Chapter 3 #3
“No,” said the Emanation, his tone sheepish.
“A white lie. Lord Alabenthos wished to see if you knew aught of mercy, if you could keep your head while in the thick of peril. And that you did! Had you attacked me, well.” He tapped his bronze toy against the other palm. “I would have been most disappointed.”
“Damn.” Harald chuckled and sat back. “And there I was, thinking I’d earned the upper hand.”
“That you pushed me into my Sanctified Form is no mean feat for a squishy young human such as yourself! I had not anticipated needing such a recourse. I am being honest with you when I say I am impressed. As is Lord Alabenthos.”
“What level equivalent would you be, if you were a raider?”
“Equivalent?” Brauxis paused to think. “My prized claim of redoubtable deeds of arms is to have slain a potent Level 58 servant of Vorakhar.”
Harald blanched. “Level 58!?”
“Of the dungeon. It was during an assault on his Throne of Shadow. I slew the demon Emanation by my lonesome, though at great cost. I would hazard… were I a human raider?” He chuckled. “It is hard to say, but perhaps… Level 14?”
Harald’s head rocked back. “Level 14.” His voice was weak and seemed to come from very far away.
“Indeed! Not as potent as many. Lord Alabenthos, as holy as he may be, is but the least of the Angel Lords fighting in the Celestial War, and I am but Fourth Ranked.”
“You were playing with me.”
“I was not!” Brauxis leaned forward. “I was taking your measure, and I declare myself impressed. Well done!” He stood.
“Now. I shall alert the others as promised that you are awake. They have scarcely been away from your side all the while you slept. Then, I am sure, Lord Alabenthos will call for you. He has deemed you worthy of a trial.”
“Our duel wasn’t enough?”
“Ho, you jest! Very amusing, very amusing indeed.” The huge Emanation stomped over to the door. “You will soon be leaving the 33rd Level. Before you go…?”
A wistful tone had entered the angel’s voice.
“Sure.” Harald cracked a smile. “I know he’d love to come out and play.” And with a flexion of his will, he summoned Shadowpaw back into the world.
The huge hound manifested out of the whirling darkness, his ears already pricked, and it warmed Harald’s heart that he turned first to snuffle at his palm before his attention was lured away by Brauxis, who had pulled another gigantic hydra steak from somewhere behind his back.
With a delighted growl, the Shadow Mastiff leaped at the Emanation, who boomed out a laugh and retreated into the hallway.
Harald couldn’t help but grin as he listened to the pair retreat down the hall, Shadowpaw snarling and barking as he no doubt sought to tear the steak free, Brauxis laughing and admonishing the hound on the virtues of patience.
Then his smile slipped. The combat hadn’t been close. Damn. And he’d been feeling like a lethal predator there for a moment, Brauxis’ life in the palm of his hand. Perhaps even now the Emanation underestimated the power of Chyron’s Scourge… but probably not.
Voices, footsteps, and then his friends appeared in his doorway.
“Are you feeling better?” asked Sam, moving quickly to take his hand.
“Much.” He forced a smile. “Kársek, you have my sincere thanks. Without your wisdom…”
The dwarf moved to claim Brauxis’ stool, where he drew out his pipe. “My pleasure, Harald. My pleasure.”
“It was inspiring to watch,” allowed Nessa, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms. “From where we were sitting, you both looked evenly matched.”
“That’s because Brauxis was…” Toying with me, he wanted to say. “Getting my measure. Per Alabenthos’ orders. But have you heard anything about this trial we’re to go on? Another test?”
Sam’s expression grew conflicted, her smile tight, her eyes bright. “Yes. A little. You’ve earned us the right to strike a blow for Alabenthos in the Celestial War.”
“He’s sending us into battle?”
“Aye,” agreed Kársek, taking a contented puff from his pipe. “Though we’ve yet to hear the details.”
Nessa shook her head. “Vic might have had the right of it. If we agree, it’ll be a glorious death.”
Harald looked from one to the next. “Well? What is it?”
“All we know,” said Sam softly, “is that it will involve journeying down through the levels of the dungeon. Down to the 41st Level. There’s something there Alabenthos needs destroyed.”
“The 41st? We’re on the 33rd. We’re to descend eight entire levels?”
Nessa’s expression had grown hard. “When we could barely survive the 28th.”
“That was before,” said Sam. “We’ve all gained levels since then. And powerful Artifacts.”
“Even so,” said Nessa.
“But to destroy what?” asked Harald.
“Something of the demons, for sure. But that’s what we’ll find out.” Sam squeezed his hand. “This is it. What we’ve been wanting. To fight for the forces of the light. How can we refuse?”
“Quite easily,” said Nessa. “If we deem the request impossible.”
Harald rose from the bed to stand tall. “Guess there’s only one way to find out. Shall we go seek that audience?”
Kársek sighed, took one last puff from his pipe, then stood. “Let us be about our business.”
And together, the friends strode into the hall.