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PW Chapter 25: Stories Told
🕑 Added 2025-06-02 07:00:37 +0000 UTCAstrid felt her mouth widen, and Aleksandr, the leader of the Golden Fist, chuckled.
“I see you’ve heard of my party.”
“And you yourself, sir.” Astrid bowed her head. “I apologize for my excessive familiarity. Please, don’t fault me for my casual manner. Um… I’ve always wanted to become a delver, to protect the Bulwark. Like you and your party do. Um. I. Just.”
“It’s no problem.” Aleksandr laughed more fully, putting his hand forward and gently shaking her shoulder in comfort. “Nobody recognizes me outside of my ceremonial armor anyways. I’m much more of a regular looking guy than most people expect from an Adamantite delver. And even so, we’re peers. There’s no reason to treat me any differently than you do the delvers you’ve met thus far!”
Knowing that what he was saying, simply put, was untrue, Astrid didn’t know how to react. Every delver she had met thus far would almost certainly never even see the upper watersheds of Steel. Her mother, powerful enough to have a nickname known for miles around where she’d been stationed, though Astrid knew part of that was due to her performance in a couple key battles specifically. Even so, Steel was a lifetime goal for many people, and now, someone two tiers above that was asking that she treat him like an equal? That just… wasn’t possible.
He saw that in her and shrugged. The seemingly ordinary man now seemed to glow in the moon’s light. Though he was much shorter than her, only barely reaching her shoulder with his hand, Astrid could see him so much higher than her. He was just… beyond her comprehension!
“What’s your name?” Aleksandr asked.
“Astrid Warrior.”
“A Warrior. A good Class for delving.” He nodded appreciatively. “I wanted Warrior, myself. Wasn’t too pleased when I got Soldier instead.”
“I… uh… why? They’re pretty similar Classes, aren’t they?”
“It’s a Class meant for fighting beside others like yourself.” He explained, seemingly unconcerned about the surge that had already stolen so many lives. Astrid felt it was so surreal she simply didn’t know how to respond.
“There’s some other reason why you’re asking this?” Aleksandr asked as Astrid stood in silence. As she pondered why he was digging into her like this, he supplied with a wry grin, “At my level, you can read people better than anyone expects. You… you didn’t want Warrior? A different fighting Class? No. Did you want Mage? No. Both fighting and magic. One of the gish Classes? Yes. Bladeweaver, Arcane Archer, Spellblade—yes.”
Astrid’s jaw dropped again as the Adamantite delver picked her apart so easily. She’d known that once Self-Mastery and Acumen climbed up past 100, people could see the world differently from how those weaker than them could. Her mother was an example of this—Astrid hadn’t ever been able to lie to her mother. Or her father, for that matter, though his attributes were focused on the mental ones anyways.
“Sorry, I don’t often do this. Just consider it an old man’s whims. That’s half the reason why we’re here anyways.”
Astrid tried to school herself as she thought of the rest of the Golden Fist, but, again, Aleksandr laughed.
“I’m older than I look, I can tell you that for free! But here’s why I didn’t want Soldier. Soldiers are meant to fight beside Soldiers, with Captains guiding them. Archers or Artillerists stand behind them as the Soldiers serve as a bulwark to their fellow men. It’s a good Class. But it’s not what I wanted. I wanted glory, to be a powerful delver who could wade into surges and entrances of the Dungeon and lay about me with a gleaming sword. I’d slaughter every monster that came near, and I’d prove myself as a true delver. Women would want to be with me, and men would want to be me. Stupid, childish things like that.
“When I saw Soldier, I thought I’d become a forgotten, worthless rank and file fighter on the walls. My dad was a Soldier, and I never wanted that life. Ran away to a Dungeon entrance and fought like hell. I’ll be honest and those first two Class evolutions, I deliberately pulled myself further and further away from Soldier. Introduced myself as Aleksandr Spearmaster and Aleksander Weaponsmaster for a while. In my mind, I just didn’t want to be, in any way, associated with Soldier any more. But now, I’m happy to tell you not just what my identifying Class is, but what my Class itself is.”
There wasn’t anything else Astrid could do to respond than to nod for him to continue.
“Perfected Soldier.”
Aleksandr’s face cracked in a genuine smile of pride.
“I’m at the apex of what I hated to be. I don’t get the feeling you have quite the same emotions about your class that I did, but I can tell you that there’s an amazing strength found in doing small, seemingly unremarkable things remarkably well. “
“Well, then thank you, Si—Aleksandr. I appreciate the advice. Do you need anything from inside?”
He laughed once. “No. A delver who’s getting towards level 200? We carry everything we need with us. Good luck on your continued journey.”
Without another word, the, apparently nearly Arcanite delver just disappeared. Astrid didn’t feel the wind move, or see any sign of his passage. Faster than she could blink, he appeared, and just as suddenly, he was gone. She knew how Classes continued to grant more and more attributes per level, so what could his Alacrity be? How far away had he and his party been when they’d gotten the news? What Dungeon had they gone to initially?
Astrid turned her thoughts away from that as she looked around herself, instead hoping beyond hope she’d see Leah Bladedancer. She’d been Astrid’s greatest inspiration beyond her mother towards becoming a delver. Beautiful and quick, Leah was one of those Classes that was termed a gish but didn't use spells the way that Spellblades did. Instead, Bladedancers could draw on their mana to speed themselves up and bless their weapons with more honed edges. Leah herself was notoriously brash, beautiful, and deadly. She was everything the young Astrid wanted to be, held as an idol beyond her mother, even.
Of course, the Golden Fist was here to deal with the surge, though the politics of why they would be here was far beyond killing monsters that’d grown past the second benchmark of Bronze. Unless they decided to show themselves like Aleksandr had, she didn’t have a prayer of seeing any of her idols. With a sigh, Astrid turned back to her armor. After all, she needed to clean it at some point, and the longer she took, the worse it’d become to get the gore out from the individual links.
***
Aleksandr
From much further than she could see, he watched the interesting rookie. He hadn’t taken the time to ask any of the locals about what’d happened, since their goal here wasn’t what everyone else’s were. Not a surprise, considering the Golden Fist got its name from serving as the Duchess’s hand. The girl, after a surprisingly short time, turned back to her armor and set about taking good care of it. Better armor than any Bronze below level 10 should have. Rich parents? Probably not, given the way she’d carried herself.
With a force of will, Aleksandr pulled his mind away from continuing down those paths. They just didn’t matter, and he couldn’t allow himself to get lost in random thoughts about random rookies when the chief Dungeoneer had made it abundantly clear that they needed to figure out what was going on in this part of the Dungeon.
“Finally done, you flirt?”
Leah’s voice came from nearby. Though he couldn’t sense her, Aleksandr’d known she was nearby. Even with Adamantium-tiered Stealth, she was predictable to the people who knew her tactics best.
“With a child? No, never. Now, did you track down any escapees?”
“I got 17.” Leah chuckled as she walked forward and took his hand in hers. Through their gloves and armor, neither could feel the other’s heat or skin, but that didn’t matter. Little moments of leisure were precious enough for them that they’d long since agreed that they’d enjoy each other’s presence when they could.
“There were that few escapees?” he asked, surprised.
“I decided to let Saul show off.” Leah shrugged. “He’s working on that large-scale targeted spear attack again.”
“And he left off from killing any of them in the Irons’ territory?”
“Yeah. Created a perfect circle that was exempt from just outside the Entrance. Hardest part was keeping my glamour over him while he used the Skill. It was fiddling with my mana the entire time.”
“How many were there?”
“Said he got 83.”
He whistled under his breath. That… with the Irons doing all they were? This was truly concerning.
“A solid 100, if you count my assistance.”
“Yes, you’re very impressive.” He said dryly, knowing he deserved the “light” punch that came after. The hit would have broken that girl behind them’s arm, and maybe her ribs behind that.
“Has Isana gone down into the Dungeon yet?”
“Of course. Miri’s with her on the first floor as well, so they’re fine.”
Aleksandr sighed. He didn’t want them going into the Dungeon without the full party together, but it was also the third weakest Dungeon entrance in the entirety of the Bulwark’s lands. There were a total of seventeen entrances in humanity’s lands that had any monsters on the first three floors that could threaten even an incapacitated member of the Golden Fist. This wasn’t one of them. If, somehow, a dragon or greater giant showed up, then they’d have much bigger problems than a couple level 10 wargs wandering around and killing innocents.
“Then let’s hurry and see what we can find down here.”
Despite his near sprint, Leah didn’t need to do more than jog lightly to keep up. Just under a minute later, they’d crossed the couple kilometers necessary to get to the Dungeon’s entrance, where the rest of their party was waiting. Saul looked pretty satisfied with the results of his experimental spell, though the exhaustion from the working was obvious.
“They’re down below.” Saul said as he got to his feet. The Irons weren’t nearby, but that wasn’t surprising. They’d had a fair amount of fighting to do, and they couldn’t spare the effort to think about what might be stewing in the Dungeon below. They’d already sacrificed a good amount to get here so quickly, and they weren’t going to get much of anything beyond some appreciation from the Guild for it. That made them good delvers in Aleksandr’s book.
“How’s the newest spell?” He asked as he led the way into the Dungeon. As the party’s tank, he naturally fell into the protective position, even though he was convinced there wasn’t any real danger that this small offshoot of the dungeon could provide.
“Effective, but inefficient.” The party’s Wizard answered. “The mana draw is simply foolish. I’d suspect that would be remedied by not limiting the scope of the spell itself quite so much, but a good experiment if nothing else.”
“Hmm. Keep me posted, of course.”
“Oh, we’re dealing with the captain. In that case, but of course, captain.” Saul shrugged as he pulled his grimoire from its spatial dimension. “I do know that you so perfectly understand the intricacies of my magic, and thus my research must needs be proofread by you at my earliest convenience.”
“Of course I understand it perfectly.” Aleksandr replied. “I understand how amazing your work is.”
Saul grunted and nodded his head in an apology that wasn’t needed but was appreciated. He had reached a much harder plateau than the rest had, and his level continued to lag behind the others’. He threw himself into research and other magical possibilities, but to no avail. His bitterness was merited, and he didn’t take it out on his allies except for the occasional sarcasm. Or caustic sarcasm, as the case may be.
In the Dungeon, the unnatural color of the trees seen in the forest above was fully perverted to blackness.
“Kinda eerie.” Leah commented.
“I’d forgotten what it’s like down here.” Aleksandr agreed. “Never liked these parts of the Dungeon myself.”
“Oh yeah!” Leah laughed. “Alek, this was your first Dungeon.”
“Haven’t been back in the 38 years since.” He added.
While they were speaking, Leah’s blades flashed and cut down every warg in a 30 meter radius.
“Bring back any memories?” Saul asked.
“Not really.” He shrugged. “I remember my first kill, but mostly that it got blood all over my legs and the representative that was testing me screamed at me about it. ‘Footing is how you die, delving! You wanna die down here? No? Then make sure your damned feet are clear!’ Not a bad lesson to learn early, if you ask me.”
His companions nodded, agreeing. So many things to learn in the early days…
They walked in comfortable silence for just long enough to find Isana and Miriam. Isana, as a Dungeoneer, could read the mana of the Dungeon from above. She didn’t need to be here to know the broadest strokes of what the Dungeon was doing. But, ever the perfectionist, she’d needed to be in here, overwhelmed by the mana as it assaulted her every sense.
Miri held up a finger as she shushed the rest of the party in their approach. She flicked transparent, crystalline daggers at monsters as soon as they spawned nearby, keeping the Dungeoneer in relative silence. After another half a minute, Isana gasped and pulled herself back.
“That’s just… it doesn’t make sense. The Dungeon’s never done this. It always… the mana’s steady. So why…” She trailed off, her thoughts spiralling. The Party’s Dungeoneer hadn’t ever been a particularly easy-to-understand person. Something about being able to see mana as it flowed through people and the Dungeon alike was more of a curse than a blessing, so far as Aleksandr could tell. Maybe the act of getting the Dungeoneer Class broke something inside of the newly Bestowed. Didn’t matter to him, though.
Once she’d calmed down enough to take note of the people around her, Isana smiled softly. “I’m sorry, I was lost in thought.”
“We expect it. The mana’s got a lot to say and we’re happy to hear you interpret it for us.” Miriam patted Isana’s back.
“The mana… is returning here.” Isana said with a shrug. “The Dungeon is shifting, and changing. The fourth floor is expanding, but I do not think it is unifying itself with a primary artery. Perhaps it will be the second recorded incident of an independent Dungeon entrance gaining additional floors. If that is the case, this surge will continue on for some time, but we cannot say what will change. Perhaps it will climb watersheds and become an entrance that needs even Irons before too long. Perhaps not. It will be something only time can tell. I would love to observe it, though.”
That’s just what we don’t have, though. Aleksandr thought. Time was their most valuable resource, and as the Duchess’s Fist, there were problems demanding their attention every day all over the Bulwark.
“I don’t think we have the time to stay here and observe the mana throughout this entire surge,” Aleksandr said, making Isana’s face fall as the other three whispered about how he was being captain right now, and he blazed on, “but I do think we can find a compromise here. The next assignment we have is to fully clear the Hydra’s Marsh down to the 28th floor. That’s 187 kilometers from here, so we can get there pretty quickly. If everyone’s willing to give up our two days’ free time for you to observe this surge, then we can do that.”
“Oh, please! Miri please!” Isana immediately turned to the Assassin, who sighed and shrugged.
“I can’t tell you no, can I?”
Isana grinned and wrapped Miriam up in a tight hug.
“I can conduct research here as well as anywhere else.” Saul replied, already idly looking through his grimoire. “I don’t need to consult with anyone at this time on my experiments.”
With those three agreed, it was only a formality, but Aleksandr turned to Leah, who smiled. “I think there’s plenty of things to check out here anyways. I wanna hear all about your misadventures as a baby Bronze.”
“If that’s the case, then that’s settled.” Aleksandr allowed. “We’ll leave here in 48 hours. Spend that time however you want, I’ll be sure to communicate with the Guild’s representative and requisition some of the reserved rooms for us, in case we want to sleep in a bed for once.”
He had to fight to keep from looking at Leah as he said as much. He knew how her eyebrows would be moving suggestively, and, frankly, he wanted to try to keep up the act of severity up for a little longer. After all, they were on the cusp of entering the real international stage, and he’d need to know how to control himself and this merry band.
