Valknar
patreon
Chapter 129
🕑 Added 2025-04-23 07:53:10 +0000 UTCI got a notification when Krag was restored.
Alert!
The eighth-floor guardian has developed a new skill.
Weapon Proficiency Mace: 1 – 0% (+1 DAM).
Weapon Proficiency increases as the user fights with the named weapon. Consisting of ten levels that grow.
This skill does not increase the Guardian's CP cost.
“Krag can improve then.”
Knowing this changes some things that I will do going forward. This weapon proficiency was a good start, but I wondered if there was more that could be gained. He might also develop an ability with his shield, and that would be quite an interesting pairing.
It was a limited ability skill but had no cost of stamina, meaning it would be active all the time. It was only one point of additional damage, but that could be more than enough to swing a fight.
It was something I could play with in the future, but for right now, there was not much I could do with it. I shifted my attention back to the Dungeon and went back to thinking about my plans for the next floor.
The dwarfs were gone, and a new team had entered the stairwell.
Queen might develop a new ability as well. I thought this as the new team wandered down the stairs. They bypassed the first and second floors and went to the third. The group did not look like much, but I checked him over with Mana Sight anyway. One or two minor enchantments, but nothing beyond that.
With all the adventurers that Krag had killed, I had gotten very little in the way of magical gear. This was a bit frustrating but, unfortunately, understandable as he generally did not leave much intact as he battered them to the floor and killed them. Both equipment and bodies typically did not last under that sort of pummelling.
The new team fought the first boar and competently moved together to take it down.
I had my plans but no resources. I had not been in this situation for quite some time, and I was getting bored and unable to tinker or experiment with things. I was still far from my next floor, so I had to learn to be patient again.
## ## ## ## ##
Bhaldor was aware of himself enough to know that he was not the centre of the world, as many are. Unfortunately, not all.
Everyone is the hero of their own story. Only a few know that they are the villains and that they are truly dangerous and monstrous.
What one person sees as a kind act, another could see as a terrible injustice.
Perspective is something that needs to be taken into account when judging one's actions and those of others.
To the north of the Dungeon, past the mountain range surrounding it, is the Skaald's lands—one of the largest areas of the continent off Kyber. These lands have suffered greatly since the fall of the old empire. Dangers, both ancient and new, have come to ravage the lands.
An old one has resurfaced. A were-plague once again stalks the land, infecting the population and sowing seeds of distrust and chaos. This particular variant of the plague is the wolf one. Depending on the scale of the infection, the infected might not even be aware that they carry the disease until it has progressed too far to be easily contained.
It starts with a bite. Then, at night, dreams come. As the infection spreads, the dreams bring transformation. This is normally when even the most stubbornly in denial infected must start to question. The transformations become longer and more profound until, finally, there is nothing but the beast left.
It is an old and known enemy. Silver is the answer to treat the infection at the start and kill the beast at the end.
The areas affected are sucking in silver from far and wide as merchants transverse the river roots, and the coastal trade tides bring silver to be traded for gold. They never stay long and quickly move on, knowing the danger.
This outbreak is acting a bit strangely. Instead of spreading like a stone hitting a pond and the ripples going out, it is moving southward more than any other direction. At first, this was not seen as odd, as sometimes this happened as the infection found a new avenue to spread.
But as the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months, those who understood the disease started to question. What was happening?
For some reason, new cases were constantly appearing in the South, and their attention was turned more to this direction to contain the new infected. Scouts and mages searched the area with both magical and mundane means. What they discovered there confused them even more.
A large pack of were-beasts was moving south, and they were the cause of the increasing number of infections. But that was not what confused him, as it appeared to all those who understood the patterns of those infected that the beasts were not migrating looking for new hunting grounds; they were being herded that way from something behind them.
This broached the question: what scared them to move away from it?
The affected are werewolves. On their own, they are fierce and powerful monsters that are difficult to kill unless you use extensive silver in your arsenal. In groups, they were even more dangerous as they naturally formed into packs and demonstrated a high level of cunning and intelligence when they went on the hunt. The group being driven South were a large pack, and typically, it would take many soldiers or adventurers to hunt them down and kill them. But whatever was behind them was scaring them enough that they were moving of their own accord.
They were following the main river South towards the mountain range that separated the Skaald lands from the Riverlands. Traders were once more plying the route, as it had been discovered to have been navigable once more. Many wondered what was pushing them South. Several attempts to identify what was pushing them had all failed. In many cases, the ravaged bodies of those sent were discovered by the teams coming up behind, trying to contain the continuous spread of the plague.
Magical means proved just as ineffectual, as whatever was out there could hide itself from the spells and divinations used to try to identify it. This only caused great concern among those aware of what was happening. As the weeks passed and the travel pattern became apparent, some started sending messages to those they trusted in the South, trying to understand their destination.
Eventually, those messages reached the city formed around a new Dungeon in the area. Within that city, a growing concern was building as they realised there was a good chance that that pack was being driven here.
## ## ## ## ##
“Are we sure they are coming here?” Ranus asked.
He asked the assembled group in his meeting room. Elian laid out the situation, and High Healer Selmum explained the basics of the were-plague infection.
The room went quiet at his question, with many looking around.
“Maybe. The odds are good, and we need to be ready.” Averance had spoken after a sigh, watching the other's reactions. “If Rickle is not laughing at us, they will bypass the city.”
Most of the people in the room did not believe they were that lucky as Rickle was notorious for not coming to people's aid, or sometimes he did.
“How do we think they will reach the city.” Ranus had to get them focused on the worst possible scenario.
“Their route will have them reach the mountain's northern site in about two weeks to twenty days. From there, they will follow the river route through the mountains. We can expect the local monster population to resist if they think they're strong enough. Once they reach the lake at the centre of the mountain range, if they take the turning towards us, then we know that we are their ultimate destination.“ Albrot spoke up.
“Is our defence strong enough?” Nextom asked as he looked at the map of the area on the wall of the meeting room.
“That is hard to say. We have the palace aid, which has been reinforced on the valley's northern side. As long as they come down that way, which is the most likely if they're heading this way, we have a good defensive position to work from.” Danrum was looking over the figures to see what manpower was available. “We must assume that the pack heading this way awfully converted were beasts. This means that they can and will assault the wall. With the local adventurer population, militant orders and the Watch. I believe we can hold any assault off.”
“I have been stockpiling silver for a little while now, so we at least have some on hand to use,” Ranus said, looking into the distance away from the group.
“Can we ask the Dungeon for more?” Amya asked, her voice sounding more hesitant than usual.
“No. Anytime I deal with the dungeon, it comes with a price. I have yet to fully pay off what is owed, and I do not want to get into further debt with it.” Ranus’s voice was firm, and his mind was clear with its decision. No one else in the group raised any more questions on that front as they, too, agreed with him. What's the weather aware of the inherent dangers of relying on the Dungeon to save them? “No, we must deal with this danger when it arrives.”
## ## ## ## ##
Stepping out of the shadows into Oda’s study was an unpleasant experience for him. He had this ability for quite a few centuries but never enjoyed using it. Oda had taught him, and he only used it when required. Speaking of the old fool, he was sitting at his desk waiting for him.
If a mortal were here, they would see the view as an old but vibrant man sitting behind a desk reading a document. As a divine being, he saw far more. He saw the power that made up the head of the pantheon and how his Mantles were represented through that power.
There was a desk, and he was sitting behind it. Above it floated what they called a holographic image of his project—the Dungeon that the mortals called the Tower in the Shadows.
“Rickle, you're on time. How is your overseeing going?” Oda looked up and spoke.
“It is going well for the moment, but some problems are on the horizon,” I said as I walked towards the desk. I was nervous, but I was doing my best to hide it. I was going to have a conversation with him, which I was not looking forward to.
As I approached, Oda stood and walked around from the other side, motioning me to follow. They walked across the room to where the world scale was hidden, and Oda revealed it. I had seen it many times in the past, and I was always slightly in awe of it. But now I could see the twisting of the scales. The two courts were still in balance, but the structure representing them was somehow becoming corrupted. Twisted.
“My investigations are proving to be less successful.” Oda was frowning. “Whoever has triggered this crisis has covered their tracks extremely well. Thankfully, the fail-safe I implemented is working according to plan.”
I looked at him while he was focused on the world scales and then back at the floating image above his table. This was not the first time he had said that to me, and again, I found it…... odd.
It made sense when he explained to me that he had hidden knowledge of what he had truly done away from himself through the other gods of the pantheon to allow him a free hand. However, as I learned more about the Core’s function as the hidden overseer of this new Dungeon, I started to see strange events and choices appear.
Oda had claimed in the past that this was all part of his plan, but the more I thought about it and reviewed what he had created, the more I doubted. The Dungeon was never meant to have become this large as fast as it had. It was preparing the way for its ninth floor when, truthfully, if I had read the hinted-at predictions right, it should only be reaching its fourth at best. He had done his best to cripple its ability to develop right from the start.
I needed to say something and watch his reaction because something about all this did not sit right with me anymore. He was a master planner, but too much about this seemed wrong. Conflict and rushed were the best descriptions, but there was an undertone of something else.
“It's fast approaching the Underland’s. I don't think it will reach them with this floor, but there's a good chance the tenth will break through.”
“Hmmm. Yes, it has grown faster than expected, but it's still within… the plan I laid out.”
There it was—a slight flicker of uncertainty or confusion. I could not tell what, but it was there.
“We are both beings of balance, Rickle. That is why I knew I could trust you and that you had not been corrupted. You have always maintained the flow of luck through this world and show no favour to either side.”
I remembered the days before I became the God of luck. When I was known as the Thief of Fortunes, I danced across the world laughing as I stole everything I desired. I progressed along my path until the day I was offered the Mantle of the God of Luck. On the day I accepted, I thought I had run the ultimate prize, but I quickly realised the terrible burden it truly was.
Oda helped me find my place in the pantheon, and I was, in fact, a truly neutral deity standing with no court. I spent many centuries with the old fool; I knew him quite well, but at first, I didn't spot it until recently. Something was off about him. It was not something that I could point to and say, “There, that's what's wrong;” it was something more insidious.
Now, I was sure I needed to understand what was really going on here, so I had someone else do the questioning. I also needed to remain in his good graces, just in case.
