Chorsay opened the next door. Owin would have done it himself, but while they were on the ceiling, he couldn't actually reach the door handle. He could have jumped and grabbed it or something like that. He could've done a lot of things. None of it really mattered when Chorsay was tall enough to just open the door while on the ceiling.

Shade jumped, grabbed the top of the door frame, and pulled himself up far enough to peek over. "I see wooden dolls? No. Not wood. Straw?"

Something plinked off Shade's head.

"Both," Chorsay said.

"Oh, really?" Shade lowered himself and looked at Owin. There was a hole in the center of the skeleton's forehead. "Did you know dolls can throw things?"

"What kind of things?" Owin still held the Incandescent Blade and was sure he could fight whatever odd creatures existed on the other side. The problem was just getting to that other side.

"Needles." Chorsay crouched beside the wall and folded his hands over his knee. "Jump up."

"Is it dangerous?"

Chorsay lifted an eyebrow. "You ask that about dolls? Owin, you have fought much worse."

"I don't know what a doll is."

"You will figure it out quickly." Chorsay nodded to his hands.

Owin thought about protesting or arguing, but he had no idea how else they would continue. Shade would just get more holes poked in him or killed and turned to dust, and Chorsay would move slower and risk injury if he climbed over. The best option was easily Owin jumping in and killing whatever was on the other side.

"Okay. But I don't need your help to jump through the door."

"Right." Chorsay pressed a hand against the wall and stood. "Remember that gravity will change again as you pass through the door."

"So . . . roll?"

"Roll," Chorsay said.

Owin walked across the hall, adjusted his grip on the sword, and sprinted.

His eyes widened as he landed and rolled. A quick slice batted a needle aside with the Incandescent Blade. Another plinked off his breastplate. One through the ear, another into his thigh.

Five wooden creatures about half his height stood on the other side of the hallway. They were little wobbly things with strands of straw hair, angry expressions painted on their flat features, and long, multi-jointed arms. Each one had a quiver of the metal needles tied around their torsos.

Owin turned his head aside, letting another needle scratch along the side of his helmet. As other dolls plucked more needles from their quivers, Owin pushed off his uninjured leg and reappeared right before the creatures. He swore he heard something akin to a gasp as he ignited the sword, landed firmly on his leg, and chopped horizontally with every ounce of strength he could muster.

0 Experience

0 Experience

0 Experience

0 Experience

0 Experience

The taste of a health potion was always sweeter than he expected. Sweeter than he remembered. There had been too many times where it was just splashed into his face, and compared to many other things he had consumed, the health potions tasted good.

"Kindling," Shade said.

"What?" Owin turned to see Shade and Chorsay standing just a few feet behind.

"I said you made them kindling." Shade narrowed his eye sockets and crouched to Owin's height. "Are you conscious? Are you unhurt?"

"I'm fine." Owin slapped Shade's hand away before the skeleton could poke him. "Distracted, I guess."

"Do you need a break?" Chorsay asked.

"No. I want to go find the witch." Owin ended the flow of mana into the Incandescent Blade. The flames flicked off immediately.

"Feed me," Torban said.

"Oh." Owin looked about, picked up a burning piece of doll, and tried to force it into the bag.

"Sword, moron."

Owin frowned.

Shade cocked his head.

Chorsay scratched his face.

"Sword," Torban said again.

"Okay . . ." Owin let the word hang as he slowly put the Incandescent Blade through the open mouth of the specter.

"Mmmm."

Owin pulled the bag off his shoulder and held it out to Shade.

The skeleton stuck his hands high into the air. "Oh, no. You're not tricking me. It'll somehow be blamed as my fault when you die because you're without your weapons or something ridiculous like that. I know your tricks. You keep that thing on you at all times."

"Wear me," Torban said.

Owin couldn't keep the scowl off his face as he fit the pitch black bag back on his shoulder. Its weight was familiar and comforting, but imagining the voice coming from it immediately made him uncomfortable once again.

Shade kicked aside the burning dolls and opened the door to the room beyond. A staircase as bent and rickety as the tower itself wound up the wall, heading to a floor high above. Compared to the altered gravity of the halls, the tower looked mostly normal.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"What's in here?" Shade turned to another door, but was stopped by Chorsay's firm hand.

"I don't want to wait around for two minutes."

Shade's eye sockets widened. "Death," he whispered.

"For you, yes."

Owin took a step closer to the closed door. "Now I'm curious."

Chorsay rubbed at his eyes. After a moment, he shrugged helplessly. "I shouldn't have said a word." With obvious hesitation, he gestured to it.

Owin opened the door and found more hallway. "Is it just more traps and stuff?"

"And a boss at the end," Chorsay said. He pulled a container of nuts from his bag and started snacking. The big man really never stopped being hungry.

"What's up there?"

"A boss."

Owin scratched at his ear where the hole had been. He apparently had healed it fast enough to not leave a permanent hole through the center of his ear. Or it was just a small enough hole not to have done permanent damage. After thinking about it for a moment, Owin waved Shade over and poked him in the center of the forehead.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" Shade rapt his knuckles against his own skull. "Nope. Still vacant."

"You don't have a hole anymore."

The skeleton's eye sockets widened considerably. He immediately reached behind. "My rectum!"

Chorsay chuckled.

"The needle hole," Owin said, poking the spot once again. "Are you healing and we didn't realize it?"

Shade felt the spot and stopped acting so dramatically. "Maybe I've had this since the last bone? Do I just explode too often?"

"You might explode too often," Owin said.

"Hm. I don't think my memory is any better. My bones look the same." He ran skeletal fingers over his skull. It scraped in a horrible pitch. "We need to run experiments!"

"Why don't we do that when we're not in the dungeon? Chorsay is right. Standing around for two minutes is annoying." Owin closed the door to the other hall. "What's the boss over there?"

Chorsay finished chewing a mouthful of nuts and put the empty container back in his bag. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and took a quick swig of water. "A telekinetic magus."

"The warlock," Shade said. "See? I knew it. Genius, I am. Regular old genius."

"And the witch is up above."

Chorsay nodded.

"Do I need to kill the magus to help the lehboa?" Owin asked.

"Actually, you do."

Owin pointed up. "Follow me. I have an idea."

"Oh, this is bad. His ideas are usually bad. Pretty bad. Horrible even, if you ask me."

Owin had already started up the rickety stairs. "Nobody did ask you, Shade."

"I did," Torban said.

Owin groaned.

***

Kuri had pulled every thread she could find.

Every favor, every coin, every single fucking thing she had.

Gone.

Just to stand at the edge of Stobrukha.

Wanted posters sponsored by the Three Headed Hero Company and the Harmony Unit were plastered around every inch of Dolym. It would be impossible to stroll through the capital city without being bombarded with images of Vondaire, Chorsay Eoghet, or some rat lady.

Vondaire had really worked himself into a stupid position. Not only did he pass through Dolym and certainly piss off Nastya Sidorov and Olena Vasiliev, he entered the Sky with enough people aware of it that she was able to track him down.

"How long are we waiting?" Zetyrth asked.

The berserker had been uncharacteristically patient. She was often quiet, but to actually sit still and not fidget or pace or do anything else that might make Kuri tear her hair from her head was . . . good. Surprisingly good. Maybe great.

If anything was great, it was that.

Nothing was great, though. She was now also wanted and broke and hopeless. What was she going to do? What was she hoping for? Why had Zetyrth even followed her to the opposite end of Verdantallis?

Kuri grabbed the brim of her hat and pulled it down. Her fingers wrinkled the fabric, barely containing the anxiety-fueled rage rushing through her veins.

The Sky Dungeon was no more than an hour away for the average hero, which meant it was moments away for a multishard hero. If Vondaire was alive—

She opened her index and confirmed he was alive, he was on the list.

Her breath caught.

A 3 Shard Hero?

Right before her eyes, Vondaire's name moved from 2 Shards to 3 Shards.

Energy thrummed in the distance not a moment later.

"He's there," she said.

"Is he?" Zetyrth shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted into the distance. "Where?"

"Here," Vondaire said, already standing beside Kuri. All three shards stilled and dropped into his shoulder.

Kuri pulled her hat off. Her hair was somewhere between silver and purple, shifting shades in the sun's light. She held a breath and cradled the hat to her chest. "You . . ."

Vondaire scratched his break. "I'm aware. I'm getting used to it myself."

"Is that the Phoenix?" Zetyrth said in a cautious, terror-edged voice. She sounded more scared asking Vondaire a question than she had during their battles in Izylia.

"It was." Vondaire tilted his head slightly. "It still is. That voice will fade over time."

"We didn't hear a voice," Zetyrth said.

"I'm aware." Vondaire scratched at his beak once again. "I see you two are getting along swimmingly. Why the distress?" He took Kuri's hand. Despite the horror of his bird face, his hands were as soft and gentle as ever. "What happened?"

"We killed Rullunth." She squeezed his hand. "We fought our way out of Izylia."

Vondaire ran a thumb over the back of her hand. "You have taken another step up in my eyes," he said to Zetyrth.

The berserker nodded.

"There was a time, a long time, where I thought you would be under Taralim's fist forever. I had given up hope. And yet, here you are, competing with me for the biggest bounty."

"I think you're still winning," Zetyrth said.

Kuri really squeezed Vondaire's hands. Her strength, as decent as it was, would never harm a 3 Shard hero. "We saw your wanted posters."

"They'll hardly recognize me."

"You're more recognizable now." Kuri broke free and ran a hand across his beak. "I don't know if I can get used to this."

Zetyrth grunted.

Vondaire took a step back. "Understood, ma'am. Physical contact in a way that has no murderous intent—" He cut himself off and seemed to consider Kuri for a moment. "That has little murderous intent, should be left for a private moment. For now, we leave it murderous and all that. You both have shards. You will be expected to defend yourself as far as possible if the Three Heads or Unity Force are waiting. You are also more than free to not draw attention and to slip past."

"What if Nastya or Olena are here?" Kuri asked.

"Then I will cut off another head. Damn beak. I intended to smirk. A sly smile. The kind that lets you know I am confident." He gestured to his face with a gloved hand. "Can you tell?"

Kuri pulled her hat back on. "No."

"Shame. I will need to make more cocky comments in tense situations instead." He flicked his fingers and formed a kunai made of spectral fire. "I'm going to turn into that damn skeleton if I don't watch myself."

Kuri's questions continued to rise, but it wasn't the right time to ask. So many things had changed in Vondaire. That cockiness was no longer so self-centered. It wasn't simply arrogance. He was one of the best, and he . . . he cared.

"Where are we going?" Zetyrth asked.

"Brukiya. Vraxridge, specifically."

"Althowin Alegarra's city?" The berserker unhooked her hammers. "Is that wise?"

"Ask her yourself. She's waiting for me."

Kuri felt a knot in her stomach. "She's the one you—"

"Oh, no," Vondaire said quickly. "I prefer you don't put me on a spit for Althowin to roast. No, she is like a mentor of sorts. Or my mentor's mentor. The family tree has grown complicated. There's a goblin and skeleton in there. I have joined her team, and now you will as well."

Kuri pulled the brim of her hat up. "She won't—"

"She will love you." Vondaire took her hand. "Now, take your staff off your back and prepare to smash in some Heads."

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.