Over twenty thousand credits from the mundane world! Jonathan whistled and stepped toward the fire, not having any words for that. He couldn’t even imagine what it was like to have so much wealth that dropping twenty thousand on a scroll was a manageable expense. Simply astounding.
Head held high, Jonathan stepped through the translucent barrier separating the cell from the command ship’s deck. Someone added him to the raid party. Pings cascaded at the side of his vision, a quest-completed alert among the pings. The fifty silver reward appearing in his inventory.
From the starboard and stern, bone-chilling wind lashed his skin. A speck of blackish snow laced landed on his forehead, and a feeling of bitter despair set siege on his mind. But he was not so weak! Then an arm-sized piece of jagged ice missed his stomach by inches. The blizzard was so intense that it was slipping through the ship’s shield.
Another shard appeared not four feet away and darted at him—straight at his chest.
His legs were too slow, his level one Dexterity not nearly enough.
Light mana wrapped around him in a loving protective embrace. Life Link. The ice shattered, no damage or pain dealt to his level one character— No, he was already level five, somehow. Six. Seven. The bar at the bottom was filling on its own, entire chunks bumping upward every second.
A Paladin yelled through his full-helm, “Ambersworn! Why did you bring this level one?!” The King.
Level ten.
Dorian said something lost in a skull-splitting shriek coming from far away. He summoned his phoenix, blinked onto its back, and winged away with his staff held in a battle stance. Brave as ever. Strong as the mightiest of heroes. He was no darkie.
Jonathan squinted, catching a gigantic blast of misty ice arching under the sun, above a swarm of icy Undead horrors spewing ice, glimpses of something or things far larger within. No way. No way Rowan could be so powerful! But reality was taunting Jonathan, smacking him in the face.
Worst of all, the blast was on path to collide with the zeppelin’s failing shield. Not good.
“Do something!” Jonathan shouted and issued a ping to the party. Protect the zeppelin! He had to do something… like attuning to the spawnstone at the mast’s base for starters.
Level eleven came and went as Jonathan did so. He suppressed the level-up sound effect.
King Everbright bellowed harshly, “Argghh! No choice!”
A brace ping vibrated above the others. With that intricate sword held high, a shining beacon of light magic, the king began chanting. A short verse, which Jonathan did not understand, boomed across the sparse deck. Golden light blinded him for a moment, unveiling a glittering, swirling light dome coming to life high above his head, knitting together in an impenetrable weave.
Hundreds of Undead within the dome disintegrated. Level forty-two said hello with a ding. Jonathan had only seen this ultimate a handful of times before, felt its aura of righteousness. New resolve steeled his posture.
“You!” the king barked, pointing at Jonathan with his blade. “Show me your Path of Tribulation at once!”
Man, why did they have to be so distrusting?
Jonathan bit back irritation and did as commanded, spreading his footing wider to keep balance on the swaying slippery wood.
The king nodded in an instant. “Then get behind me and soak up up experience!” He didn’t seem impressed, likely because he was a T7 himself.
Jonathan hurried in between two of his royal guards, an Archer and a Priest. Apart from the two, the deck was empty save for another royal Priest operating a ballista. A colossal arrow of pure, condensed light fired at his thump of a glowing staff, sailed through the dome.
"Where’s the queen?" Jonathan asked.
"Other ship." He thumbed to the left, to a similar command ship lingering close enough for a sprint and leap.
Then from behind, a frightening ball of rusty iron sped overhead toward… a humongous bone dragon flying extremely low, very close to that watery shield, away from the swarm. It dodged with an impressive belly-roll, and Jonathan barely caught sight of a single tiny figure on its back.
Rowan Black! He had slaughtered one of those majestic creatures and defiled it! Jonathan’s face contorted in sour disgust. Whoever had fired that spiked ball was so, so close to taking out that evil madman. Not a man. A misbehaving child.
Jonathan looked over his shoulder, finding another command ship further behind. "What wa—"
"King Duskmantle." Dwarf King. He recently ascended to tier seven, got one hell of an upgrade to his cannon."
That was one way to say it. Jonathan, however, couldn’t help but notice it paled in comparison to Rowan’s army when he was only a T6. There had to be thousands if not millions of those icy flying monstrosities. For a single adventurer to hold such power was… troublesome. Jonathan’s sides bristled, a horrid feeling creeping up on him.
"Relax, boy," the King said. "Just look. Their forces are literally melting. This will be over before sundown."
Maybe that was right. Jonathan dared to hope, for hoping and offering a ping now and then was all he could do here. His newfound pride was taking a pummeling, his uselessness an embarrassment. He shook his head, lips tight with anxiety.
* * *
Rowan tore his eyes from a decaying sunken ship that looked to probably house a dungeon. "What do your wards pick up?"
Edward grumbled under his breath, then said, "Water that’s thick with mana."
SoSo nodded. "We need to surface."
Damn. "Go ahead. Pass me the popups so I can target them."
She chuckled, "As you desire, Lord Black." She flicked her middle fingernail against the yacht’s control gem. It accepted her command, blinking twice.
A rush of uplifting magic took hold of the vessel. The sea’s gleaming surface descended, schools of varying-colored fish swimming by.
At the first glimpse of bluish-purple sky, a large radar-like mini-map appeared in front of Rowan’s eyes. Miniature dialog boxes labeled each red dot. The three targets were barely within a fifty meter radius of each other, and similar to Gabrielle’s curses, shields did not impede his ultimate skill. The command ships were soon to be a gourmet of death and suffering.
Edward hissed, "They can detect us. Do it now!"
No need to be said. Rowan was already incanting his new and only ultimate: Rowan’s Lament. The skill asked for little effort. He picked the targets with a mental sweep, a bone ring for each of the three World Bosses, ice rings given to random targets. Their first instinct would be to spread out, he reasoned, so the ice variant was less effective here.
The final malevolent word fluttered from Rowan’s lips. A distortion in space rippling outward from the yacht, the dark magic took effect. "Done. Let’s go."
Cannons and ballistae turned in their direction as they dipped back beneath the waves. A single arrow fletched from leafy, pine-green mana missed by miles, far too late for such measly retaliation. Arrogant fools, the lot of them. They should’ve positioned their kings and queen in the middle of the fleet.
* * *
A single message in the hectic raid chat was missed by a Jonathan who didn’t understand why King Everbright and his royal guard were hustling toward the ship’s stern—the swaying command ship which was treating Jonathan terribly. A sea-sick World Boss. That had to be a first! The humor of the situation dulled his shame.
Lily Mannequin: Black detected behind us!
Just as he was on the verge of hurling, it happened: his vision pulsated with a ripple, time seemed to slow, and a gnarly chill rode up his spine. A ghostly ring of miasma-riddled ice encircled him, his status bar vibrating. An icon—a frozen skull—flashed once and punched fear into his bowels.
Rowan’s Lament (Ultimate, 14 seconds remaining)
What in Aeon is this?
The skull flashed again.
Rowan’s Lament (Ultimate, 13 seconds remaining)
Jonathan’s jaw clenched. He spun left and right, searching for an
swers. There were none, except for a similar ring around the King, but it was of bone instead of ice. His health bar was unmoving. No damage. Zero. And fifteen seconds was far too low for a debuff, especially one from a Necromancer ultimate.
The skull kept flashing. The rings kept spinning. The end kept encroaching.
Rowan’s Lament (Ultimate, 9 seconds remaining)
Hundreds of pings began pouring into Jonathan’s eyes. The chatbox scrolled into a blur of text.
"Get away from me!" the king roared from behind. "It’s a bomb! This is a splash marker. Get away!"
Of course! There was no other explanation!
Nearly slipping on a puddle and tripping on an unhammered nail, Jonathan sprinted forward and madly spammed the raid chat, spammed pings calling to spread out. Rowan wasn’t going to best him this time. Rowan wasn’t going to kill more innocents without Jonathan Bladestrider having something to say about it—in raid chat. He repeated a single sentence in all-caps, demanding attention. Attention fit for a World Boss.
Jonathan Bladestrider: SPREAD OUT IF YOU HAVE A RING!!! IT’S A BOMB MARKER!!!
This was his moment. His triumph! Light’s triumph over darkness. He didn’t know how many times he shoved those two sentences into his allies’ faces, but he’d bet his liver that not a single raid member missed it. If they didn’t spread out, then it was not Jonathan Bladestrider’s fault. A job well done for a future World Boss.
The skull flashed a final time.
Rowan’s Lament, First Movement: Pity in Andante
Jonathan braced for impact.
Cold, numb pain bit every inch of his flesh and bones, nothing spared. Frostbite consumed his health points down to exactly 50%. He ate the torture as a true World Boss and didn’t allow Rowan a single pained moan or scream. If this was all he could do as a T6 Necromancer, then really, it was—
"AHHHHHHHHH!" King Everbright wailed.
As Jonathan forced his half-frozen legs to turn—
No.
Everbright’s bloodied armor thumped onto the deck. Three corrupting, tainting bone spikes had impaled him through the neck, chest, and stomach. His flesh withered to black ash, his health bar drained to oblivion.
No.
This was Jonathan’s moment.
No.
The King wasn’t dead, but high above the ship’s masts, the dome shield scattered into dust-like light.
No. The king was dead.
The Queen and Dwarf King’s health bars were also empty.
No! Oh, gods! They were all dead! Three of four World Bosses fighting for justice were dead!
Dorian’s furious, repeated message filled the chatbox among others aimed at Jonathan, both private and in raid chat. Dorian’s stood heads and shoulders above the rest.
Dorian Ambersworn (To Jonathan Bladestrider): YOU FUCKING IDIOT! I WAS TRYING TO TELL THEM THEY MIGHT HAVE TO STACK FOR ONE OF THE RINGS! IT’S A COMMON FUCKING SKILL MECHANIC IN OTHER GAMES! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU OF ALL PEOPLE GOT A PATH OF TRIBULATION!
Oh.
With a last strand of resolve, Jonathan was about to call for immediate resurrections, but a small tidbit hit him in the side of his head: World Bosses with Divine Blessings had to wait out a long, long timer before they were allowed to return from death. Over a day for T7s.
Static noise, the royal guard’s angry shouts weren’t heard, for the cold weight of utter defeat pulled Jonathan to his knees. His limbs pulled him into a fetal curl. He failed. Once again, it was all his fault. This was his moment.
The ship swayed forward, and the king’s blood painted his hands a shameful red.
Chapter 21
Captain Rowan
A million glittering pinpricks sank into the ocean’s depths.
After a lagging moment, three dazzling flashes dyed the tessellating liquid ceiling with pale golden tints. The reefs nearby were an aquatic disco of magical sea-life, the yacht slipping through at the speed of a torpedo, the twins impassive as usual. Rowan grinned and enjoyed the underwater light show very much while reflecting on the success.
The assassination had worked as well as he’d hoped, all three primary targets slain. Though there had been an off-chance of a whiff; the human king and queen had been lingering quite close to each other, a high-tier blink or two away, along with their royal entourage. Plus a low-level classless guy for some unfounded reason. Jonathan was his character’s name, Rowan not recalling the last name from the two-dozen red dots. More than likely, he was some rich kid who’d purchased a powerleveling session.
Digressing, that wasn’t of worthy note. What was important, however, was that his trump card had been played. They probably had already figured out the mechanic by now, and it was almost astounding that the king and queen hadn’t tried to stack together. The twins’ Detection Ward had spotted both Dorian and that super-experienced guy… Lance. Lament’s special mechanic was a carbon-copy of those in other MMOs, highly typical. How hadn’t they recognized it?
Rowan mentally shrugged. His eyes wandered. Next to the experience bar at the bottom of the game’s interface, snatching his attention, a small dialogue glowed in an ice-blue silhouette. Something new.
T7 World Boss Ascension Progress: 6.46%
Sweet. The three kills each granted a round 2% along with sixteen whole levels.
Edward broke the silence, “What was that skill you used?”
Rowan’s eyelids batted once. He’d someway assumed they had seen the scroll along with the girls. “Here. Take a look.” Flicking open the Skills interface, Rowan shared its description and details with them; a simple projected intention like many other interface commands.
Edward’s eyes widened. “First movement?”
“Looks like a combo skill,” Rowan said. “A three-piece, maybe.”
Edward remarked under his breath, “More like a musical piece. There has to be a hidden mechanic related.”
Rowan didn’t have a comment for that, though a hidden mechanic was welcome in whatever form it chose to take. Music wasn’t too weird.
“Hmmmmmmmm,” SoSo hummed dramatically. “This is extremely easy to counter if they know how it works.”
An overgrown shark swam overhead as Edward added, “And they now do. They’re not stupid.”
Just as Rowan had thought. “But not smart enough to figure it out within the countdown.”
“Apparently not.”
SoSo asked, “What if they’re rooted or stunned? Or if they have a Life Link or Divine Mark up?”
Roots and stuns were all short-ranged skills for obvious balance reasons, so exploiting Lament in a combo with a stun didn’t seem too overpowered. The AI had conceivably intended the strategy; Ambiguous’ faux time-stop would be a good combo candidate. As for SoSo’s latter question… “I think it overrides Link and Mark. There’s no way the human king didn’t use Mark.”
Edward flashed a mellow smile. “The chinks in Paladin’s armor are growing by the day. This has to be the tenth ultimate that bypasses Link and Mark.”
Interesting. Before Rowan queried along that line, SoSo abruptly perked straighter. She chirped, “And what is our lord lamenting over?” She giggled in a familiar way, and she judged him with a more-familiar smug expression that pulled a certain petite blonde to the forefront of his mind.
Some of Gabrielle’s cheeriness had for sure rubbed off onto the Dusk Elf player. Cheeriness which the boss that dropped the scroll had not shared. The encounter with the thing replayed in his mind as a rapid montage, a memory that refused to be suppressed. A hollow pain in his chest, those words of rejection irrationally stung. Was that his lament? Possible. It was Draesear’s style to ridicule him so. The dark god enjoyed prodding him where he was weak, playing with his heart… or whatever was left of it.
The thing wasn’t her, Rowan reminded himself and gazed out into the deep blue. The thing was just an apparition, a lowly mimic from… another world—Not Insane’s pocket dimension generated by his own ultimate skill, a small chance of a d
ungeon spawn lumped in. Damned bird man. He was both to hold at blame and thanks.
SoSo nudged his elbow. “Hmm? Earth to Necromancer. Lord Black, are you in there?”
Rowan put on a face, false stoicism. “The gods just like to be dramatic.”
Before she could quip another word, the yacht broke through the waves. The spire’s shield wobbled a yard from the starboard edge. She drew her bow, an automatic reflex, and loaded an onyx arrow of dark mana. She unleashed death, through the yacht’s glassy mana cover, at the nearest ship’s hull. That bubble of gold light absorbed the corrupting cloud but not enough to prevent damage to the balsa wood. Why on Aeon did they build these ships with balsa?
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