The Pinnacle Warrior

Seeing and gaining so much experience was a heady… experience. Astrid happily took note of the over 2,500 experience that she had gained and looked at the rest of her party. She was the one who had been in the most direct danger after that initial contact, but she’d taken plenty of time to heal herself with all of those charges of Physique. She’d worried about Skandr and Felix, but they both seemed to be moving without much issue.

“Skandr,” Astrid asked as he came down to join the rest of the party, “what happened? Did you lose some ribs in that hit? You seem to be doing all right now.”

“That hit from the tail was pretty brutal,” he said with a shake of his head. “Definitely broke some ribs, and something inside was punctured. Fortunately, Benedict was right there and helped me recover quickly. Sorry for underperforming.”

“It definitely would have gone better if we were all more prepared,” Astrid agreed. “After spending so long getting ready for the breath, I don’t think that I was really ready for the rest of it.”

“Didn’t even try my stored spells,” Skandr grumbled, looking down. 

“It charging in and throwing you away like that was nerve-wracking,” Felix agreed. “I felt how overwhelming it was. If it gets its claws on you, there really isn’t anything we can do. A dragon Boss’s just too strong.”

“Its defenses are very strong as well,” Muti grumbled. “My blades could not pierce it very well, even with Shadow Touched and Shadow Strike.”

“Before we continue talking about this,” Benedict said as he pointed at the bleeding corpse, “how about someone goes to bring the guy with the storage item here.”

Muti nodded and disappeared in a flash of smoke, her silhouette reappearing at the peak of the caldera some two hundred meters away. She continued past that, disappearing as the party settled down, and Astrid rolled her shoulders.

“This is the first time we’ve really seen just how ‘Immortal’ the Champion can be,” Skandr said. “Having so many charges of Physique is just unfair.”

“What can I say?” Astrid laughed. “I’m really good at hitting things and getting hit.”

“I guess if that’s how you want to boil it down,” Skandr shook his head, “you’re free to. Regardless, getting Felix back on his feet after taking that hit was crazy.”

The Guardian nodded in agreement, and Astrid asked, “How bad was it?”

“Broken leg, something up with my back as well, and definitely a whole lot of organ damage. The healing got me back on my feet, but I’d still like some help,” Felix trailed off, looking at Benedict. Instead of any teasing, the Bard just nodded and refocused himself on double casting Song of Victory. The party just sat in silence for a short while after that, with Muti and Olafson appearing before too long. The Craftsman looked at the corpse and nodded appreciatively as he looked at the party, all of whom had sustained a few wounds but were still standing and generally unbothered.

“Let’s get this and then get out of here, shall we?” he asked with a wide smile. “There’s so many things to try with these materials.”

Looking back and forth at the rest of her party, Astrid laughed and nodded. After all, the thought of getting a rest in at Michel’s inn sounded glorious.

***

The return journey was even less eventful than the one to get to the tenth floor. The single herd of nightmares that came across the Wanderers was quickly dispatched, and Olafson took the time to collect the hooves that he was interested in, especially the irregulars. He tried to explain something about the makeup of the surface of the hooves, that it could be used to create a certain salve. Astrid hadn’t listened very closely to it, and the words that he used very quickly became technical, so she stopped paying attention.

Once they exited the Dungeon and were home free, they slowed down and actually walked the dozen or so kilometers back to Neverwood. Instead of making the journey in just a few short minutes, they took nearly an hour, and a part of Astrid hated it, but the rest of her actually enjoyed the opportunity to have nothing to do but to get to a location well within her reach while talking with her friends and resting.

“There’s still so much blood left inside of it, and the heart? You managed to keep it mostly untouched, so the heartstring should be pristine since the heart itself would have protected the strings. There’s so many things I can do with this, even though it’s a lower tier than me. I’m sure that we can get you plenty of good equipment with the scales and bones. Or do we want to try to tan the hide and separate the scales? There’s so many different options, I just can’t help but imagine all the different ideas!”

“I wouldn’t even begin to know the difference between all of these things,” Astrid answered. “So far as I can tell, you’re the person who we’re going to trust to make the decisions, and we all keep providing materials to you. Does that sound about right?”

“But that’s so uninteresting, to just let me make all the decisions,” Olafson protested, Neverwood in view. “The most interesting part of being a Craftsman is having somebody suggest something unreasonable to you, and then figuring out how to make the unreasonable, nearly impossible thing happen.”

“Then think of something unreasonable and nearly impossible and make it,” Astrid laughed.

“It’s not the same as rising to the challenge, though.”

“Wait a minute,” Benedict cut in, “I don’t mind coming up with something nearly impossible for you to try. How about a pair of pants that helps me fly?”

“It’s better if it’s a coat for that,” Olafson answered without delay. “The weight is much better distributed that way to make sure that you can stay upright more easily. Plus, it is easier to stay balanced with the weight well secured across the chest. Comes with a harness usually, too. But that’s not really a piece of equipment; it’s just something to play around with. You wouldn’t be able to fly as fast as you can run, and it would take basically all that your body can sustain in terms of mana exposure while you’re wearing it. But you could give it a try.”

“That’s not impossible?” Benedict frowned. “I was trying to give you what you wanted.”

“How often do you think people want to be able to fly? It’s just very expensive, not particularly effective, and not good equipment. Thus, when people hear this, they don’t really want it anymore.”

“Maybe if we had a bunch of extra money we could think about getting something that would let us fly,” Skandr said with a shrug, “but I doubt that’s going to happen anytime soon.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Benedict said. “How about… how about a flute that when I play it makes a shield made of lava all around me?”

Olafson’s eyes narrowed as he continued on his path of thought. They entered the boundary of the town, Vera poking her head out in interest, and then hopping surprisingly silently out of the window to fall in line with them as the Craftsman said, “That would be basically like a mana barrier upon channeling of mana through the item, but instead of being mostly attribute-less or focused on a defensive attribute, making it almost more of an offensive result. Still, it would need enough substance to keep the attack from piercing through…”

His muttering became incomprehensible as he fell further into his own thoughts, and Astrid looked at Benedict, who smiled in triumph as they walked to the trading post behind the Simian Kin.

“Do you actually want that?” Astrid asked. “Because if not, you might end up with a piece of equipment you don’t want.”

“Um, no,” Benedict said, looking at Olafson. 

“I figured,” the Kin said. “It’s not a bad thought, though.”

As soon as the doorway to the workshop was ahead of them, Olafson’s distraction melted away, and he almost skipped down the stairs with his large spatial pouch in hand as Vera stepped forward.

“Seems like you did pretty well against it,” Vera said, smiling at the Wanderers. “How were the berries?”

“They did well,” Astrid nodded. “After two breaths, even with supplementing it with my own mana, all the flames were gone, but they did their job.”

“That’s all I can hope for,” Vera shrugged. They followed the stairs into the workshop, where Olafson had already pulled the dragon out to lay on the massive work table. He was pulling on the fangs and investigating the various wounds across the creature’s body as Vera let out a low whistle.

“What?” Astrid asked, feeling a bit defensive.

“It’s a big bastard,” Vera said, shaking her head and leaning closer to it. She prodded along its neck, eventually finding a lump about halfway between its jaw and where the neck met the shoulders, and she grabbed it firmly.

“Is that the compressed mana you were talking about?” Astrid asked, letting curiosity get the better of her.

“Yeah,” the Greenthumb nodded. “I’m told that dragon breath is unnaturally strong. Haven’t had the misfortune of having to deal with it myself. Anyways, it can do that because it tightly compresses the mana while it’s still in its throat and then releases it in one huge burst.”

Astrid nodded, understanding. “That’s why it’s much heavier than I expected.”

“I would imagine so.”

“What parts did you negotiate for?” Olafson asked as he walked closer, continuing to inspect different parts of the corpse.

“The liver. And the venom from the irregulars. And don’t say anything about this being unfair to the kids,” she said as the Craftsman’s bushy eyebrows raised. “We negotiated. That’s the price they settled on, and they didn’t act unhappy about it at any point.”

He nodded, smiling a little, as he turned to the Wanderers and said, “She’ll probably owe you something, considering the deal you gave her. However, we are all trying to get along, so I’m just letting you know, and if you want to negotiate more strictly in the future, that’s up to you.”

“Yeah, we got the feeling with how negotiations went,” Benedict laughed. “That was our counteroffer, and she immediately took it, so… lessons learned, I suppose.”

“I wouldn’t cheat you,” Vera laughed. “I’m just going to teach you lessons!”

“Whatever,” Benedict said, though his gaze lingered on her longer than Astrid would have expected. Before she could go getting ideas, he asked, “just what tier are you? At the very least you’re high Steel, though I’d guess you’re high Mithril.”

“I’ll put it this way,” she said, smiling in a way more threatening than friendly. “I am the highest-level individual who you will interact with regularly around here. I’m not the highest level in town, not by a long shot, but I am the highest level who comes out of their house more than once or twice a year.”

“This place is just more of a mystery the more that I learn,” the Bard shook his head in disappointment. “But go ahead, take whatever it is you need.”

“Oh, I’ll leave the dirty work to Olafson. He’s pretty picky about how it gets done anyways.”

Astrid shrugged, not caring to see exactly what Olafson was doing to process the corpse, instead looking down at her shield and hammer, the two new pieces of equipment that had made such a difference for her already. The walk that they’d taken to get back to town had been enjoyable, an opportunity to relax, but she still wanted to get back into the Dungeon, to gain more levels. After all, that Boss alone had given her nearly 3,000 experience, and the other monsters that they killed between going up and down several times had resulted in another 30,000 experience for each person. That brought her to nearly 100,000 experience of the 300,000 needed for her to reach level 52.

“If we just push hard on the irregulars, maybe even to the point of upping their respawn rate, then we’d be able to get… maybe fifteen or twenty irregular kills in a day? Assuming twenty, that’s over 25,000 experience for each of us in one day, so long as their spawn rate doesn’t increase. Then we’ll call it another thirty regular kills, though they’ll almost all be of the next watershed, so that’s 2,100 experience each, making 425 experience for each of us. Multiplied by thirty… 12,750. Almost 40,000 experience for each of us, and I’d count it as 40,000 with one Boss kill in a day, even if it isn’t an irregular. But is that sustainable?”

“Astrid,” Skandr said, walking over and poking her in the neck. “I understand what you’re getting at, but this isn’t what we are doing right now. We’re not in a huge rush; we’re allowed to take it easy.”

“That’s true,” Astrid winced, “but the surge won’t last forever. I don’t even know how long it will last. We might as well take advantage of the bonus experience while it’s here, right? That’s just an opportunity for us to prove ourselves and get faster. So we might as well optimize, right? At that rate, which I suspect is a bit conservative, we could anticipate getting all the way to the end of the first watershed in under three months. That’s without pushing for higher levels as we get higher and can better deal with—”

“We can talk about this later,” Skandr laughed. “You’ll need to talk numbers with the Grove Warden before we start to plan anything, but focusing on getting some levels pretty fast would be nice. Having monsters that we’re fighting that are an entire watershed above us certainly helps to pick up speed, while, in this case, not just being us killing a bunch of easy enemies.”

“Exactly—”

“I meant it when I said we can talk about it tomorrow,” Skandr insisted. “For now, we’re going to see what kind of things we can work out with Olafson, as well as get a good meal in again. Tomorrow, whenever you want, you can get up to the Grove Warden and see what kind of numbers we might be able to hunt within the branch without causing any trouble. All right?”

Astrid sighed, though she also knew he was right. Throwing herself at the Dungeon again and again after she made a soft promise to herself to try to be at least a little more relaxed in her approach seemed counterproductive. As such, she didn’t argue with him and instead listened to Olafson as he observed the qualities of the materials of the dragon Boss.

***

After being promised another piece of equipment each, meaning that the Craftsman owed every member of the party two pieces of equipment, the party retreated to Michel’s inn, where they enjoyed another extravagant meal and went to get their rest. At that point, Astrid figured she might as well ask the Craftsman something that she hadn’t thought to do until now.

It was strange, not wearing her equipment outside of the inn, but she didn’t mind it. In the workshop, where she had left only an hour or two before, Astrid found Olafson. The Craftsman was carefully cutting the hide from the dragon, peeling it away with long, slow cuts with a knife that seemed to carve effortlessly through the connective tissue of hide and flesh.

“I like you, so I’m not going to be grumpy,” Olafson said, without giving her direct attention, “but this is my house. Maybe don’t come in without knocking?”

Astrid flushed and nodded. “I’m sorry. I just had a couple questions, and I knew what you would be doing right now, so I let myself in. I won’t do that again.”

“Great. Anyways,” he said, meeting her eyes, “what can I do for you?”

“I know you’re keeping in contact with people outside of Neverwood,” she explained. “I just wanted to know if maybe I could send a letter this way. You know, to somebody in Humanity’s Bulwark?”

“Yes, that’s possible,” he said, scratching his cheek, “but it’s pretty expensive.”

“You know I’m good for it,” Astrid chuckled. “Even if I don’t have it now, how much it costs wouldn’t be too difficult. I can’t imagine it’d be more than maybe a dozen or so gold, right?”

“That’s about right,” Olafson shrugged. “You don’t seem too bothered with that price, though. That’s stupidly expensive for a letter.”

Astrid nodded and couldn’t help but agree.

“Yes, and I guess that paying more than I did for multiple pieces of equipment in Bronze for a single letter now doesn’t feel so expensive. But you saw us today. We’re leaving more than that behind dozens of times every day. Might as well spend it on something that I want instead of just leaving it to rot.”

“True enough. Now, do you have that letter already? If not, I’ll need it in the next three days before I send out a shipment.”

“I’ll get it to you tomorrow,” Astrid nodded.

“If that’s the case, I would very much like to be allowed my space to continue this harvesting. Regardless of my Skill, this is not an easy task.”

Astrid took the dismissal for what it was and turned and walked out. That night, she wrote the letter to her parents, detailing that she’d evolved to Steel and was happy with her Class, but not much else. After all, she wasn’t sure how much she was allowed to share with people outside of the country for now. She was here by the good graces of the Verdant Walkers, which her parents already knew, and if they had any questions, they could ask them. As such, she enjoyed her night writing to her parents and containing a small note inside to be sent to Ana.

The letters written, Astrid found sleep came to her easily enough. However, given that she’d actually been pretty well rested of late, she didn’t find herself able to sleep in. Instead, she woke before the dawn, feeling well rested and ready to learn just how hard she and her party could push while the surge was still ongoing.

With a thought, Astrid was covered in her armor, and she made her way out of her room. She’d expected to be greeted by an empty hall and a dark hearth, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, one of the golems that filled the inn seemed to know she was coming out and popped its head out from the stairs, going to the first floor. It gestured her onward, and she followed to where it led.

A bag lay on the table there, and when she opened it, the smell of fresh bread greeted her.

“Thanks, Michel,” she said to the golem. It bowed, stately as can be, and she made her way out. She had a Grove Warden to speak with, and some information to gain about how much delving she and the party could indulge in. She wouldn’t wait any longer.