted from one of the tunnels. A moment later, the broken and battered bodies of a dozen dwarves followed, landing forty or so feet from the mouth of the tunnel. Jasper didn’t need to check their vitals to know that they were all dead.

“Our savior comes!” he yelled, letting none of his uncertainty into his voice. In truth, he had no idea if Zeke had arrived; it was probably more likely that some powerful monster had climbed through the tunnels and stumbled upon the mining camp. But Jasper knew just how close the other slaves were to losing hope.

How close he was to giving in to despair.

The gathered slaves gasped in surprise that soon became a full-throated and collective cheer. The ground trembled again, and the ferocity of the cheers intensified. Another rumble, and it became a roar as the slaves threw their hands up in elation. All the while, Jasper continued to yell, “He has come to save us all!”

Then, a monster emerged from the tunnel.

It was at least fifteen feet tall, with big, blocky limbs that looked like they’d been made from raw ore. Small, crystalline spikes of deep purple jutted from random points, and its face was an implacable and expressionless mask that might’ve been intended to mimic a human façade.

It took another step, and the ground shook beneath its massive weight. The slaves screamed, though the tenor of their reaction had changed completely. Only a few seconds before, they had been elated. Now, they were terrified.

So was Jasper, and he shrank back in fear. A second later, he started tapping his fingers against his hip in the staccato beat that helped him to focus [Rhythm of the March]. Without a weapon, he couldn’t hope to fight the monster. However, with his {Troubadour} skills, he could speed himself and his allies up to the point where they could escape.

But before that, he remembered to utilize [Musician’s Insight] to inspect the creature, and when he saw the description flash before his inner eye, he let out a gasp of surprise. It read:

Ezekiel Blackwood – Level 40 – Highest Stat: Strength, Lowest Stat: Agility, Weakness: Wind, Holy – Caution: This creature is much more powerful than its level indicates.

“He has come!” Jasper bellowed. “The savior has arrived!”

There were ways to trick an inspection skill, but Jasper had taken great pains to evolve his into a class-specific and much more powerful version. It gave him the ability to assess strengths and weaknesses, but the evolution made it much more difficult to trick as well. As such, he felt reasonably sure that his friend had, indeed, returned.

Even if his description had changed a little. For one, he’d gained a handful of levels, and in a very short amount of time. But given that he’d been in the demon realm, that probably wasn’t so surprising. More, he’d clearly unlocked a new skill that allowed him to transform into some sort of earthen monstrosity. Again – not that surprising, given his attunement. But what brought Jasper up short was Zeke’s newly-gained weakness to holy mana.

Only demons and, to a lesser degree, the undead were afflicted with such weaknesses.

Still, Jasper stepped forward with confidence, saying, “My friend, you have returned more powerful than ever! Has the time come?”

Zeke looked his way, and Jasper nearly stepped back from the intensity of the creature’s sightless gaze. Then, the figure began to shrink. The metal, rock, and crystal dissolved into glittering motes of mana, and in only a few seconds, Zeke had regained his familiar, human form.

He grinned. “Sorry I’m late. I got a bit held up.”

* * *

Zeke touched the collar around the ogre’s neck, and with only a little of his runic Will, he shattered the binding’s restrictions. Ever since developing the Runebreaker technique, it felt like his abilities had shifted slightly. Certainly, he could still visualize his skills well enough, but most runes outside his body felt more complex than ever before.

Unless his aim was to break them. In that case, he felt more powerful than he had before, and even the most restrictive of the collars easily fell before him.

“It’s your path narrowing,” Eveline stated. “The more you progress, the more specific your path. You started off with a wealth of possibilities, but each choice you make narrows the focus until you’ll become almost completely specialized. Of course, with two paths, you will be more versatile than most, but your days of being able to do anything you want are far behind you.”

That made some sense to Zeke, but he still gave it some thought as another slave – a tiny gnome with a beard that scraped the floor – came before him. He destroyed the restrictive runes of the gnome’s collar before moving on to the next. As he progressed through the gathering of slaves, he considered his future.

Immediately, he planned to free the rest of the slaves and escape from Min Ferilik. Some, he hoped would join him. In other cases, he would send them on their way. Hopefully, that decision wouldn’t come back and bite him later, but he couldn’t in good conscience leave anyone enslaved.

After that, he wanted to find his friends and…well, he hadn’t really considered that far ahead. Certainly, he knew he needed to continue to progress, but given his conversations with Eveline, he recognized that he had more control over his path than he’d once thought. And he didn’t want to make any mistakes. Already, he’d closed himself off from creating true enchantments. He could still manage basics, but anything more than that was beyond him. Perhaps he could change that with time and practice, but he wouldn’t have the benefit of the Framework’s assistance.

And with the enigmatic nature of paths, as well as his own personality, that meant he’d probably never figure it out.

Still, it was possible. However, if he continued the way he was going, that would eventually change. So, he needed to decide whether or not he wanted to focus on skills and unraveling runes, rather than creating and modifying enchantments.

“If you want my input –”

“I don’t,” Zeke said in his own mind. “I need to figure this out on my own.”

Eveline didn’t respond, but Zeke could feel that she wasn’t particularly happy about that. She liked being the one pulling the strings, and when he didn’t allow it, she got a bit annoyed. Still, as much as he wanted to keep the peace between his resident mind spirit, Zeke knew that his path was something he needed to figure out on his own. Anything else, and the results wouldn’t be nearly so potent.

He continued to ponder the situation as the slaves were freed. Jasper and a few others he’d recruited kept things moving smoothly, and soon enough, the restrictions had been completely lifted. Zeke looked around, and he saw nothing but smiling faces. Some of those slaves had been imprisoned for decades, so finally regaining access to their skills would require some time for acclimation. Others were clearly ready to put their abilities to good use, and they seemed eager to make the dwarves pay for enslaving them.

Zeke cleared his throat and raised his voice, “I can’t make you help me, but I intend to free every slave in Min Ferilik. Already, my people are battling the dwarves, but they can’t hope to defeat them alone. With our help, we can break through the city and gain our freedom. So, I’m asking for volunteers. I need help.”

Zeke trailed off, then added, “If you want to sit it out, I can still protect you. I’ll put you somewhere safe, and when we’ve won the battle and reached the surface, I will release you.”

“That was a terrible speech,” Eveline remarked. “You’ll never be a proper dictator with oration skills like that.”

“It wasn’t a speech,” Zeke said inwardly. “I was just letting them know how it is.”

“Well, it was still terrible.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Zeke drily replied. It was getting easier to hold mental conversations.

Jasper shouted, “We’ve been imprisoned and enslaved. We’ve all lost friends. Some of you have lost family. Today, we get our vengeance! Today, we make our evil wardens pay for their vile actions! Who’s with us!”

The other slaves let out a collective roar, and Eveline said, “He’s a lot better at this than you. Can I latch onto his brain?”

“Be my guest,” Zeke muttered as the crowd of former slaves worked themselves into a frenzy.

Over the next few minutes, Jasper continued to excite the crowd before they got down to the business of directing traffic. Some of the slaves were crippled or injured, so Zeke intended to put them in the Crimson Tower with the kobold young, but most were hearty enough to fight. Those, he sent ahead to defeat any dwarves who hadn’t retreated back to the main city.

Meanwhile, Zeke and Jasper moved out, intending to visit each and every slave camp so they could free the captives and, hopefully, inflate their numbers. Eventually, they made their way to the pits, where Zeke took great pleasure in freeing a surly Eta. However, her freedom wasn’t met with joy or elation; instead, she only grew angrier. As thick thorns grew from her tree-like body, she kept muttering about Feran.

That’s when Zeke discovered why Eta had been so detached the last time he’d seen her. Apparently, just before he’d gained the opportunity to head into the demon realm, the dwarves had pitted Eta against Feran, with the possum-like dirble ending up on the losing end of the fight. It was no wonder that the dryad was so hellbent on vengeance.

It took most of an entire day to free the slaves, but it would have taken much longer if the dwarves hadn’t already retreated to the city pillar. That was okay with Zeke. If they proved too tough a nut to crack, he would just collapse the main tunnels and leave them to rot as he and the others escaped to the surface.

“You realize there’s absolutely no way it’ll be that easy,” Eveline said as they ascended toward the city.

“Nothing ever is, Eveline,” he said. “Nothing ever is.”