Our evening ride turned uneasy as the horses climbed the hill toward the shack. Rows of raw stumps marked the hillside, as though a logging crew had stripped it bare. No weapons or corpses lay in view either. Zero evidence of Black Diamond's mercenaries' blood being spilled remained.

  The shack at the top of the hill remained unchanged. It was still shabby, and still had a hole in the wall from where Xodoven and I had fought. But mounds of dirt surrounded the edge of the hilltop.

  "Is this your doing?” Viessa asked.

  "No."

  We dismounted, approached the shack, and claws scurried across the wood. Inside, a brand new staircase occupied the entire back half of the shack.

  "This isn't what I meant when I said dig a hole and wait."

  Dreadful, mumbling whispers serenaded our descent into the sprawling basement, which eclipsed the shack's square footage by several magnitudes. A series of torches affixed to the walls flickered with grey flames. It painted the basement in the dreariness of an overcast, winter day.

  The elf's teeth chattered as she pulled her hood tight. She held her hand out over a torch affixed to the wall.

  "It's freezing," she said, shuddering as the whispers caught her ear. "The damned are wailing in sorrow."

  "Fayador, don't concern yourself with Viessa. Show yourself."

  I whistled and the mutt emerged out of a shadow on the floor. The elf muttered prayers under her breath until she quit mid sentence and threw her hands down at her sides, realizing there was no point.

  Fayador's rotten ears perked up, bony tail wagging. "Lord of Darkness, congratulations on initiating the end times! You must be ecstatic."

  "Goddamnit, I told you not to call me that. I'm a hero, called forth to save the world."

  "Oh, I see." His ears pinned back. "I apologize for curating such a jovial atmosphere."

  "If you can't recognize which side you're on..."

  "No, my sincerest apologies master," he whimpered. "My only purpose is to serve."

  As his apology rolled off my back, I noticed an unfinished fireplace sat at the other end of the room.

  "Where did you get the supplies? How did you build this? I wanted you to lay low, not pull off an unsanctioned construction job."

  Shadows uncoiled from Fayador’s ribcage, shaping arms and hands with opposable thumbs. An image I immediately wished to forget.

  "The fireplace is unfinished. I haven't built the chimney yet. I only claimed resources from the hill. Are you not pleased?"

  "How can I understand you? Are you speaking elvish?" Viessa asked.

  Fayador cackled. "A devout elf unknowingly speaking the banished tongue. Each time we meet, reality derails further.”

  Viessa covered her mouth in horror.

  "Master's Divine Framework is amazing, isn't it? The XP bonus has already gotten my construction skill to level 3. You both should've seen the first staircase. It was a total nightmare."

  Fayador’s construction skill spawned numerous questions regarding what unknown skills lay waiting to be discovered.

  "Yeah, great job. But I didn't spare you for extreme home makeovers. I've come for information, starting with the Oblivion Protocol."

  The mutt nodded. "It's an eclectic apocalypse program, and not a very popular one at that. It's ancient. There are several better, more modernized models. Some would even go as far as to call the Oblivion Protocol a failure."

  "Then we can stop it."

  Fayador cackled again, and Viessa crossed her arms, glaring at full force. The dog unfurled its void tongue, wagging its skeletal tail. "No. Once a divine edict is set, it cannot be reversed."

  "But, Justice said if we kill the acolyte we can save the world."

  "Ah, yes. A soft landing where five percent of the population survives is one possible outcome."

  "Five percent?"

  "Well, I'm not familiar with Gadika. Is this a human world that has achieved unity and peace on a global scale?"

  "We're doomed,” I muttered.

  The mutt's rotten ears perked up. "The Oblivion Protocol is a measured end dependent on the realm's balance. The deeper the corruption, the swifter its phases commence. Restoring balance may weaken the acolyte and blunt the second phase, but don't mistake that for salvation."

  Leave it to the demonic pooch to offer up a better explanation than one of God's own attendants.

  Even with Gadika's fate resting on my shoulders, my desire to kill Chaos rose above all other responsibilities. I exhaled and watched my breath curl into a pale vapor that drifted up through the tomb's frigid air.

  "What's with these creepy torches? Are these magical air conditioning units or something?"

  Fayador wagged his tail. "Those are soul flames. I harvested them from the corpses littering the hilltop. If you provide me with more bodies I can complete the throne I started."

  "No, I don't want a fucking bone throne. A noble adventurer would never sit in something so ghastly. And can you turn these down? Somehow they're both eerie and annoying."

  "Please help...," a whisper broke out from the grey flames flickering from the torch on the wall.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Fayador turned 360 degrees, shadows extending from his body. The lights dimmed further, and the incessant moans transitioned into soft whistles.

  "My apologies, Master. I can have them removed."

  I waved my hands, dismissing the concern. "No, it's fine. This could be nice on hot summer days."

  Viessa stood shell shocked. Her expression suggested she was unlikely to give the undead hound ear rubs now or in the distant future.

  "And my shadow?"

  Fayador broke eye contact, staring past me at the darkness against the wall like he was conversing with it in silence. Moments later, the mutt nodded and its tail resumed wagging.

  "Eh, this topic is a touchy one. If I misspeak, boom! I'll be scraping you off the walls. Only when you've reached a higher level can we speak safely," Fayador said.

  Accepting anything but a concrete answer felt like defeat. But I knew the dog was right. Even passing thoughts regarding it threatened to bring me to my knees.

  "Fine."

  "I think I need to sit down," Viessa said as she pulled off her mesh mask and hood.

  "Right away," Fayador said gleefully, as he dashed to a dark corner and dragged out a half-finished chair made from human bones.

  "On the horse--outside," Viessa said, making a swift departure up the stairs.

  "I think this went well," I added.

  Fayador bowed his skeletal head, torn flesh sagging across his snout. "It’s been a pleasure, Master. I greatly look forward to your return."

  "Return? No, you're coming with us."

  ***

  Target: Toom

  Level: 9

  Karma: -9,555

  Additional Data: Age 39. Male. Works under contract for Murpharion's estate. Collects an ear from each of his victims, and is currently filling his 11th jar.

  He loomed over Kelfloss, in the same warehouse filled with stolen goods where I had slain his men the night before. While Viessa guided the horses, I sat in the wagon and tapped into Void Seer, accessing the tether point I had established a night ago.

  Thankfully, the corner I had chosen remained dark, despite an array of newly installed mage lights.

  "You weren't there. You don't understand, otherwise we'd all be heading for the ports," Kelfloss said. "The darkness devoured them!"

  "We have one of the realm's premiere counter-magic mages with us." Toom nodded toward Malik, a level 8 mage cloaked in a striking blue robe with padded shoulders. "I hope the phantom wasn't bluffing about coming back."

  "He's coming back. I can sense it in my bowels. Please speak to Mr. Murpharion on my behalf... I hear there's a gap in Durotai's market. A scuffle within the Devil's Alliance has tripled the demand for the weapon's trade. Tell him I have the connections to establish a profitable operation."

  "After this annoyance is dealt with."

  Fifty of Daven Murpharion's finest hired blades were posted throughout the warehouse. They were mostly level 4s and 5s, with a couple of sixes sprinkled in.

  Kelfloss sat in a chair in the center of the warehouse, bathing in the light provided by an assortment of magelights, torches, and antique oil lamps. Beads of sweat glinted across his forehead, shining with the weight of sleepless worry.

  "Did you bear my other petition to Daven?" he asked.

  "For another fifty men and the Herald of Chains? I'd never skewer my pride for your comfort. Shut up, and conduct your business. The Shadow Warden, and Ember are on their way."

  Malik sighed as he brushed a strand of golden hair from his brow. "This phantom seems to strike every organization except the Slaver's Union..."

  "I share your sentiments, but Master Murpharion has already eliminated such a notion. When has he been wrong?"

  "Never," Malik and Kelfloss said in unison.

  I wasn't impressed. Not in the slightest. If this was the best Daven Murpharion could muster, then taking control of Ingcaster's underworld would be a much simpler task than I had anticipated.

  ***

  We arrived at the Gilded Boar Adventurer's Guild a few hours past dawn. As we handed off our horses in the stables, Kora came running and screaming.

  "Cyprus! Cyprus! Where have you been?! The vice captain's furious." Kora tried grabbing my arm, but I slipped through her grasp.

  "We'll be right in. Fix us two coffees. It's been an arduous trip. Thank you." I waved her off, lips stretched in a false smile.

  CCFV3.37C - Realm Data Parsing Complete.

  CCFV3.37C - Optimizing Dynamic Quest Routing.

  I read the text twice over without a reaction. Outside of the skills provided by the system, the lacking tutorial, and previous hacked quest module left my expectations in the gutter.

  I had already been made a fool by the system once. Each time I thought about it, an undeniable anger surfaced. I pictured Chaos sitting in a recliner with his feet up, sipping beer, and laughing with two perfectly intact legs. Taking one of them hardly softened the blow to my ego. Especially since it wasn't my strength, but the interloper's that took it.

  I blinked twice and we were inside the guild's meeting room, getting yelled at by Eamon while Jing nodded along.

  When have I last slept?

  "Your absence is inexcusable." Eamon slammed the table with his palms.

  "Don't do that once our coffees get here. They'll spill."

  Eamon's knuckles turned white, hands balled tight. When he decided not to break anything, he spat into his hand and slicked back his hair.

  Gross. That’s how he slicks back? Not magic mousse, but coffee colored saliva!

  "You work for the Gilded Boar. I don't care if a job only takes an afternoon. You report back here immediately once it’s complete. Do you understand?"

  "No, but let's move on."

  "Not until you explain where you were."

  "Training. It's obvious this country doesn't care for it, otherwise these adventurers wouldn't fold like paper in piss easy dungeons.”

  I definitely wasn't out in the Silverlight Plains ushering in the apocalypse.

  "There are limits to what can be achieved with training."

  I didn't bother with any further argument, eager for him to get on with it.

  "Disregarding your absence, Valor and Glory's dungeon report was lacking, and Westcott was taken by Black Diamond. According to our contact, Pearl Banner offered him up without resistance. Seems Burtrip blames him for getting their organization involved with you. I hear Anderhorn Spire is still shaken from the fallout. I almost feel bad for him. Burtrip will torture the poor bastard, probably pretending he's you, until he tires of it and hangs him."

  "That's terrible news."

  "What happened in the dungeon, regarding the boss? Everything in the report suggests your presence was crucial in saving the raid from collapse during the split. They described it as one of the larger dungeons on record, yet it was cleared in a mere afternoon. Explain how that's possible."

  "Everything was going swell until the boss ambushed us. Westcott, Griffin, and Nassir defeated it, sustaining heavy losses and saving my life. I'll never forget those sweet, tender souls and their selfless sacrifices."

  "Horseshit!" Eamon shouted. "The details don't add up. You know as well as I do, they wanted you dead."

  "Huh? We resolved our differences and used our newfound friendship to overcome adversity." I paused, wearing a solemn expression as I shook my head. "I too wanted to know how they defeated such a strong lich. Where is Westcott being held? Anderhorn or their headquarters north of Vaulter? The least I can do is bring him a gift card."

  "Burtrip spent the night drilling his bones. Our source claims he never screamed," Eamon said, bewildered. “If the lich was powerful enough to mind-wipe, then they'd all be dead. This outcome feels wrong."

  Jing drummed his fingertips across the table. "Pearl Banner signed off on Valor and Glory's report with no complaints. I believe it's in our best interests to leave it for the crows. Their chief envoy seemed eager to put their friction with Cyprus to rest. Losing a premier raid team is no mere setback. Also, the amulet we've acquired will fetch a fair sum at auction.”

  Jing pinched his mustache, curling it out and over his upper lip with a grin. "I had my doubts, but I'm pleasantly surprised. Good work Cyprus."

  CCFV3.37C - Dynamic Quest Route Optimized.

  [Quest Alert]

  An Apocalypse Before Paperwork? - Quickly register an adventurers party at the Gilded Boar.

  Rewards - 1 Mastery Point, 250 XP

  [Accept Quest? Y/N]