The Retired S Ranked Adventurer (The Shatterfist Book 1)

by Wolfe Locke

  The void wraith faced him, glowing brighter as its attack built strength. It cackled gleefully, eyes red, fog churning around it.

  "It’s a race, then Shatterfist. A gambler, are you? That explains that pauper’s outfit." it said. "Who’s going to finish their attack first? I think it’ll be me!"

  Sven hoped the wraith was wrong. If it was able to complete its death attack, things would go very, very badly for them. At least for the kids. I don’t have an ability to shield them from a death attack.

  "Ash?" he said, trying to speak and cast at the same time. "Maybe throw up a [Shield]? Just in case?"

  "Already on it!" she said, surrounding herself and the party with a glowing purple net. "But, uh, I can’t include you, you know. Otherwise, your attack wouldn’t get through!"

  "I can take care of myself," Sven said, teeth gritted. "Noted though, just protect them since I can’t."

  His fists were glowing with golden light, bright with the core of his power. Sven grinned in spite of himself. If he was able to unleash it, it would be one of the most powerful [Tremor Blasts] he’d ever done. There was no one there to see it but him, the Wraith, and Ash—but hopefully Ash, at least, would be impressed.

  "Moving slowly, Shatterfist. Age hasn’t been kind to you." the wraith said. It was so bright by this point it was hard to look at it. "Too slow. You and yours will make fine skeletons to decorate my lair. Looking forward to it!"

  Sven ignored the void wraith. It was just trying to throw him off his game. He was almost ready. His fists felt like they were on fire, barely containing the sum of all the force he could muster.

  "Sven?" Ash said. Her voice was distant and distorted as if she was at the other end of a massive tunnel. "Sven, hurry up!"

  If he tried to respond, he’d lose that tentative grasp on that line of power. He ignored her too. Three seconds. Three, two, one—

  "Ahhhhh!" Ash screamed.

  "Ahhhhhh!" Sven roared as he unleashed [Tremor Blast], and a massive explosion rocked the entire dungeon.

  "Ahahahaha!" the wraith cackled maniacally as it launched its attack at the very same time.

  The two attacks collided, and the wraith’s wall of spectral blue fire slammed into Sven’s bolt of white light.

  "It’s not too late!" the wraith screamed. "Give up now and I’ll let you go. Just give me these four souls and you and the girl walk free."

  "Not gonna happen!" Sven shouted, pouring more power into his attack.

  The wraith was stronger than he’d anticipated, but he knew he could beat it. He’d done it before—although much less was at stake then. Maybe things got harder the more you had to lose. Maybe he’s right, I’m getting older too. My power isn’t what it used to be.

  The blue fire was getting closer, and the wraith roared triumphantly. Sven’s stomach dropped. The most powerful attack he’d ever launched—and still, his enemy was winning. How was this happening?

  "Last chance?" the wraith said, eyes popping.

  "For the last time," Sven said. "I never quit. I made a promise."

  "Then it’s time for you to face the end that awaits all things," the wraith bellowed, pushing the fire toward him with a dramatic gesture.

  Sven gritted his teeth and pushed back as hard as he could. The Death Attack was getting uncomfortably close to him, and he wondered for a moment if he’d overplayed his hand in attempting to fight this boss after spending the last few months drinking ale and running a tavern. The wraith was still an A-Class threat, and Sven was out of shape and getting older every day.

  But he’d seen something encouraging in the creature’s latest action. Its skeletal arm was trembling. The wraith tires too. I can win.

  Roaring with the effort, Sven put all his remaining strength toward forcing the wraith back. It hissed furiously as Sven’s magic overpowered its spectral fire.

  "You’re past your prime," the wraith snarled. "You don’t belong here anymore."

  Sven ignored it. He could see the tide of battle was already turning, and he suspected the wraith knew it too. He’d had a rough moment, but he was going to win this one.

  "You can do it, Sven!" Ash shouted as Sven’s bolt of white light edged closer and closer to the wraith. "Just a little bit more!"

  Sven gave his attack one last shove, and [Tremor Blast] reached the wraith with a percussive boom. The creature screeched with fury as it shattered into pieces, bone shards flying into the air and embedding themselves in the dungeon walls.

  Ash crouched and threw a shield over Sven as his attack blew a massive hole in the dungeon roof, sending green marble skeletons flying into the air. Decorative skulls rained down around him, all exact copies of the void wraith’s bug-eyed face. They looked so shocked that it was hard for Sven not to laugh. Glowing Sols too that the party of four would be able to collect. Sols that would have passed usually threw his hands if he had tried to pick them up. And nothing for me, maybe I’ll give them a bill if I see them later. Like an insurance policy.

  "Think you beat him, Mister?" Ash said once the dust cleared.

  Sven leaned against the wall, panting. "That was closer than I’d have liked it to be."

  "You still won! You’ve still got it Sven," Ash beamed and gave him a hug. "It was good to see you enjoying yourself again."

  "Yeah," said Sven, "But a few years ago, it wouldn’t have taken so long."

  Ash shrugged. "Seems like you did pretty well to me!"

  Sven shook his head. He couldn’t expect the mage to worry about an aging warrior. Well, at least she still seemed impressed. She at least knows of me.

  The party was still asleep on the floor, unscathed. Ash’s shield had protected them from the rain of skulls. They looked oddly peaceful and innocent—Sven was almost jealous. He was sure he’d never looked so young. Even as a child, he’d already been responsible for helping to support his family.

  The archer was laying a bit apart from the others, face turned up. Her helmet had come undone when she fell to the ground, and blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. Sven frowned.

  She looks familiar. Where have I seen her?

  She looked a bit like Maggie, the flower girl from the city. She’d wanted to leave the city and adventure for a living, just like Sven. Had she managed to do it?

  Gently, Sven replaced the helmet on her head. The flower girl—if she even was the flower girl--wanted to keep her identity secret, and he was sure she had her reasons for it. It wasn’t Sven’s place to reveal who she was. I’ll train her. She has a lot of potential. I won’t be the only one to have left the Cobbles.

  Warm sunlight fell on his face, and he looked up through the hole he’d blasted in the roof. The sky was a brilliant blue, and he could hear birdsong in the woods outside above his head Sven smiled.

  "Hey," Ash said. "How’re we going to get out of here? You buried the door."

  Sven looked over. There was a pile of green marble bones where the door had once been. He looked up again.

  "We’ll climb," he said. "I’ve never gotten out of the Dungeon of Infinite Sorrow this way before."

  Making no particular effort to be gentle, he threw the night elf over one shoulder and the cyclops over the other as Ash levitated herself, the goblin, and the archer up. Then, moving quickly, he started to scale the dungeon wall. It was easy, and, after some time, he started to whistle.

  After all, it was a beautiful day. "I’ll admit it Ash. This was fun for me. Next time though, you and me should try something by ourselves, more our level."

  Chapter 18: The Guild Master

  After the adventure in the Dungeon of Infinite Sorrow, Sven felt a surge of new energy. The C-Rankers he had saved had all groggily apologized and been sent on their way. A smile was on his face every day. His spirits raised, Sven even took to whistling one of Rabbit's old songs.

  A lewd tune about a mermaid and a halfling who was anything but half a man. The patrons of the tavern would roar with laughter any time Sven started to drunkenly belt out the lyrics as h
e handed out mugs of ale and made rude gestures to accent some of the more entertaining aspects of the song.

  "What song is that?" Ash asked him with a curious smile. "You've been whistling and singling it over and over again! I've never heard it before." "It's called The Sea King's Lament, can’t you tell?" Sven responded with a laugh, "It's all about a halfling who tried to pierce the waves and impress a daughter of Triton."

  "It doesn't sound like anything I've heard! Actually, I think I recognize the tune a bit. It sounds like the first song we mages teach young kids when they're learning how to play the violin before learning magic. It's all C notes. It's called "The 'C' Serpent’."

  "You can play the violin?" Sven said. "Maybe you can do a special performance here in the bar. A guest appearance complete with a dance routine."

  Ash shook her head. "All mages can play the violin, at least where I'm from. It's central to our culture. And I'd do it, but only if I get to keep the tips. And you have to find me a violin."

  "Deal," Sven said. They shook hands solemnly. Somebody important to me used to play the violin. Sven tried to think of who, but his mind drew a blank as a half recalled memory evaded him.

  A few days later, the tavern had quieted down. There were only a few adventurers scattered here and there around the bar. Almost everyone was out on the spring dungeon runs, trying to level up before the end of the season before the heat of summer kicked up. Sven was about to see if he could take the rest of the day off and leave Ash in charge for a while when the door blew open with a clatter. A cloaked and hooded figure stood in the doorway.

  The atmosphere grew tense as Sven and Ash faced off against the new arrival. Cloaks often meant trouble. Sven's hand went to the hilt of his [Broad Sword], and Ash's hands crackled with magic. "I'm going to give you a chance to turn around and walk away. I suggest you take it if you know what's good for you." Sven shouted, ready to fight.

  Instead of turning around, a booming laugh rang out across the tavern, and the figure threw his hood back to reveal messy red hair that was thick with grey strands and an almost thicker beard that had lost most of its color.

  "Ha!" the man said as his eyes centered on Sven and widened. A smile spread across his face recognizing Sven. "Sven! Did I scare you? Sorry about that—I wasn't thinking!"

  "Galen!" Sven clapped the big, bearlike man on the back. "I had no idea you were in the area! You never answered my letter!"

  "Yeah," Galen said, rubbing his beard guiltily, not quite able to look Sven in the eye. "It took a while to reach me. I was out on the road. You know how guild duties are. By the time a messenger reached me, I figured it was easier to reply in person than send a reply. Needed to see this place for myself"

  Sven's heart lifted and a smile spread across his face. "It's good to see you, Galen. It feels like it's been a long time. We've certainly got older." "Some of us more than others," Galen responded sadly turning away from Sven. "I’m glad you’ve survived Sven." Sven shook it off. They had lost a lot of friends over the years. "None of that sad stuff Galen. This is a happy place." Galen was an old friend and a great ally: the Master of the Adventurer’s Guild. He was another S-Ranker—one of the few left still working and was at last testing S3.

  He kept a little house in the city of Woodward for the rare times he was in town, in between jobs or away from the guild hall in the capital of Amathia. Sven had invited him to the tavern along with the rest of his old comrades. It came as a huge relief to learn that the Guildmaster hadn’t been deliberately ignoring his message.

  Sven grabbed two steins of dark beer and with a nod, left towards Ash to run the bar. He pulled up a chair settled in with Galen in front of the fire to catch up.

  "This is a lovely place you’ve got here Sven." Galen said, taking a large sip of ale. "You know, when I heard you’d moved over to take up tavern keeping, I have to admit I wasn’t sure what to expect."

  "Yeah," Sven said sheepishly. "I guess it’s an unexpected transition. But it makes more sense than you might think! Feels good. A lot less lonely than those last few weeks before I decided to try this."

  "Yeah? Tell me more." Galen asked. "What have you been up to? The Guild doesn’t hear much about you anymore. Actually at all, what have you been doing all this time?"

  "All this time? Please. It’s not like the Guild has much to say about me either, apparently. Hardly anyone knows who I am." Sven responded, “What are you teaching them these days?"

  "Teaching them enough Sven, though they can always learn more," Galen replied, effectively evading the question. Sven let it pass. I’m sure he has his reasons.

  Sven told Galen about his interaction with the flower girl, about his depressing experiences guiding youngsters through C-Level dungeons. That he’d picked up the gig at the Crazy Pony and had been going about his lonely nights in the King’s Arms.

  He also told him about his dream of a place where adventurers of all levels could come together and learn from each other. He told Galen about The Adventurer’s Rest’s successful opening and already having to rebuild it, and his plans to expand it in the future.

  Galen listened thoughtfully, occasionally interjecting to ask a question or make a brief comment. It occurred to Sven that he’d never told anyone about his dreams before.

  Finally, he finished his story. He and Galen sat in silence for a while, watching the fire.

  Then, Galen spoke: "You know, I wasn’t being fully truthful before. I got your message inviting me to visit this tavern. But I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea for me to come."

  Sven turned to look at him, his brows furrowed, confused by the comment. "Why not?"

  "Look, Sven," Galen said, rubbing his beard uneasily. "You’re a big guy. You’re tough. You’re like me. You’ve been out on the road a long time—maybe too long. And you and I have both seen S-Rankers who try to settle down, start a business, live a normal life, and it just doesn’t work. You go to their store, whatever it is, and you just feel sorry for them. They lay about like an old dog waiting to die or struggling to do something they had no business starting to begin with. I didn’t want to see you that way, I didn’t think you could do it. I wanted to remember you in your prime. Sorry."

  Sven was touched. Galen’s words stung a bit, but he knew the Guildmaster was just being honest. He’d always been a straight shooter.

  "And what do you think now? I was lucky. I’ve good people helping me," Sven said, gesturing at the bar.

  Galen smiled. "I’m impressed. And I think that maybe I was wrong to worry. Sven, I thought I’d let you know. I’ve passed a rule that any adventurer delving beyond their ranking will be stripped of their guild status and protection."

  "Thanks for doing that. I’m trying," Sven said. "I can’t keep doing what I’ve been doing. Guiding the kids through easy dungeons. It’s boring. And it’s just a pale shadow of what I used to do, adventuring out on the road. Better to do something else, something new. Better than fading away into nothing."

  "Right you are!" Galen said, raising his stein. "Damn right! A new challenge! That’s how I felt when I took the job of Guildmaster. It’s a lot of paperwork, but it’s new paperwork, and working in the capital has its perks. Like the women, so many women, Sven."

  They clanked their glasses together and both took a deep drink as they laughed raucously.

  Chapter 19: Beers By The Fire

  Time passed, and the two enjoyed more than a few drinks before Galen finally sat his empty mug down and looked at Sven. "I should tell you," Galen said. "There’s another reason I came. A story has made it’s way back to me at the Guild, and I thought I’d come and talk to you about it, make sure you weren’t making trouble."

  Sven’s stomach dropped. "What story? What did you hear?"

  Galen looked away for a moment before answering, "Does the Dungeon of Infinite Sorrow ring a bell?" he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

  "Ha!" Sven said as he leaned forward, feeling relieved. "You had me worried. I thought it was something aw
ful. You already told me you're not going to allow out of rank runs anymore. But yeah, those kids were hopeless. They were in way over their heads. I don’t know why they thought they could take on that dungeon. Who told you, though? I tried to be discrete about it"

  "No one told me. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out somebody was looking out for them, and not many people around here are capable of destroying part of a boss’s lair. Infinite Sorrow was closed for almost two weeks before the dungeon reopened. That was a substantial loss to the adventurers who depend on it. "

  "Yeah, sorry about that," Sven said with a shrug, not really sorry at all. "They needed some help, and I wasn’t just going to let them die."

  "I am glad for that, really I am," Galen said. "There's not as many of us as they used to be and I don't just mean S-Ranks, I mean adventurers in general. We are a dying breed Sven."

  Sven nodded, not surprised at the news. "I believe it. Besides, I also had some fun facing off against that void wraith again. You remember him?"

  "Sure do," Galen said with a chuckle. "Always hated that one. Nasty death touch ability and that ego. What kind of maniac, monster or not, keeps that many statues of themselves?”

  "Not much has changed," Sven laughed. "Just like when we used to run the dungeons together."

  Galen looked back into the bottom of his empty mug and cleared his throat. "But I have to say, hearing that story made me think of a lot of things. I’d always thought of you as one of those perma-adventurer types. You know, the ones who keep going until they physically can’t do it anymore. Even with your dungeon guiding—I had assumed you were just doing it for the money, right, a cut of their loot and drops? Without a party to go into one of the S-Ranked dungeons, you can’t be earning much by yourself."