The Pinnacle Warrior

Once the decision to move to the appropriate, level-leveled entrance to the Dungeon proper had been made, all that remained was actually doing what they had planned. Olafson was the simplest to complete their final dealings with, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little as Benedict bemoaned that their delivery today was their last irregular frost dragon Boss corpse’s sale.

“I have a fair amount of the materials still in storage,” the Craftsman said, waving off any thoughts of overwhelming, limitless riches. “In the end, a dozen irregular Steel tier dragon Boss materials are valuable, but part of that is because of their scarcity. I got a lot of attention selling what I did, but if there’s too much of a limited material, it’s not worth much. So, I’ve sold what can’t be kept away for now, and I’m holding onto a lot of the materials that I don’t necessarily want to use myself.”

“But every one of them was selling for five thousand gold!” Benedict groaned. “That’s so much money!”

Finally, Astrid could say something that she had figured out a while before, but had neglected to tell Benedict. With a broad grin on her face, she asked, “You don’t think that the bodies were only worth five thousand gold, right?”

“That’s how much he’s paying us—” Benedict stopped talking and glared at the Simian Kin. “Of course you’re making a profit off of the materials. I’m an idiot. What’s the margin?”

Olafson’s smile became positively predatory as he stood up.

“The first one I sent to market sold for 11,562 gold, plus the buyer paying for all customs and shipping. The price has gone down since, but I still stand to make back everything I paid just by selling the excess that I don’t want. I’ll still have the most valuable materials to use myself too!”

Benedict opened his mouth to start to argue, and instead just hung his head and surrendered.

Olafson took that for what it was, shook every member of the Wanderers party by the hand, and asked, “How’s all the new equipment treating you?”

“Amazingly,” Astrid was the first to answer. “Spacing it out a little bit has been really good for me at least. Now, I am just about as boosted as I can be, and the upgrade to my sling has been great as well.”

“I’ve been surprised at how quickly you’ve picked up these more niche enchantments,” Olafson said with a nod as he looked at Skandr. “At this point, you probably could’ve done most of the work on Felix’s shield.”

“Don’t flatter me,” Skandr laughed. “I know that you did a whole lot more than just some enchantments on the shield. You added a whole lot to it in material and form, things that I simply can’t do.”

Olafson just shrugged, and the party started to walk away before he called out to them, “Did you not want your payment?”

Astrid stopped mid-step, looking back at the mischievous Kin.

“Our standing agreement has been to wait for you to be able to collect the money to pay us once we’ve gotten all of our equipment. Even though each of us has one more piece that we’re not quite comfortable wearing full-time yet, I was under the impression that you didn’t have enough gold to pay us.”

“I didn’t,” the Craftsman answered. “As I’ve told you, I usually get paid in materials since actual money isn’t worth a whole lot here. However, I finally got enough of the payment in gold to be able to get you all paid off.”

As he said it, he held a pouch up that, to Astrid’s gaze, seemed to be perhaps a bit too small to hold the thousands of gold that he owed them.

Then, as she stepped closer, she could have sworn that she recognized the leather that made the pouch.

“Is this a spatial pouch? Made from pocket ermine?”

“Yes and yes,” he answered, tossing it over. “By my estimation, it should just about perfectly hold a single Boss dragon of the size that you’ve been killing. A bit smaller than my best pouch, but it’ll do for a bunch of Steel tier upstarts, shouldn’t it?”

“I feel like I have to say this,” Benedict said, stopping Astrid from beginning to peek into the new, much more valuable spatial pouch. “How much did you deduct for the creation and offering of this bag? I don’t know if we can safely say that we can afford it.”

Olafson smiled as he vaulted over the countertop to stand in front of Benedict. He stretched one of his very large hands out, and Benedict took it hesitantly.

“All of the materials that you all have given me have been enough for me to lay the foundation for several Skills that I’ve been working on for years,” Olafson said by way of explanation. “Though the materials themselves do not suit my tier, what they are makes up for that, and has shown me avenues to further explore as I gain levels due to the mana density within the materials.

“What you have sold to me has been, frankly, almost more valuable in the materials themselves in terms of experience to be gained. So, I’ve given you payment for everything that you have sold to me, and I’m considering the spatial pouch as a gift to a party that I have no doubt will be leaving me far behind them in less than a decade. Remember me when you’re knocking on the watersheds and levels that lead to Adamantium and even Arcanite.”

That confidence he felt in her made a tear well up in Astrid’s eye, and she stepped forward and took the Craftsman into a hug.

Olafson returned it, his too-long arms wrapping easily around her despite the height difference.

“Thank you,” she said, nodding.

“It’s been my pleasure,” Olafson smiled back, the grin softening to something almost paternal, and it made Astrid miss her father.

She still hadn’t heard anything back from them after sending her letter, but it hadn’t been more than a month, and she couldn’t say how efficient Olafson’s trade network would be in terms of delivering a letter to a different country.

Muti stepped forward and did the same, though the softness that Olafson had displayed for Astrid disappeared. Instead, in a movement that took everybody by surprise, he grappled with Muti for a few brief seconds, his arms seemingly easily twisting Muti’s arms behind her as he bared his teeth at her in a very Barbarian fashion.

“You could have been sparring with us this whole time?” the Lethal Shadow demanded, a grin on her own face. “You were always this strong?”

“I figured that letting you know this now would be a good way for me to guarantee that you come back at some point, if nothing else than to test your strength against mine,” he said.

“I shall return,” Muti laughed. “What level are you? So that I may return within ten levels of where I estimate you to be?”

“Right now,” he answered, “I’m level 123. Typically, I gain about three levels a year, though I suspect the next two years will be closer to five. If you take too long, I might even be knocking on the boundary to Adamantium before you return.”

“I shall close the gap quickly,” she bared her teeth. “Then I shall return and prove myself against the renowned wrestling of the Simian Kin.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it,” Olafson smiled, bowed his head, and took Muti into a much gentler hug.

Then, he stepped back, and the Wanderers walked out of the workshop.

“I must confess,” Astrid said, “I don’t know anything about the different types of Kin and what they might be known for.”

Muti quickly fell into excited explanations of the Simian Kin being grapplers able to force even monsters to submit. Even so, she barely got started before the conversation died. It wasn’t long before the party was walking into Vera’s shop to… well, ostensibly, they were there to receive a fair amount of specialized fruits and vegetables that could serve as healing potions, mana potions, defensive enhancement, and so on while Benedict gathered himself to speak with her. However, she had known this day was coming and had prepared everything that she owed them for various deliveries of high-quality ingredients.

In about two minutes, the handover was complete, and Benedict was left there standing, his hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly as he swallowed no fewer than seven times over the course of thirty seconds.

“All right. Good luck on your journey!” Vera said, looking at the party with what Astrid could tell was a very deliberately obtuse face.

However, Benedict didn’t say anything, so Astrid let it be, nodding her thanks to the Greenthumb as she spoke.

“Thanks. We’ll be back sometime in the next month at least,” the party leader said, glancing down at Benedict, who swallowed one more time and then grit his teeth.

“Next time we come back to Neverwood, would you like to spend some time with me?”

Astrid forced herself not to smile or laugh, instead looking at the nervous man beside her. The surprise at the sudden, awkward proposition was washed away as she remembered the very real discomfort Benedict had in front of women, and she mentally rebuked herself for the brief amusement. Instead, she turned her gaze to Vera.

The freckles dusted across her nose… did they seem to darken? Were the tips of her ears red, or was it just the spring day?

“What is it that you would like to do as we spend time together?” Vera asked, her tone not seeming at all nervous.

“Um, to go on a date?” Benedict answered, his already anxious frame shrinking in on itself even more.

“When would that be? And what specifically would you like to do?”

“I don’t know. In probably a month. And whatever you’d like to do.”

“Then ask me again on the day that you return. Perhaps I’ll be available. Perhaps not.”

Astrid felt her face screw up in anger at that.

Vera dismissed him out of hand?

Benedict shrank even further, nodding and muttering apologies under his breath as he started to walk away.Astrid opened her mouth to shout, scold, or something, but Vera met her eyes. Something in the way that she looked at Astrid held her back, and as Benedict slunk away with Skandr and Felix flanking him, before Astrid or Vera could say anything, Muti leaned over the counter to put a threatening finger in Vera’s face.

“He may be a hyena that yips and laughs all day long, but he is a member of my pack. He has saved my life and that of the rest of us multiple times, and to be discounted as unworthy for a foolish reason is one that will gain my ire. Explain yourself.”

Vera’s face twisted from being perhaps slightly regretful to a more common grin as she raised her eyebrow at Muti.

“I don’t think he’s unworthy,” she answered simply. “I just don’t think we would be a particularly good match, part of that reason being because I could be his grandmother. Most people don’t get levels at nearly the same pace that you and your party do, and I’m not a young woman, despite my youthful exuberance. So, yes, when he returns, if he wishes to continue to pursue me, perhaps something can be worked out. However, he’s a child. All of you are, and I’ve spent more years playing around in my garden on experiments that never come to light than any two of you have been alive.”

“A mere difference in age is no valid excuse,” Muti refuted. “A lack of desire makes more sense, and should be communicated directly if that is the honest truth you wish to speak. If it is not that, such weak and childish attempts at dismissal will result in undue expectations and hope. If you wish to potentially pursue something, say so. If you wish to deter him, do so.”

A part of Astrid thought about how this seemed to be a different approach to romance than Muti had professed in the past, but she didn’t mention that. Instead, she just looked at Vera, who seemed to be prepared to listen to whatever insults Astrid had to throw.

“I’m not sure why you’re saying this to us instead of to him,” she said with a shrug. “It seems pretty childish to be unwilling to actually explain yourself to the person in question.”

“And I’m not going to explain all of my reasons to you,” Vera said simply. “However, you know that every person in this little settlement has our reasons for being here, and it isn’t simply because we thought that living in the middle of an abandoned forest without any contact with the outside world except through occasional letters would be fun.”

Astrid took a deep breath and shrugged again. “If that’s the case, then you can’t begrudge me for thinking that you’re like a child who’s pouting in the corner.”

“Don’t get it twisted,” Vera said, a grin again fully cracking her face. “I am a pouty child. If I was more mature than I am, I wouldn’t imagine that I would still be here after all these years. If I can boast of one thing, it’s my Class and what I can do with it. If I can boast of two things, it’s my Class and my willingness to hold a grudge and nurse it and treat it with as much tenderness as a new sapling.“

“…You’re insane,” Astrid said, determining to tell Benedict, with more conviction than she’d ever thought she could, that he’d managed to dodge a romance with somebody that refused to make a single lick of sense.

“Toodles!” Vera said in response, waving her fingers as a series of vines sprouted from between the floorboards and pushed the two Steel tier delvers away.

“Your people frequently say that women are difficult to understand,” Muti broke the silence between them as the building closed up in front of them.

“Yes.”

“I always thought that was stupid, until this very moment. If most Human women are like that one there, I would agree, only with the stipulation that the saying be that Human women are difficult to understand.”

“I’ve never met anybody like her,” Astrid said, shaking her head. “Probably for the best.” Then, she smiled over at Muti, whose pointed ears continued to twitch with her emotion. “One of your pack, is he? ’Cause—”

“I only said pack because I called him a hyena,” Muti shrugged. “And he knows that I consider him a friend and reliable, though annoying.”

“Do you actually think he’s annoying though?” Astrid pressed.

“Here, where he might be listening? Yes, I would say that I do.”

The conspiratorial smile on Muti’s face showed that, just as she expected, Muti didn’t find herself nearly so adverse to Benedict’s usual silly ways.

With that, the party reunited and worked together to attempt to console Benedict as they made their way out of town.

Unlike usual, the bard was quiet, despondent even, and Astrid really didn’t know what to do with this.Felix and Muti had worked out with seemingly no real issues, and Ana and Jan had naturally fallen in love at some point when Astrid wasn’t paying attention. What to do to comfort somebody who had been rejected? She had no clue, and she distinctly felt that inexperience as she was left mostly wordless for several kilometers.

Felix too was mostly quiet, while Skandr was the only one who succeeded in getting Benedict to speak.

“—I just thought that she’d at least give me a chance,” Benedict said.

“I don’t think she said you don’t have a chance,” Skandr hedged, “but I don’t think that you have a great chance. Maybe if you’re more confident then she will care?”

“That’s pretty terrible advice,” Benedict said, kicking a rock underfoot and sending it sailing into the trees and through a sapling.

“Don’t damage the forest!” a familiar voice commanded, and the party slowed as a squirrel hopped out onto the path.

“Hello, Pollock,” Astrid said, sighing as she looked at the squirrel. Regardless of how much time they had spent in the town, the resident Barbarian guard had never even begun to warm up to them, much less be friendly. “We’re on our way to the Dungeon proper entrance to the northeast.”

“Alright,” he answered, the squirrel shrugging in a strangely personlike way. “Good riddance. There’s no settlement there, so you’ll need to get permission from the Grove Wardens over there to hunt and gather whatever else you need for your delve. And when  you inevitably return, make sure you don’t go tromping and rushing all over to send people into a panic. If you’re constantly acting that way, then nobody will know when there’s a real emergency.” 

“It’s not a problem if we—and he’s gone,” Astrid grumbled, trying to respond to the irritable Barbarian, who’d simply had his squirrel run off into the forest. Instead of having a conversation, the Wanderers were left alone, with one of their number depressed and at least their leader excited to finally enter the Dungeon proper. 

“Then I guess we just… go?” Astrid said, looking at the rest. None complained or disagreed, and just like that, they left Neverwood behind.