“Ah, here it is. DevilWalker! I found it,” Nox called through the chamber of the Cathedral.

  Appearing from near the entrance of the chamber, Colin walked up behind Nox. The Goblin was looking at the floor of the rubble made alcove where the Mythic sword blank, previously Lorelei’s Profane Nature, once waited. Under a thick layer of dust was drawn a four-foot-wide double circle where an intricate set of symbols was drawn within it.

  “This is the way out?” Colin asked, waving at the circle.

  “Indeed. Every single dungeon has something like this so that you won’t have to fight your way back out. Most that I’ve met believed it was the gods being a little fair,” Nox told Colin with a shrug. “Not that it matters for us either way. We have our way out, and that’s what matters. Are you prepared to leave?”

  Colin was nodding his affirmative when Nox stroked his chin in thought. “Actually, I think we should stay for a few more minutes. Do you have anything else for your… Avenger class and whatever you need to do? It might be best to do so now before others can see you do anything.”

  With everything going on. Colin actually forgot half the stuff he needed or wanted to do. There were several things on that list, but luckily, none of them should take long.

  “You’re right, Nox. Give me a few minutes?” Colin asked.

  Nox nodded.

  Prioritizing, Colin smiled at the first thing he wanted to do.

  “Level up,” Colin intoned as a new screen emerged.

  Without putting his points anywhere first, he focused in on the first attribute, Strength. It took a moment for the system to interpret his will before a pop-up appeared.

  Good to know, so Colin did the rest.

  Nodding to himself as he absorbed everything here and thought about one of the stats, in particular, wisdom. The way it worded a single part tickled a thought he’d been having for a few days. He’d been acting in ways that his training and experience would say not to. When he was caught by Yaric outside Harvey’s apartments, trusting Monty and his group even though it was obvious that they were assholes, it may have gone all the way back to when he was first building the character when he’d chosen his name.

  It was more than a little spooky that a game could affect him at such a fundamental level, but maybe this was the way it worked for everybody. It might not have been something that the game could avoid, or perhaps he was just stupid to not try and see what the characteristics did earlier. One way or another, this was a stat he needed to level up the most.

  But, there was that extra bit in there about Hubris.

  “Open Hubris Ability,” he commanded to the air.

  That cemented that even further. First, Colin put two of his thirty points in everything, making all his characteristics at an even twelve. Next, he put a further three points each in dexterity and speed since these were his primary means of attack. One to build and charisma since both would come in handy. And lastly, he spent the last six on his wisdom score, hopefully, to curb his stupidity.

  Now, with that done, Colin moved onto the next choice he had to make. He pulled up the options of abilities and skills from earlier and gave them a quick review. Currently, ‘I am me’ was out only because he needed his first choice to be something immediately useful. He almost removed ‘Unyielding Skill’ for the same reason, but a ten percent boost to skill experience was going to be helpful. Especially since the only two skills that qualified for its boost were ‘personal blades’ and ‘stealth.’

  Aligned Strike was the one he knew he wanted since that was a levelable attack and could be useful almost immediately. Unyielding Skill wasn’t going anywhere, so Colin chose ‘Aligned Strike.’

  A little underwhelming, but it could grow stronger.

  Colin noticed that Nox was leaning on his cane, waiting patiently, so he moved onto the last thing he had to do.

  Colin grabbed the Mythic Sword Blank from his belt and a small crystal from his bag. The Crystal of learning was about the size of a five-carat diamond and was an oval cut with seemingly unlimited facets. Inside, the gem looked almost like it twisted and turned like a kaleidoscope with the little prisms he could see within it. This small item was the reason he wanted vengeance in the first place, the reason he was killed by Manty and his group.

  Taking a deep breath, Colin placed the Crystal to the bottom of the handle where a pommel would be and only had to wait a second for the next prompt.

  He only thought about it for a moment, then he thought, yes.

  The Crystal pulled completely free from his hand and stuck to the bottom of the empty handle. A pearly light engulfed the weapon, and the sword blank burned Colin’s hand with a steam curling heat. He released the sword, and it spun around in the bottom and top axis. Another prompt appeared, this one bordered in gold.

  While a longsword had advantages, there were other weapons he preferred. His first thought was to choose another like his daggers. That idea was quickly overruled when Colin’s second thought suggested the middle ground. He thought about the types of short swords that he was aware of, which wasn’t many.

  He knew the classics. Gladius, Spatha, Wakizashi, and a couple other types from around the world. But none of them matched what he was looking for. A few moments later, an old sword type that he almost didn’t consider came through his brain.

  He put out a single word to the prompt in front of him and watched as the sword in front of him heated further. The white light surrounding the sword shortened, and an actual handle seemed to form around the weapon as it spun. Seconds passed, and the sword slowed to a stop, hovering in front of him as the bright light faded to a pale glow.

  When the newly shaped shortsword appeared in front of him, a smile crossed his face. It was double-edged, leaf-shaped, and had a blade made of dark grey steel. The guard, hilt, and pommel were all made of the crystal that the piece he sacrificed to the Mythic Sword. It was a beautiful weapon not fit for a villain, maybe a royal or the hero, but not a bad guy.

  He grabbed the handle and felt how comfortable the grip was in his hand, almost as if it were molded for him. He gave it a quick practice swing, left then right, smiling at the pleasing weight and balance.

  A new prompt appeared, this one bordered in the same gold as the last.

  “Awesome!” Colin said out loud. A living weapon that at level one made his Aligned Strike more immediately usable? Yes, please.

  A whoosh of air was the only warning Colin had as a weight settled onto his left hip. He looked and found a deep crimson scabbard with a crystal-lined rim and bottom. Yet again, the whole thing felt too artistic for him, but it was his.

  He slid the shortsword into its scabbard and looked to Nox, who was toothily smiling in a way that Colin took as feral excitement. “Nox?”

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  “I’m just thinking about you, DevilWalker,” Nox said.

  Taking a step away from the Goblin, Colin said, “I just hope it’s pleasant thoughts.”

  “Oh, I suppose they are. Do you know what you are doing after you leave here?” Nox asked, his arms spread wide to indicate the area.

  “I need ways to get stronger,” Colin said, simply. “Fighting monsters, players, increasing skills, whatever it takes. Those assholes who killed me deserve what I am going to bring down on them,” Colin said, gritting his teeth at the thought.

  Memories of past betrayals made him shake in rage. A young partner with his heart blown to pieces by a perceived friend, An old girlfriend stealing his rifle and killing his charge, his commanding officer leaving him without the promised support within the targets bunker. When he was young, trusting was one of his defining traits, and he never was proven wrong. Once he turned twenty-nine, the betrayals seemed to rain down like ammonia rain.

  At least until he met McKenna.

  “DevilWalker,” Nox said, his tone calm. “Have you considered that a guide might come in handy?”

  Colin nodded, “yeah. It’s too bad that a friendly but ruthless Goblin Alchemist is about to go his own way once we’re out of here. Too bad,” he said, shaking his head but smiling.

  His comment was definitely a farce, but the Goblin must have missed it. His eyes looked straight into Colin’s, and he spoke with certainty, “maybe he won’t. While I do have places that I want to go, my old home, for example. But it can wait, you are simply too interesting to let go. Blacken the heavens, you’ve become the most unique class I have ever seen AND made a living weapon right before my eyes. That’s not mentioning your Hubris ability.”

  “If you’ll have me, DevilWalker, I’d like to accompany you and offer my advice, knowledge, and support. The advice and knowledge are free, but the support might cost you. I won’t just grind opponents to paste for you, but I can suggest things you can do. For example, have you heard of the enhancement dungeons?” Nox asked.

  Colin shook his head.

  “They are a series of dungeons where the reward is an ability that increases the value of attributes when applied to a specific trait. Like one near Petal Groves offers an ability that increases the value of your wisdom attribute for mana regeneration,” Nox said, pointing to himself. “I got that one myself.”

  “That could come in handy,” Colin said, stroking his chin.

  “Indeed, but that’s just an example. I will say this as well, DevilWalker. I will not tell you what to do, nor will I coerce you. I want to see how you will grow and develop. That will be difficult if I am telling you what to do, agreed?” Nox said, extending a hand. “May I join you on your journey?”

  Colin’s response was almost immediate, “you are welcome to join me, Nox.”

  A vein in Colin’s forehead throbbed. These unknown factors and options were giving him a headache. This was immediately alleviated by the next prompt.

  The only thought Colin had, he voiced, “how likely are we to see a Goblin?”

  “Eventually,” Nox said, not offering any more information.

  Shrugging, Colin looked at the double circle of magic in front of him and took a single deep breath. He brought up his character screen for a full look at his traits before stepping on the portal, Nox immediately on his heels as the magic charged up. Both vanishing a moment later.

  <><><><><>

  Elsewhere in Rosengard, things stirred at the announcement of the Antagonist.

  Baal, the Steward of the Hells, looked up from his desk, and its literally endless amounts of paperwork to read a prompt that appeared. He smiled as he actually set down his pen and looked up at his predictive algorithms. There was one, separate, window set aside for the DevilWalker precisely for this moment where he accepted the role as Antagonist.

  Nothing in the prompt he was reading indeed said that it was the DevilWalker or even that it was male and not female. But there was only one person it could be. He wondered which Sin Path the DevilWalker chose but realized that it really didn’t matter much. There was much to do now that this had occurred.

  Picking back up his pen, Baal wrote out a note on an enchanted piece of vellum. After he was done, he charged it with magic and cast the spell, ‘Dispatch Message.’ The spell created a prompt for everybody under his control, which was every demon in hell, and used the written note as the message. It simply stated that no one was allowed to tell anyone who the Antagonist was if they knew.

  For the new Antagonist’s sake, he needed to remain off the radar of his fellow outworlders for as long as possible. Not to mention his own plans for the Demon Lord Candidate.

  <><><><><>

  In the depths under the Venus Seas, a scaled head three-hundred and fifty miles wide and a thousand miles long shook its head in a moment of wakefulness. Tsunami waves, water spouts, and a hurricane burst to life as the creature stirred whilst reading the prompt. The giant serpentine creature finished and lulled itself back to sleep, it would look into this… eventually. Being so massive was exhausting.

  When it woke up next, it would definitely investigate.

  <><><><><>

  In a white tower high above Kudzu Citadel City, a man paced around the room reading and rereading the prompt. A white linen kilt covered his legs, and a beautiful white open robe covered his torso, magic symbols stitched into it dominated the clean cloth. Most notable was the head of the man. A long thin neck craned down and ended in a dark bird’s head with a long pointed beak.

  The being had his hands behind his back as he considered the options. The scrying attempt that was made earlier in the cities court had failed spectacularly, and they knew nothing of who this being was. This unknown element in the world would mean that the city he helped govern could be in trouble. Especially if this Avenger was close by. There was just no way to know.

  The ibis-headed man looked around his quarters and stared at the other occupants of the room. They sat next to each other, silent and barely moving. He hoped that this news might cause the two siblings to stir, but no. Neither the falcon-headed man with a circlet crown upon his head or the crocodile-headed man blinked at the prompt that they seemed to just dismiss.

  The half-man would have liked to consult the old man and made use of his wisdom for the trying times ahead. He knew that making a decision now was imperative so that if the unknown Avenger made a mistake, they might be found quickly.

  As if on schedule, a dark-skinned man burst into the room, his breathing ragged. Every floor below this one in the tower was composed of libraries, and climbing those stairs took its toll.

  With little pity, The man with the Ibis head gave the man his order and sent him back on his way. The messenger groaned but took the order.

  It wasn’t every day that two-thousand copper coins were offered as a reward to the first person who gave information that led to the discovery of the Avenger’s identity.

  <><><><><>

  A woman with jet-black hair, clean-pale skin, and dead grey eyes held her head in agony. The transition from day to night always gave her the worst migraines and whole body pains imaginable, and she knew about pain. She resided in her deepest hall in the city of Grimhold, capital of the federation of Goblin City-States.

  Her hands shook as she read through the prompt that appeared in front of her, the left one turning reddish-black as time crept on. The human-looking woman got a second prompt that made her smile and actually tear up in response.

  Oh, Gods. This is the best news she had received in almost a millennia, and she really wanted to bring him back here now. Nox had been around before the first Demon Lord and was there when the first Goblin King took power. The Legendary Dusk Alchemyst had even assisted him, the king, in creating Grimhold, the Underground City-State, where she currently resided.

  The corruption on her skin spread farther as she gritted her teeth as she held back the gasps of pain. Her skin did not only change color, but it also scarred and withered under the tide of desiccation. As it progressed further and further, a more profound change started to take hold within the Patron of the Goblin race.

  As the minutes passed and the corruption of her body, mind, and soul finished halfway across her body. Half of the woman was still the ebon haired beauty with pale skin that had never seen daylight, the other half a shriveled corpse with the dress hanging loose from its frame.

  Sparks of flickering arctic blue and purple light danced across the cadaverous hand as a whim of will created it. With a wave of her hand, the power lept away towards the only door in the modest but well-kept room.

  Seconds passed before a young female Goblin, earnest yellow eyes gleaming with worry and love for her goddess. The Goblin’s name was Kore, she was tall for one of her kind at almost five feet tall and wearing a black lace shift over a snow-white dress that gave the teenage Goblin a regal look.

  “Kore,” the goddess said, her voice somehow raspy and silky smooth at the same time. “I require your assistance.”

  Kore fell to her knees as the goddess before her spoke. Eyes were downcast to the floor when the Goblin responded, “yes, goddess Mine?”

  “It appears that a golden age for my people has come. Somewhere in the world of light, one of our own thought long lost, has now returned. I will have him know that he is welcomed home with open arms,” the half-dead goddess told her attendant.

  “Goddess Mine, If I may be so bold. Why have you asked me to do such a task? Surely there are others more qualified for such a task. Besides, I am needed here to attend to you.” Kore said, the disappointment in her tone evident.

  “I ask you, Kore because I can trust you to finish the work asked of you. That’s not to mention that the Hero of Hallowed Shadow is less likely to slaughter you than a soldier,” she said with a smile to her attendant. “Trust me when I say that if I sent the first legion and a platoon of healers and I believe he’d still win.”

  Kore’s eyes widened, and mouth dropped, “the Hero of Hallowed Shadow? But, Goddess Mine, that’s impossible. The Hero of Hallowed Shadow died before the first Demon Lord many millennia ago. How-?”

  “A miracle,” the goddess said, not deciding to indulge her attendant further.

  <><><><><>

  In a nearby dimension, a man in sterling silver and white breastplate armor stood next to an empty throne. The ivory spear in his hand rested on the floor with the tip pointed towards the ceiling of the room he helped occupy. A hood covered most of his face with only his chin being visible to anyone looking.

  Opposite the man, a woman in similar attire stood facing him, a kite shield on her back and a bearded ax on her hip. Other than the fact that the armor she wore was fit for a woman, there was no indication that there was a difference between the two.

  “Raphael, what are we going to do about this?” the woman asked, a touch of worry in her tone.

  The speared man gripped the spear tighter as he took a moment to think. Seconds passed, and he looked at his companion, “what else can we do, Gabrielle?”

  Gauntleted fingers, flexed and relaxed as her breath quickened. “Are you sure this is a good idea? Heroes can be finicky at the best of times and defiant at worst. And if any of these Outworlders become a Hero, it could be a catastrophe.”

  “I repeat, what else can we do? We can’t just send in all our forces to Rosengard without the Hells doing the exact same to stop us. The worst part is that it wouldn’t be them or us losing. The inhabitants would all die in the scuffle.”

  Gabrielle nodded, “what can we do indeed.”

  “Any ideas who to pick?” Raphael asked, curious. A 3-D representation of Rosengard appeared between the two of them. Both took a step closer to the projection and looked at it in long moments of contemplation.

  Once she’d thought about it, Gabrielle responded, “None at all,” she said, mirth in her voice.

  “Sooooo, wait and see?”

  “Indeed.”

  <><><><><>

  A consciousness stirred within the framework of this reality. Something significant had happened in the world that it was in charge of, and it took notice. It didn’t get the prompt that sent the inhabitants of the planet into a panic. Instead, this mysterious entity got a feeling that something was tugging its mind one way, like a rope connected to an arm.

  Everything about the entity felt weird, disjointed. Oh, of course. It was observing everything at once. It took a considerable amount of power to draw the bulk of its focus to one single spot, incarnating itself above the planet of Rosengard.

  Brought together, the entity was able to collate and parse through the terabytes of information that made up the situation happening on the planet below it.

  It knew what its next step was. There was an order to what was to happen in the world of Rosengard, and the narrative could not move forward unless it acted. Everything, outside this world and inside it, depended on it, motivating the parties involved.

  It took a mere instant of will and a displacement of time to do what it needed.

  First, the entity shifted its position from floating above the planet to standing on the moon above the planet. Its location laid the cosmos bare before it, and all it could do was move on with its job.

  Next, an aurora of shifting light and color shimmered in the space a mere five feet away from it. The shimmer solidified, and a moment later, the DevilWalker appeared on the moon.

  The Outworlder turned Antagonist blinked and dropped into a crouch, hands immediately drawing his mythic shortsword and heavy dagger that were on his belt.

  “Where am I?” the mortal man demanded. “Who are you?”

  The being raised its hands, and without light or any show of power, the weapons in his hands vanished. These were followed by the weapons on his belt and the pack on his back as well.

  The being spoke as it dropped its hands, almost as if it hadn’t just totally disarmed him without trying. “You are on the moon above Rosengard, DevilWalker. As for who I am? I don’t have an official designation by anyone on Rosengard or Earth. The closest designation that would be close to what I am is most likely God. I am the One God above all others on Rosengard.”