The Pinnacle Warrior

Adjusting her sitting stance, Astrid turned her shoulder so Skandr could read along with her. Immediately, she started to regret that choice as the letter started off with her father’s usual prying into her life. She couldn’t help but glance to the side as she read a reminder from her father to make her bed every day, as, “Starting the day off with a success will breed further success.”

Contrary to what she feared, the Wizard looked on at her letter with envy plain on his face. Astrid mentally cursed herself at that, knowing that he’d been left alone for so long due to his father’s abandonment and mother’s death. She turned her attention back to the letter and skimmed forward.

We are glad to hear of your success and growth. To hear that you are so quickly approaching your mother’s level is heartening. Surely, before long, you will be able to go wherever you wish without fear for your safety. My light, it has been lonely without you here, even though we have expected this as an eventuality for many years. Fortunately, I have spent my days caring for Ahna’s little Michael, who is a delight. With what’s coming, however, it has been much harder to find such pleasure in small things.

“With what’s coming?” Astrid said, looking at Skandr.

He didn’t answer her question, only gesturing for her to continue to read, which she did.

Your mother and I contemplated withholding this information from you, but we decided you deserve to know, that you are not a child to be coddled from the dangers and fearsome things of the world. Perhaps we did far too much of that for you when you were young, and for that, I believe we both would like to apologize. Regardless, here is the truth: war is, by the time you receive this, about to begin or already raging within the bounds of Humanity’s Bulwark.

The Arcanite tier dwellers from the Dungeon that we mentioned when last we saw each other have largely remained within the bounds of the country. They have occasionally left anyone’s awareness, but we have no way to tell where they have been going. However, one thing that is for sure is that they have firmly thrown in their lot with a revolting noble named only by her Class: the Marchioness. She has not yet begun hostilities in full; however, she has driven the Duchess out of Ginnastadt while also openly recruiting soldiers to her revolution. I cannot say what sort of success she has achieved with this outside of our home, but the Duchess has passed through various nearby towns and cities on her path to recruit soldiers to her own cause, to maintain the current status.

If I was to speak truthfully, I suspect that the Duchess will be forced to concede many points to the people who help her, and regardless of who finds victory in the battle, the face of our country will change greatly. Regardless, I hope for the Duchess’s success, not the least because your mother has decided to fight against the Marchioness.

Your mother and I both wish to express our hope that you remain uninvolved in this war. Regardless of your capability, of your strength, and your lifetime of willingness to fight for others, this is, in the end, a battle of vanity, whose results will affect you very little if you choose to maintain living on the path that you have followed from the Bestowal until now. If you remain uninvolved, you can continue to live the life of a delver, largely unimpeded by politics as you grow too strong for governments to hold much sway over you.

Regardless of our own desires, we have given you this information, and you may act upon it in whatsoever way you wish. My light, I love you, and I hope for you to remain in contact. To receive a letter from you is a true blessing.

Her father’s script ended with his signature and declaration of his love, and while Astrid wanted to say something to Skandr, instead she looked at the other, much smaller entry from her mother.

I’ve read what your father wrote. It’s all true, as is my desire for you to stay where you are. You chose not to walk the path of a soldier, and for that, I am grateful. Regardless of the lives that I have saved and the people I have protected, someone who kills people inevitably has small parts of their soul shaved away with each swing of their blade. If you find yourself capable of remaining away from the battlefield, I would have no greater security.

I love you, my daughter.

Astrid sat back against the wall, looking at the letter as she sat there, silent. She could tell that Skandr had finished reading before her, and she looked at him.

“What do you think?” he asked, taking the words from her mouth.

Unable to delay by asking him, she let out a long sigh.

“I don’t know,” she said simply. “I mean, we’re not soldiers. A few people that we’ve been a part of killing still stick with me. Even the Count Caelum, as terrible of a person as he was. Do I want to go and throw myself into a war that I know will have many, if not most, of the enemy forces comprised of people who have been forced into contracts or into aligning themselves with this Marchioness? Obviously not. Maybe they willingly signed on, but they can’t make choices anymore, and I don’t wanna make the ultimate choice of killing them.”

As she spoke, Astrid’s emotions swelled, and she had to stand up, pacing back and forth in her small room. She had no more than four steps in each direction, and she felt like a caged beast as she continued, “But I can”t leave it. What if me being there could save somebody else from being drawn into the war? What if I can keep Ahna safe or save my mom’s life? What if it protects a child who…”

Astrid’s agitation faded at that. Was she willing to go, fight, and kill, in the service of protecting a child? Of protecting countless children across the country?

“Looks like you made your choice,” Skandr said softly, walking up to her. He took her hands in his and looked up into her face. “For what it’s worth, I agree with you. I can remember being a kid who hadn’t been bestowed a Class yet on the streets. That’s not a good place to be, but I wouldn’t want to force myself from that age to enter into a contract with a noble.”

“The people we’re going to fight against, there will be parents among them,” Astrid said softly. “And some of them have made the choice, even without being forced into contracts.”

“It’s war,” Skandr said simply. “It’s going to be messy. People are going to die. Are you choosing for that blood to be spilled behind your back or by your hammer?”

Astrid chuckled, leaning forward and taking him into a hug. She only noticed that second that she was shaking, the fear of now making a choice to enter a war making her throat go dry. Something inside of her stomach twisted, and she tried to quiet the turbulent emotion in her.

“We need to talk to the rest of the party,” Astrid said.

Skandr nodded as he patted her back.

***

“How soon can we go?” Benedict asked, his shoulders square and his gaze piercing.

“If there was anyone who I thought might hesitate, I thought it would be you,” Astrid said, smiling a bit as she finished her explanation.

“You met my family,” he said simply. “The only one of all of them who might eventually have some desire to do anything bloodier than clean a chicken is Sarah, and she’s only fourteen.”

Astrid quirked a smile at him and nodded. “As for your question, we’ll need to figure out what sort of mobilization we have once we make a decision. However, we can’t make any decisions until we’ve all made our decision on what we’re going to do. And, I have to say that I don’t know anything about how wars are actually waged. Like, wouldn’t the movements of the Adamantium tier people be the most important part?”

“The people at those tiers do not easily enter war,” Muti spoke up. “I have heard that part of the intent of those who allow wars to continue is to hone the strength of those below them. Beyond that, we will need to speak with those with greater experience than us.”

“While you and Skandr have made your decision,” he said, his attitude all business, ”I have too. Felix?”

The frontliner didn’t answer immediately, then let out a long sigh.” I don’t like the nobles. I don’t like what they’ve done, and I don’t like what they stand for. I don’t know if I’m a soldier, though.”

“Are you serious?” Benedict snapped. “You’re almost Mithril tier, and you’re saying that you don’t think you’re willing to fight for other people? That’s an embarrassment.”

“I didn’t finish,” Felix said, scowling at the Bard. “And even if that was my decision, it’s not your place to judge me when you’ve already said that you wouldn’t be here anymore if the nobles weren’t threatening you anyway. I’m allowed to make my own decisions, and I do not have you looking at me like, somehow, the reasons why you make your decisions are better than mine.”

Benedict worked his jaw for a moment before nodding and apologizing. “You’re right. I won’t interrupt you. Sorry.”

Felix nodded and then continued.

“I’m not a soldier. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to go around killing a bunch of people. However, I’m even more incapable of not standing for what is right. Frankly, the nobles are terrible, and if this war makes it so that they can’t continue to abuse their power like they have until now, then you can count me in.”

After that, all four Human pairs of eyes turned toward Muti. The Barbarian’s face was impassive, her eyes slightly narrowed as she looked at the rest of the party.

”Do you think that I would be able to enter a Human civil war without causing problems? Would not me supporting your cause as a Barbarian be counter to what you are trying to achieve?”

“I don’t think so,” Astrid shrugged. “The country doesn’t have no immigrants, even if the Verdant Walkers and Hiveguard stick to their own countries.”

“I am not a person who will live in your country forever, though,” Muti pushed. “I will return to my home and only come to yours with an occasional visit eventually.”

“That’ll be fine,” Astrid said, making her tone firm. “You lived there for years, you’re a valued member of our party, and anyone who doesn’t want you there is an enemy anyway.”

“I still remember how your mother looked at me,” Muti insisted, her attention still solidly on Astrid. “Do you believe that if you bring me with you to fight a war on your ground, I will not be seen as an enemy, even by people who agree with you?”

Instead of answering immediately, Astrid shrugged as she took a moment to think. Her own reaction to Muti when they first came in contact, as well as that of all of the other people in Kznietch, couldn’t be forgotten.

“I am your blood-bound sister,” Astrid said, making firm eye contact with Muti. “Anyone who is unable to accept that cannot in any way be considered an ally of mine.”

Muti smiled broadly at that, her hesitant demeanor washing away in the fierceness of her grin. “Then you may count on my presence, leader. I will do what you command, kill who you hate, and conquer those who stand in your way.”

“This isn’t going to be a war of conquest,” Astrid said, making firm eye contact with Muti. “So don’t get ahead of yourself.”

The Barbarian laughed and waved her off, saying, “It was a joke. I will only do what you tell me, nobody else.”

Astrid laughed under her breath and nodded. Then, meeting every other member of the party’s gaze, she said, “If we’re going, then we need to get planning on how to get there, and also I’ll figure out what we’re going to do before we go.”

“Olafson’s probably the guy to talk to about traveling,” Benedict offered. “Plus, we’ll want as good of equipment as we can manage to get before we go, so finding out what our options are for rush delivery will be particularly important. Even if it ends up being less customized equipment, but just good Mithril tier stuff. I’m happy to talk with him if Skandr will come help me with the negotiations.”

“Once we figure out what the general timelines will be for getting over there, we can make better plans about what we do before leaving,” Astrid agreed. “Does anybody have anything you absolutely want to do before we go?”

“It would be stupid to not at least hit level 81 before we go,” Skandr said. “The additional level doesn’t matter as much as getting our final Skills, especially for Muti since she’s focusing on getting a burst Skill.”

“I’ll talk with Gabriel about finding either a branch or an entrance to the Dungeon proper that has access to low Mithril tier monsters,” Astrid nodded along. “Even if we don’t end up pushing all the way to level 90, who knows how long the war will keep going. If we’ve made sure to do everything that we can to put ourselves in a good position moving forward, then we should do that.”

“I will come with you,” Muti said.

Astrid didn’t say anything back, just nodding as the party quickly came together and made decisions on what they should do to prepare to get moving. They’d made the decision to go to war. It was only a question of when first contact with the enemy would be.

***

Brighid

“Strengthen the western flank.”

Commander Sylvie’s voice wasn’t raised, but it snapped across the battlefield to Brighid. Her Skills let her commands be carried directly to who needed to hear them, and Brighid felt her attributes rise in response to the aura. She was grateful. Sylvie was a low Mithril tier who had been raised from Bronze tier to be just that: a Commander. She, so far as Brighid knew, didn’t have a single combat Skill and didn’t wear armor. Instead, her equipment was heavily enchanted to strengthen her ability to serve as the mind behind a battle. The Commander was flanked by her bodyguards, and Brighid stopped paying her attention.

Instead, with her squad running at her side, Brighid rushed toward the western flank. To her vision, the battle here was holding steady, but she didn’t have the insight of decades of experience directing battles, nor the expertise in understanding the minute details that warned of an incoming collapse in discipline or morale. She was a soldier, she went where she was commanded.

In a few short seconds, she shared the grace of her wind with her four squadmates and then, leaping above several of her allies, she sent swathes of flame concentrated into cutting blades at the enemies on the front lines.

The frontliners there raised their shields and activated steadfast Skills, but the battlefield had been fought by low Steel-tiers and high Irons until now, so a high Steel appearing and ambushing them had only one possible result. The exhausted troops filled her vision with kill notifications. The Classes that flashed in her vision reminded her that most of these people weren’t here by their own choice: ”Contract-Strengthened Soldier,” ”Contract-Bound Guardian,” and ”Contract-Compelled Assassin” made her think of Astrid and her allies.

She gritted her teeth against that thought, knowing that her appearance had drawn the attention of other combatants. That knowledge was swiftly proven correct, as three arrows shot toward her from various different angles. They all homed in on her without error, and she jumped out of the middle of her allies to throw out more cutting flames at two of the arrows. One was destroyed by her defense, but the other two arrows still shot toward her.

She created solid steps of wind under her feet and jumped another fifteen meters higher into the air before bracing her arm and smashing her shield into one of the arrows while the other attempted to catch up to her.

The arrow that struck her shield exploded into ice, covering her arm from her hand up to her shoulder. Brighid grunted in pain as the second arrow shot toward her, but she let herself fall from the air as Alta, her Shieldmaster squadmate, stepped forward and took the blow instead of the more fragile Brighid.

“Stand together!” Brighid shouted as the weaker combatants on the front lines either cheered or screamed in the wake of their arrival.

The enemies, despite being compelled by contracts, had enough sense of self to pull back from the opponents who could wipe them out with careless strikes. In the vacuum that opened up in the battlefield, the enemy squad of elites rushed forward, three shield-bearing brutes charging with some sort of Skill that created a ten-meter wall of mana that transformed into a galloping mammoth.

“There are more of them than there are of us,” Brighid said, keeping her tone light. “However, the war hasn’t even begun in earnest. Surely we’ll be able to show them what the Duchess’s chosen people can do.”

Despite her own uncertainty regarding her belief in those words, Brighid had a good enough read on her allies to know what kind of result they would have. Cheers of valor and excitement filled the air as Brighid led her squad into the charge forward.

She’d make sure as many of them lived through this as possible.