Last Command of the Witheld Arc 1: Rebirth

Xander Vasilias, ☆☆Graviton Knight, Stone Lvl 14

“Water Temple” dungeon, Falstaff Forest, Province of Aragonia

Xander Vasilias

Race

Human

Rank/Level

☆☆ Stone Rank Gravity Knight Level 14

House

House Vasilias

Racial Gifts

[Enhanced] System Access, [Great] House Seal, [Un]Limited Inventory, Incredibly Strong, Enhance Damage

Attributes

Dominion

30 [Gravity] / 30 ☆

Speed

19 [Hammer] / 30

Precision

25 [Strength] / 30

Growth

22 [Adventure] / 30

Arcana

30 [Black Hole] / 30 ☆

Tensa Pool

791 ks

Gear

Vasilias Heavy Armor, Singularity Hammer, House Vasilias Seal, Infused Polyalloy Shield, Jump Jets, Legendary BOTI Bag

Core Grafts

Increase Mass [Gravity], Meteor Blow [Hammer], Crushing Blow [Strength], Call Weapon [Adventure], GravQuake [Black Hole]

Class Powers

Attack

Final Collapse [Black Hole]

Whirling Strike [Hammer]

Defense

Bulwark [Adventure]

Utility

Devour Light [Black Hole]

Gravitic Sight [Gravity]

Decrease Mass [Gravity]

Movement

Summon Steed [Adventure]

Slingshot Maneuver [Gravity]

Support

Lend Strength [Strength]

A torrent of water rained down on Xander and the rest of the team as they picked their way carefully down the Borehole. The walls of the Borehole bristled with layer upon layer of ancient, compressed buildings and stretched for kilometers underground. Poking out of the buildings like clusters of quills were scores of broken and leaking pipes. Water of all temperatures and consistencies leaked from most of the pipes, sluicing down into the endless depths of the Borehole. Xander wiped the incessant water streaming down his face out of his eyes, blinking as he surveyed the path ahead.

It was nearly impossible to get a clear view of anything due to the pouring water, but Xander was patient. The borehole continued down another twenty kilometers, but the Dungeon everyone called the Water Temple (its proper name was the Temple to the Hundred Thousand Nyyaidiin of the Rivers of the Valley, but it was obvious why no one called it that) had its entrance exactly 8.34 kilometers down and it was easy to miss. There were specific landmarks that marked how far they’d come and he was looking for…there it was glinting amidst the shadows: a pipe made out of pure gold, encrusted with dead barnacles. That meant they were exactly 8 kilometers down.

They had to be careful this deep. They were moving through kilometers of crushed buildings, all stacked on top of each other. Xander couldn’t remember the name of the city it had once been, but they had favored enormous vertical structures that had compressed into a kilometers-thick plate only a kilometer below the surface during the Thirty-Eighth Cataclysm. The only monsters to survive in this depth were the terrifying Junkworms, and they were easily Class 3 monsters—enough to give even a team of Sapphire-rank Reborn a fight they’d remember. If they wanted to live, they had to keep their animas withdrawn and move as quickly as they could.

Xander recalled that House Vasilias had once tried to build elevating platforms when they had first captured the Dungeon, nine hundred eighty years ago at the tail end of the Conquest of Falstaff Forest. Their platforms had been meticulously designed by the best arcane engineers in the province and powered by nearly silent enchantments. The effort was deemed worthwhile since the Borehole was the only way to get to the Water Temple and an Imperial House’s livelihood was driven by their access to the wealth of Dungeons.

The plan had worked for a whole two months before Junkworms, apparently driven mad by the etheric harmonics of the levitation enchantments, attacked the platforms and wiped out nearly half of House Vasilias’ Stone and Ivory rank Reborn in fifteen minutes. Ever since then, the Borehole remained devoid of artifice and the approach to the Water Temple had become something of a rite of passage.

The last time he’d made this trip was three years ago. He’d gone with his brother and Salyyb, of course. Culvis was just getting his Class but he’d been there too. They’d defeated the Boss monster and Xander had won his first Rare ethershard from an actual, non-simulated Boss monster. Salyyb was with him now of course, but Ravi was way up north in the Cataclysm Mountains doing some secret mission for the House.

Xander looked up, checking on the rest of his team. They were all strung along behind and above him, each making their way down among the jagged pipes lining the pit. Culvis was the slowest, his wide frame a little awkward maneuvering down the pit. Jessaline simply strolled down the pipes, as comfortable on them as she was walking on a flat road. Salyyb used his plants, of course, allowing ropelike vines to carry him at a steady pace directly down. And Zahara…She was the most graceful of them all. She flowed from spot to spot, a tensa-infused song on her lips that made the climb easier for everyone. Xander had taken point since his newly upgraded [Great] House Seal would be required to make the House Vasilias entrance guardians and auto turrets stand down.

The Water Temple was not a Dungeon that was open to Independent Reborn and House Vasilias—like every other House—guarded their Dungeons with deadly force that made the monsters within them laughably weak in comparison. Jessaline made her way over to him and he could tell by the way she moved that she was angry, even though her face didn’t show it. He sighed. He’d been dealing with this kind of attitude ever since he’d informed them Zahara would accompany them on their mission.

Salyyb had threatened to bring the matter up with his mother. He claimed that the honor of his House was at stake and that he’d rather die than let a damned Bardoul on a Vasilias team. Like it was his decision. Xander had managed to talk the stuffy ginpaari off the brink, but ever since then, all their conversations had been scented with a distinctly unpleasant smell vaguely reminiscent of rotting onions—ginpaari could be extremely expressive regarding their emotional state, especially with a chemistry lab full of pheromones they could release at will. Xander wondered what Jessaline’s angle would be this time.

She didn’t deign to open her mouth and have a conversation with him. The torrent of water leaking from all the broken pipes above them would have made that difficult. Instead, Jessaline’s psychic presence was suddenly there in his mind. He could feel her annoyance, distrust, and tightly controlled fear emanating from her, just as much as she could feel his exasperation, defensiveness, and anger. Her expression didn’t change as she paused next to him, brushing dirty brown water out of her eyes and glaring at him.

Xander why are we here? Neither of the Scions are going to be in the Water Temple and you know it. Her eyes flicked momentarily over to Zahara, who had continued down ahead of them without looking at them. Is it because of her?

Xander rolled his eyes. Of course, it’s because of her, he thought back at her. Her eyes widened a little in surprise at the admission and he continued, Let me clarify. It’s because of my team’s reaction to her. We need to know we can trust each other.

He hopped from his current perch down to a wide pipe ten meters below made of broken ceramic that had a steady stream of boiling-hot water leaking from a gaping crack in the side of it. Jessaline followed effortlessly. A Dungeon is the perfect way to build the kind of trust I know we’ll need, he thought at her. Then, because he couldn’t resist—not when Jessaline had been so beastly about this whole thing—he added, Plus I know you haven’t filled your monthly quota yet. You still need to pull twenty Common or better shards to remain in good standing with the House. I assumed you’d jump at this chance to get that done.

That last thought had the intended effect. Jessaline stopped and frowned. The Third Eye in the middle of her forehead had narrowed and seemed to have taken over glaring at him as Jessaline seemed to grow a little introspective. Finally, he heard her voice echoing in his head. Fine, we’re going to the Water Dungeon to build team cohesion or whatever. But I’m still watching her, Xander. A House like Bardoul…you can’t just leave it, especially not if you’re a Scion.

Xander didn’t respond. He decided that he would take the win gracefully. He had to concede that she had a point, even if only privately. He desperately wanted to believe that Zahara had truly cut all ties. Their relationship had grown slowly and organically and Xander had never felt any falsehood from her. He’d seen her talk about her childhood—if you could call it that—before; that kind of hate and resentment couldn’t be faked.

It took another half hour for them to descend far enough to arrive at the entrance to the Water Temple. He almost missed it, of course. The Junkworms had plastered over the break in the side of the Borehole with a disgusting mixture of organic slime and chewed-up bits of building material. Clever and difficult to spot, but the smell had given it away: it reeked of ammonia. There was a sudden break in the pipes and compressed building material detritus that made up the walls of the pit leading to a small landing made of compressed junk. The team all gathered on the landing, Culvis taking up the rear.

Jessaline Braedes had separated somewhat from the rest of the group with her eyes closed as her Third Eye twitched and stared out into the middle distance. Xander gathered the others with a glance, letting Jessaline alone for now. She was using one of the grafts that allowed her to perceive remote areas, though she had to focus for it to be effective. Xander looked over the rest of the team, checking them over to make sure they were all okay before they entered the Dungeon.

Culvis made his rounds, using his Analyze graft on each of them to ensure they hadn’t picked up any parasites from the water that leaked from all the broken pipes along the Borehole. His huge bushy mustache was still dripping with water, but he didn’t seem to notice as he concentrated on his graft. After scanning Xander, he grimaced at the results and concentrated for a moment, holding out his hand, palm up. Hair-thin beams of light appeared from his fingertips, converging on a point five or six centimeters above his palm. They shifted minutely and a few seconds later, a little white pill popped into existence on Culvis’ outstretched palm.

He handed Xander the pill and said, “Better take that one now, my Lord. You picked up somethin’ nasty and you don’t want to let this one sit. Trust me.”

Xander didn’t need any further encouragement. He gulped the pill down dry and looked over at Zahara and Salyyb. Zahara was immaculately dressed in a flowy blouse and pants outfit in shades of muted blues and coral, her beautiful nine-string djevek slung in a traveling case on her back. Salyyb the ginpaari Botanimeister towered over everyone, three meters tall and thin as a rail, clutching his intricately-carved and heavily-infused and enchanted Elemental Staff. His headflower was twisted tightly against the constant downpour of water and he exuded pheromones of discomfort and irritation in wafts of rotten vegetation and freshly chopped onion.

“My bees are near hibernation due to the cold and the damp, Lord Xander,” Salyyb said. “Have I reminded you lately how much I despise the Temple to the Hundred Thousand Nyyaidiin of the Rivers of the Valley? There is no sunlight here and the water has equal parts corrupted water tensa, parasites that want to devour your roots, and foul heavy metals that leave disgusting deposits in all your most important organs.”

“Everyone hates the Water Temple, Salyyb,” Xander said. Culvis was scanning the ginpaari now with his Analyze graft. “But it’s one of the House’s most profitable Dungeons. We’ll fill our quotas, earn some credits and reputation for the House, and have an excellent opportunity for building our team trust and cohesion in the shared danger of battling monsters slightly above our rank.”

Zahara chimed in, “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything in there hurt you. This will be fun! Easy!”

Xander could feel the tensa that Zahara pushed into the words, but didn’t remark upon it. As a Bard Class, Zahara had powerful supportive powers that she could activate to give their group incredible boons of courage, strength, and resilience at the most crucial times. He only hoped Jessaline wouldn’t react poorly. As a natural psychic, the woman was particularly sensitive to powers that acted on the mind. Jessaline didn’t say anything—for once—and Xander began to believe that things might be going according to plan for once.

Jessaline joined the group a moment later and reported, “The corridor beyond is clear. Doesn’t look like anything broke through the Gate and the integration wizard’s station is manned.” She glanced over at Zahara and said, “It looks pretty calm to me. We should get the most recent monster reports from the Ranger on duty. I recognize him—a Vessel I trained under when I was a kid.”

Xander’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Vessels weren’t exactly common in the Empire—or anywhere really. To find one here and serving as a Ranger in House Vasilias’ employ was a notable rarity.

“Then it’s our good fortune!” He said heartily. “We’ll get to the Boss in no time and reap a heavy harvest of ethershards for our efforts. Culvis? Have you checked on everyone yet?”

Culvis held up one finger, “A moment, my Lord. Salyyb just needs a bit of tending to.” He slotted the bulb he’d synthesized into a pocket Emitter and fiddled with the controls. “Close yer eyespots, Salyyb, you don’t wanna see this wavelength for too long but the creepy crawlies that laid eggs in the cracks of yer bark explode when exposed to it.”

Salyyb exuded another strong waft of rotten onions, then his eyespots contracted down to mere pinpricks. Culvis flicked on the Emitter and a greenish-orange light infused with tensa illuminated Salyyb. The healer shone the light all over Salyyb, making sure he didn’t miss anywhere. After a few minutes, he turned the Emitter off and popped the smoking bulb out, then replaced the device on his belt.

“Alright, Salyyb, yer good to go for now. Let me know if you see any red hairs growing on any of your leaves. If you see ‘em, I’ve got a cuticle cream that’ll take care of ‘em but keep an eyespot on it, okay?”

“As you say, Culvis.” Salyyb curled his vinelike arms once or twice and exuded a complex perfume of baking bread and honey. “Have I expressed how agreeable it is to have a True Healer’s services to rely upon? It is truly satisfactory to have competent medical care for a ginpaari on a human-run team. No offense, my Lord, of course.”

Xander wondered what he was meant not to take offense at and shrugged inwardly. Salyyb and his entire seedpod had served House Vasilias for over four hundred years with unswerving loyalty. The Botanimeister had held off on his Ivory Gate Quest so that he could take it with Xander. You couldn’t buy loyalty like that, Xander knew.

Culvis just waved off the compliment. He was truly humble, despite being the only True Healer in the entire Empire in the last two hundred years. He could have joined any team in the whole Empire—even the legendary Nightshade Garden team run by the Emperor’s eldest son—but he joined Xander’s.

Xander gathered everyone with his gaze and nodded. “I think we can all get behind that sentiment, Salyyb. With our fearless True Healer’s blessing, let’s continue on! There are Bosses to slay and treasure to loot!” He strode into the opening at the other end of the little landing where Jessaline had pointed before and the others followed closely behind.