The Dragonborn Overlord of the New World

by nolalothcaragascint1

[Overlord AU/Canon Divergence. No Ainz or Nazarick] [Slow burn] Guild Master Tiberius of the Sanguine Dragons has spent the last 12 years adventuring throughout the nine worlds of YGGDRASIL. But now the game servers are shutting down. What happens when he inadvertently remains behind during the shut down? How will Tiberius react when finds himself in a New World?

9. Chapter VI

Chapter VI

Plans and Visitations

Within the confines of the Council Chamber, the dragonoid sat upon his gilded chair at the head of the long table. The room exuded an eerie quietness, almost unsettling in its stillness. The absence of sound evoked the classic saying of hearing a proverbial pin drop – a notion that Tiberius would not find too far-fetched in the surrounding silence.

Disquieted by this he shifted on the tall-backed chair. Adjusting his position, the dragonoid listened as the soft creak of the wood beneath him was made far louder by the resulting echoes.

Pausing for a moment, he leaned forward, creating enough space to maneuver his bulky tail. With practiced ease, Tiberius shifted the appendage from one side of the chair to the other, draping it over the armrest while allowing the majority of it to rest on the floor, a routine he had grown accustomed to. Although the discomfort he experienced could be compared to a mild inconvenience, it was sufficient to trigger thoughts of boring a hole through the back of the chair to accommodate his tail.

Despite knowing that doing so would greatly improve his posture, allowing him to sit upright instead of adopting a partial slouch, Tiberius firmly decided against it. He couldn't bear the thought of ruining the chair, an item that held cherished memories for him.

Yet, it was at moments like this that he couldn't help but be reminded of the fact that he was no longer human.

This topic of his existence was something that Tiberius had found himself pondering on occasion.

It wasn't long after his return from the human village known as Carne that Tiberius mused on the subject of his wings. While they were a part of his body and thus an iconic look as an evolved dragonoid. However, they were not necessarily of any use to him within his mountain home. So it was that he had chosen not to manifest them on his person.

He felt of a similar persuasion when it came to the matter of his attire.

In the virtual realm of YGGDRASIL, a player's choice of attire, though diverse, held little significance. With enough investment, virtually any piece of gear could be transformed into one of higher quality. As a result, it primarily boiled down to a matter of personal aesthetics. After all, they were merely cosmetic enhancements for a simulated avatar.

Yet, in this world where reality merged with fantasy, the choices held real consequences. Therefore, Tiberius considered the idea of wearing a full suit of armour as his everyday attire to be rather unnecessary. Within the secure confines of the mountain, what threat could possibly harm him? Consequently, the dragonoid chose to forgo the armour and instead adorned a new ensemble – one that prioritized comfort over protection.

In this manner, Tiberius retained the dark-coloured heavy cloth trousers he had worn beneath the armour. For his upper body, the dragonoid opted for a comfortable and loosely fitted tunic, the colour of red wine. Over the rich burgundy cloth, he donned a sleeveless robe in a deep ocean blue hue. The robe was adorned with a flame pattern in green thread along the edges and secured firmly by a red sash.

Again, the dragonoid shifted, adjusting his position.

Leaning to the side, he rested his elbow on the armrest before lifting his forearm and resting his draconian head atop a closed fist. On the floor, the bullwhip-like tip of his tail would intermittently flick to and fro. While his flame-coloured eyes lazily drifted about the room.

His gaze traced across the Council Chamber's grandstands.

Multiple times, he would pause and linger at specific spots, as if attempting to recollect which of his numerous guildmates, his friends, might have occupied those locations in the past before moving on. His gaze then shifted upwards towards the high vaulted ceiling adorned with ornate paper lanterns, gracefully dancing amidst the granite backdrop. After a while, he spent a lengthy period simply staring at the white oak doors on the far side of the room.

Overall, Tiberius directed his focus anywhere but on the various papers that lay scattered about the table before him.

These stacks were but the latest offering from Yuliana's continued work on Týrnaust's inventory.

In the interim since the excursion from Týrnaust, boredom had begun to set in for the dragonoid. As he reflected on the events of that day, it seemed so oddly long ago and not the near week and a half that had come to pass.

o – o – o – o

Tiberius' and Yuliana's return to the mountain had been met by a small welcoming band gathered upon the great balcony.

Off to the side the Chief Attendant, Mathias, stood tall with the smaller Kip at his side. The kobold fidgeted with his hands as per usual while his tail lashed about in excitement like a puppy. While close by the Valkyries had assembled to serve as an unofficial cheer squad, their faces showcasing their relief and joy at the return of their superiors.

Some within the group were more openly expressive than others.

A prime example of this was the Birdfolk female, Gairwyn. She seemed the most enthusiastic with her hasty movements. It reminded Tiberius of those small birds he'd seen fluttering about in Superwurm's flower garden on the Pinnacle Plaza. Hummingbirds she had told him they were called, although he never knew why. While her face shone with her outpour of emotion, enhanced by her colourful plumage.

Compared to the largest of the troop, the near seven-foot-tall Draegloth, Shar're. She stood at the back of the assemblage, her four arms folded across her broad torso as she seemingly did her best to remain impassive. However, even as stoic as she was, Shar're could not hide the subdued smile that graced her canine-like muzzle.

As for the rest of the girls in the warrior unit, their attitudes fell somewhere in between those two examples.

Away from the others stood the two most composed members of the crowd, Floor Guardians Koraboros, and Aeon. The Demon Lord was still dressed in the armour he'd worn when he had been summoned to the battlefield.

When the Master of the Mountain and the Guardian Overseer approached, all bowed in their show of respect for the pair.

"Welcome back, my lord."

Koraboros' accented tones mingled with the deeper more resonating vocals of the Seraphim Guardian.

"Thank you," Tiberius bowed his head in gratitude, "All of you. It is good to be back."

The already present smiles on the faces of those gathered seemed to grow even wider at the dragonoid words.

Shifting his focus, Tiberius turned to the demonic Floor Guardian.

"Koraboros, I trust the human prisoners gave you no trouble."

"No, my lord, they did not," the Demon Lord gave a toothy smile and good-natured chuckle at his master's perceived joke. "On that note, Naagoth was most eager to greet his guests and is looking forward to undertaking their interrogation."

Tiberius nodded before turning to the armoured figure of the seraphim.

"Aeon, I apologize for making you wait and hold such readiness when your aid was not needed. But it seems I may have greatly overestimated the capabilities of this world's inhabitants."

"There is no need to say such things, my lord," Aeon responded with a bow of his head. "I am at your service, and as such, if it would ensure your safe return. Then I would contentedly stand vigil for a thousand years."

The dragonoid couldn't help but smile in appreciation for the Floor Guardian's sentiments.

"M-Master," Kip addressed his master, hesitantly stepping forward, "Can I ask what happened out there?"

The kobold's enthusiasm to learn the details of the pair's adventure from the mountain.

"Oh yes," Ryoko of the Valkyries called out, "Please tell us, Master."

The other members of the squad followed suit, eagerly moving closer. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, the unit of warrior women underwent a swift transformation, resembling a group of giddy schoolgirls. Their interests were piqued, and their eyes widened in anticipation as they stood ready to listen to the latest gossip.

"Well," Tiberius started, "While I would enjoy entertaining you with the details, I have grown fatigued and shall leave that task to Yuliana, if she's up for it."

The Guardian Overseer stepped forward, a broad smile playing on her face.

"Certainly, Lord Tiberius. I wouldn't mind sharing the tale."

The dragonoid nodded, "Then if you will excuse me."

As Tiberius turned away, he couldn't help but notice the looks of disappointment on the faces of the NPCs. The reptilian bard displayed sad-puppy eyes, and the gang of female warriors wore crestfallen expressions. Despite their letdown, they understood their master's wishes and respectfully bowed as he departed.

Only a few steps away, Tiberius could already hear Yuliana starting to speak. Judging by the good-humoured tones in her voice, her interpretation of the day's events promised to be invigorating.

In a repeat of his first night's journey through the mountain, Tiberius made his way across the Ninth Floor and to the comforts of his private residence therein.

Reaching the Norman Keep, he opened the door and was greeted by the familiar sight of the building's interior. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than he let his human façade fade away. Responding to his desires, the magical transformation activated, returning him to his true form. Standing by the door, he began the deliberate process of removing the armour that encased his body. Without a second thought, each piece of the suit was discarded haphazardly, creating a clattering pile of metal on the floor as one piece after another dropped upon the others.

When he was rid of the final segment, Tiberius began to make his way across the room. It felt so good to be back in his proud draconic form.

After spending his days adapting to his current predicament, and to again retake a human form, Tiberius had found the feeling to be not what he expected. The best way he had to describe it was confining. But settling in over that, the feeling of hiding behind a mask had returned and by the end of the day had been almost stifling.

Perhaps that would change.

Maybe in time, as he got used to it the feeling would diminish as the uncomfortable feeling of breaking in a new suit fades.

Reaching the side of the oversized sofa, he collapsed onto the cushion, and then with a heavy sigh, he stretched out and relaxed. Sinking into the plush softness the dragonoid took a moment to enjoy the peace in the wake of such a hectic day.

"Geez, what a day. I only meant to meet with the locals and get some info about these lands. But instead, we took out a bunch of marauders and alerted another group to our existence."

He grumbled before tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling and groaned, a sound that came out more like a harsh growl.

"Oh, and let's not forget the trio of prisoners we have locked up in the dungeon. Damn it! Things just became so much more complicated."

Retreating from the world around him, he delved deep into his thoughts, reliving the sights and sounds of the village in his mind. These memories quickly shifted to the attack that had ensued after his visit. Vivid images of the carnage he had witnessed, whether inflicted by the invaders or by his own hand, played before his eyes in intricate detail.

Even now as he recollected the bandits that he'd struck down, he felt no sympathy. The dragonoid felt only the same anger that he'd harboured then.

Not wishing to drown in those feelings again, Tiberius deliberately loosened his grip on those memories, allowing them to fade into the background. Shifting on the couch, he slumped over onto the stuffed cushion, stretching his body in an attempt to release the accumulated stress of the day.

Nearby the magically fueled fire crackled within its humble hearth, radiating its heat outward to fill the room. The warmth was a welcome sensation to the lounging dragonoid. While he had wondered about its operation previously. At the moment he couldn't care for how it functioned, only that it did as he basked in its glow.

So it was with this combination of comfort and exhaustion that he was lulled into a pleasant slumber.

o – o – o – o

Pulling back to the present, he roused himself from his reminiscing, Tiberius turned his focus back to the papers that lay scattered on the table before him.

The day that had followed their return had been a busy one.

Yuliana had surprised him by scheduling another meeting that morning, the attendees were those that had been present for the original. However, this summit had carried on far longer than the previous and mainly consisted of covering the events of the visit to the village.

Details were discussed ad nauseam and it was only after Tiberius had done his best to subtly steer the conversation that a new topic became the focus. Subsequent to this came the reports and discussions of current endeavours.

It had been a simple matter. Or at least had been until Yuliana had spoken up, questioning what his plans were for the human village.

Unfortunately, the dragonoid's only response to the inquiry was silence. The future of the village was not a matter to which he had devoted any thought. But not wishing to seem like a fool without a plan, he did his best to bluff. Merely alluding to having an idea in mind before swiftly changing the topic of conversation. Thankfully, it had worked and the NPCs had accepted his deception.

However, this had only left him where he had started – with the lingering issue of what to do about Carne Village unresolved.

Because of this Tiberius had been spending what time he could ruminating on the matter. Well, that is whenever he wasn't buried snout-deep in some bit of paperwork.

The sheer number of reports had taken the dragonoid by a bit of surprise. As he sorted through the various papers, it seemed as if every NPC in Týrnaust was now submitting a report on something.

Tiberius was thankful that Yuliana had taken the time to sort the papers into binders of varying colours to denote their origins. It made it much easier for him to decide on their priority.

Those reports that originated from the Floor Guardians and their subordinates, the Area Guardians, were bound in red folders. Much of their content consisted of simple status updates and their readiness to serve. Those in green folders had been filed by the nymph Caretakers of the Ninth Floor. Their reports were long, seemingly filled with the by-the-moment accounting of cleaning routines. With them, there were also blue for maintenance reports, yellow for reconnaissance, and several other colours for different subjects.

The bulk of this material was filled with rather mundane stuff which therefore luckily made for quick reads. But still, all were equally boring.

No doubt the mountain's inhabitants had expected their master to read through them all. Unfortunately, he in fact mostly skimmed through the majority. It wasn't thorough but it was enough to get the gist of what they had to say.

Yet if something did catch his attention, he certainly would read it. Particularly those of the yellow folders, usually authored by either Koraboros or Nido.

These papers tended to detail the activities of the scouting parties that had been sent to scour the surrounding areas. As such it was primarily those reports that attracted his interest.

He'd read through several reports about the creatures that had been discovered to be indigenous to these lands. It was these types of things that intrigued him. Having witnessed the existence of YGGDRASIL's monsters in this world, the dragonoid had been left curious if perhaps other YGGDRASIL monsters had been carried over. And given its reputation, this Forest of Tob would seemingly be a fine place to find them.

Beyond that, it was the thought of real animals living naturally just a stone's throw away.

It was an almost surreal proposition to someone from a world that had become an ecumenopolis. There were no wilds left in the world unless you counted the urban jungles. Here the only animals you would find there were primarily of the human, rodent, and insect varieties. Rarely one might see a cloned animal, something along the lines of a dog or a cat, which was owned by the more affluent citizens. Any real animals that continued to persist in this inhospitable world had been ferreted away in the private menageries of the ultra-wealthy.

Other than these files about the local wildlife Tiberius also paid close attention to Nido's other reports. Not just those referring to Carne Village but also the newer papers on his study of the far larger fortress city known as E-Rantel.

However, the folders that made up the bulk of the stacks were those bound in purple. These belonged to the ongoing audit being conducted by the Guardian Overseer, they were by far the most extensive and exhaustive to read through.

Contained within the numerous tomes were well-defined sections for every category of item that Yuliana had listed. Each page was inscribed with an itemized listing with the name, the amount collected, and even its location within the mountain. Surprisingly, she had gone so far as to assess the personal holdings of her fellow Floor Guardians, the Area Guardians, the Valkyries, and seemingly just about every other NPC within Týrnaust.

Altogether it made for a veritable mountain of paperwork.

Going through it, Tiberius had joked about making use of it for some late-night reading should he have trouble sleeping. Still, it impressed him just how diligent Yuliana was with her given task.

Tiberius was perhaps grateful to be so distracted by the subject of Carne Village. If for nothing else but for the diversion from the dreary paperwork it allotted him.

Yet, just what should be done about them?

For perhaps the thousandth time, his thoughts turned back to the matter. However, this time he could not help but feel some irritation. His mind continued to cast a wide net only to pull it back empty. Unable to draw forth even the simplest of answers was starting to get under his scales – so to speak. Moreso, when the memory of the promise he had made to the village girl – Enri.

Damn it! Why did I do that? I mean getting rid of those bandits was a nonissue, it was just the right thing to do and all. But why did I have to go and promise to further help them? Tiberius released a pent-up sigh of frustration before pulling himself up higher in the tall chair. I guess I just can't resist a damsel in distress. I mean she certainly seemed nice enough.

His flame-coloured eyes left the ceiling and the colourful lanterns as they danced to some unheard song, and fell to the two papers that lay before him.

The larger of the pair was a rather detailed rendered map of Carne Village and its surrounding area. This included a small section of the Forest of Tob and the grasslands.

The current incarnation of the map was quite the improvement over the iteration which the Orrery Keeper had presented to him. On that note, Tiberius made a mental note to complement the Chief Diviner on the progress of his artistic talents.

Lying next to the map was a plain sheet of paper with an accompanying quill and ink jar.

The piece of paper was barren save for four lines scribbled upon it.

Scrawled across the top in large lettering was the title, Ideas for Village Defenses. Just below this were three lines, each consisting of a single word. The first line was the word Weapons, followed by Armour, and the final word was Walls.

However, the first two had a sharp line drawn through them.

These three things were the only things that Tiberius had been able to conjure up for all his brainstorming. But then he had discounted two of the three.

The reasoning for his decision was simple enough.

The human village was situated at the intersection of two different borders. The first was the natural border created by the Forest of Tob and the great expanse of grasslands. The next was the man-made borders of the Kingdom of Re-Estize and the Baharuth Empire. This positioning meant that Carne faced a variety of threats.

While the grasslands themselves seemed to possess little in the way of threats. It was nonetheless an open pathway for any who wished to attack the village. This didn't mean that an attacking force couldn't approach from the Forest of Tob. However, given its propensity for monsters meant that humans tended to avoid the area. So it was to be expected that any attacker was most likely of the inhuman variety.

Thus Tiberius was mildly surprised to see that the villagers hadn't bothered to erect a wall to protect themselves. After all, walls were the most basic form of protection one could have. Any attacker would first have to deal with the initial barrier shielding you, giving you time to either prepare a counterattack or escape.

With this in mind, the dragonoid decided the villagers were in need of a proper wall. Yet the other two proposals presented a number of issues.

Amongst the foremost was that within YGGDRASIL, the Sanguine Dragons were considered a high-tier guild. Of their ninety-two members, all but a few individuals were maxed out a level 100, and those few who weren't were around level 90.

This meant that providing any weapons or armour to the villagers would be a problem.

YGGDRASIL was an RPG, this meant that the tier of a player's equipment was limited by their level. As a player grew stronger, they would then gain access to new, more powerful sets of equipment to outfit themselves. As a guild of high-tier players, it stood to reason that their chosen equipment was of an equal level. Something visibly showcased by the full set of divine class gear that Tiberius himself possessed.

Furthermore, many pieces of gear came with their own restrictions independent of player level. Sometimes these were limitations that restricted its use to characters of a particular race, or of a specific job class.

But those were obvious. Some items possessed what was known as hidden restrictions. It was a dirty little trick that made them some of the most irksome objects to come across.

In a case similar to the little-known hidden job classes within the game, these items relied on unknown restrictions. To unlock the item a player would need an explicit set of requirements such as being a of predetermined race, class, and possessing a specific skill. Otherwise, the pieces were completely unusable.

Thankfully, the developers were kind enough to plant clues in the locations where the items were to be found. These clues could take a variety of forms, from a mural on a wall to words on a plaque, or even a hem that referenced the items. In some rare cases, it was another item was needed to meet the requirements.

As to be expected, many of these pieces found their way onto the YGGDRASIL auction listings.

A fellow guildmate of Tiberius', a fellow named AshIncubus, had been nearly driven mad –metaphorically speaking– after procuring a pair of unique and powerful enchanted gauntlets from a sale. Unfortunately, AshIncubus fell into the same cycle as without the clues he had been unable to discover the keys to unlock them. So after many a trial and error –more error than anything– had promptly dumped them back on the market.

These kinds of things meant that the villagers of Carne, being little more than low-level farmers, hunters, etc., would be unable to make use of any equipment that would come from Týrnaust.

And yet, Tiberius had been witness to those magic casters making use of a YGGDRASIL Sealing Crystal. If this was possible then it stood to reason that people of this world could meet those qualifications. However, the Warrior-Captain, Gazef Stronoff, had implied that these individuals were the exception, not the rule. So while it might be possible, Tiberius was rather hesitant to discover if they could or not and thus continued to wrestle with this conundrum.

It was beginning to seem the more thought he devoted to this matter. The more problems he discovered in his underlying attempts at a solution.

The dragonoid let out an aggravated huff and grew restless. Bringing his left arm up, he lay it upon the lacquered wood of the conference table and began to drum his taloned fingers on its smooth surface.

What was supposed to be a simple undertaking was now proving itself to be anything but. In fact, it was growing into a major irritation as he continued to struggle to come up with an answer.

However, before the dragonoid's frustrations could mount further there came a knock at the door. At the sound, he took his eyes off the papers and looked to the doors. Thankful for the distraction, Tiberius responded.

"Enter," he called out.

The pair of large white oak doors creaked softly as they parted and through the gap emerged a small reptilian snout.

"Umm, master. I has more papers from Lady Yuliana."

Wordlessly Tiberius raised his arm and gestured for the diminutive bard to come closer.

The doors moved further allowing Kip to fully enter the room. He stood with his usual slightly hunched stance and tucked in the crook of his arm was what looked to be a small portfolio. Taking the moment, the kobold turned and shut the door before making the journey to the dragonoid's side.

Reaching the far end of the table the kobold removed the feathered beret from his head and bowed. Rising Kip replaced his cap and pulled the portfolio from under his arm and placed it on the tabletop.

Eyeing the delivery, Tiberius shifted and drew himself up in his seat.

Extending his arm, he pulled the folder before himself and opened it to the first page. It was at times like this that the ability to speed read was something he was thankful for. It was a skill that came in handy with his working life and now it aided him in much the same manner.

Flipping through several pages, he absorbed the information therein and found the contents to be nothing of great importance. Mainly consisting of a status report for Yuliana's progress with the audit and a brief update concerning Carne Village.

Much to the dragonoid's preference, the village continued to remain in a peaceful state since his departure. So with a satisfied hmmph, he closed the folder and placed it aside to rest amongst the other portfolios.

From the corner of his vision, Tiberius took of note the reptilian bard still standing at his side. Kip had clasped his hands together as he fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in a nervous dance.

"Are you all right, Kip?"

The kobold looked up at the much larger draconian and nodded emphatically, "Yess, Kip fine."

"Then is there something else you need?"

"Oh, Kip was just waiting for Master to finish reading. Then Kip was supposed to remind him of the meeting."

Oh.

Could it have been that time already?

For a moment, the dragonoid glanced about the room, his eyes seeking a clock to confirm. Alas, there was no such timepiece within the Council Chamber. After all, what need was there when the time had been so prominently displayed in the corner of YGGDRASIL's in-game HUD?

Clearing his throat, Tiberius spoke, "Well then, I guess I should tidy up this mess."

"Oh, Kip help! Kip help!"

With a rather surprising level of enthusiasm, the kobold quickly approached the side of the table, drew back one of the chairs, and climbed atop. Standing on the chair, he reached across the table and began to gather the scattered leaflets alongside his master.

Together the pair sorted through the papers, pausing intermittently when the bard wasn't sure into which stack a particular sheet belonged. But with Kip's added help it didn't take long before the mess disappeared and order was again restored.

A knock at the door resounded through the room, startling Kip such that he nearly dropped the stack of papers from his grasp. But he recovered quickly, rapping the stack on the tabletop he set them within the folder before placing it atop a nearby stack.

The labour finished none too soon as across the room the white oak doors parted to permit the group of newcomers to enter.

As it seemed customary with each gathering, it was Yuliana who strode at the head of the procession. Following behind her, Koraboros and Aeon moved side-by-side, while the figures of Mathias and Nido trailed at the rear.

Upon seeing the others, Kip hurriedly grabbed his beret from its resting place on the tabletop and hopped from the chair. Once on the ground again, he turned and adjusted the chair's placement, returning it to its usual position before moving to stand beside Tiberius.

The small group again broke up and predictably took their places about the long conference table. There the NPCs stood, bowed, and upon receiving a gesture of recognition from the dragonoid, drew back their chosen chairs and were seated.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Tiberius rumbled, "Yuliana, why don't you start us off."

"Yes," the Guardian Overseer cleared her throat, directing her gaze to a portfolio before her, "The audit of the Treasury continues to make progress. However, I encountered a number of discrepancies when going over the inventory listings. Thus delaying my efforts."

The dragonoid arched a scale-laden brow in near-equal parts curiosity and concern, "What sort of discrepancies?"

"Well, my lord, it would seem that some items had been improperly classified and placed in the wrong category. However, thanks to the aid of the Treasury Guardian, we were able to properly rectify the error."

"Ah, I see. If the mistake was made by one of my fellows then I apologize. It was probably done when we had busied ourselves with raiding and was inadvertently placed."

"No. I cannot fault one of the Supreme Beings," the raven-haired Guardian disputed, "As you said, my lord, the Creators were preoccupied with vanquishing their adversaries. A task far more imperative than that of simple item sorting."

Tiberius nodded, "Be that as it may, do be sure to pace yourself with this task, Yuliana. In the face of such a tedious undertaking, it would be easy to make a mistake if you become burned out on it."

"I thank you, Lord Tiberius, for your concern," the Guardian Overseer flashed a soft smile at the dragonoid.

Shifting his focus, the dragonoid turned to address the Seraphim Guardian.

"Aeon, how have the scouting operations been proceeding?"

"It goes well, sire," the armoured angel responded, "The scouts continue to expand their survey of the lands surrounding Týrnaust. As of yet, they have not uncovered any signs of habitation in the region. Aside from the usual fare of wildlife or the occasional monster."

At the mention of monsters, the dragonoid seemed to perk up, and noticing this Yuliana interceded as if predicting their master's impending question.

"I have read through the latest reports, and so far the fauna continues to be of typical quality akin to what has been previously sighted. However, knowing of your interest in this topic I have sent instructions to the scouts that should a particularly noteworthy specimen be found they shall send word immediately."

"Ah, thank you, Yuliana."

The Guardian Overseer bowed her head.

"Now then, Koraboros, have you and Nido been able to learn anything further about this city of E-Rantel?"

"Indeed, we have," the Demon Lord answered, "Making use of Shadow Demons and similar creatures, we have begun to strategically probe at the city's perimeter. A test of their defences, if you will."

That last line was spoken with a lighthearted tone.

"Oh, and what you discovered?"

"It pleases me to report that the foolishness of these humans continues. The city appears to lack any means of detecting their intrusion. As such they have been able to infiltrate and move freely throughout the city."

"I see."

During his brief stay in Carne Village, the Village Chief had passed along what information he could about the city of E-Rantel. The fortress city was the only major city within this region and as such was a prominent trade hub. It also sat near the disputed border between Re-Estize and Baharuth. So it stood to reason that the reason would have some sort of system in place for protection against concealed enemies.

For this not to be the case, it struck the dragonoid as a surprise.

However, as he thought about this perhaps there was a reason for this.

The magic in this world seemed to be of a much lower tier than what was commonplace in YGGDRASIL. This could best be exemplified by the scar-faced man as he ranted and raved about the magic that he and his men possessed. Or the way they had hailed the Dominion Authority, an angel well below that of a Seraphim, as the strongest tier of angel.

Such talk had left Tiberius to wonder if maybe there were no higher tiers of magic in this world. Perhaps it was simply because the dragonoid was still thinking in terms of YGGDRASIL's power levels.

As what would seem weak to him, being a level 100, would appear impossibly strong to someone at level 1. But then again, maybe it was because he just hadn't come across a strong opponent yet.

This was a question he had yet to resolve. But he would inquire about it when he next spoke to that dark-eyed man.

"Very well, continue your observations and collect whatever information you can," Tiberius paused, "In Carne, the village chief spoke of an adventurer's guild located somewhere in the city walls. Instruct your minions to seek them out, I would like to know more about them and their capabilities."

"Of course," Koraboros drew out the last syllables, his accent making it sound like the protracted hiss of a snake.

The dragonoid's gaze shifted, "Nido, have you anything new to add?"

"I do, my lord. I have managed to greatly expand the boundaries of my survey. Furthermore, as per your wishes, I have continued to track the movements of the human warband after they departed from the village."

"Oh."

"The human soldiers followed the western road after leaving Carne. Along the way, they made a brief layover at the fortress city to resupply before continuing onward. As of yet, the group has not reached their destination and has been spending their time on the roads. Or camping in the wilderness."

"Hmm," the dragonoid lent back into his chair, returning to the somewhat awkward position he was used to. "If that is the case then I don't believe that we need to devote too much of our focus to them. However, do continue to keep an eye on them. I am curious to see this capital that their leader spoke of returning to. Oh, and by the way, Nido. I wish to offer my compliments on the latest version of your map. Your skill is definitely improving."

The Orrery Keeper inclined his head in acknowledgment. A familiar twinkle glinted in his blue eye.

"Now, is there anything else that you wish to discuss?"

"If I may, my lord."

Tiberius nodded to the seraphim.

"As per your commands, in conjunction with Lady Yuliana and Sir Koraboros, we have drafted a variety of strategies for the defense of the mountain."

"Excellent, we cannot predict when an enemy may turn up so all we can do is prepare."

Aeon nodded in agreement, "However, I have a suggestion I would like to put forward."

Raising his arm, the dragonoid gestured with an open hand for the angelic being to proceed.

"As thorough as we may plan, until our tactics are put to the test there will always be an air of uncertainty about them. So with your permission, we would like to enact a series of drills to test our strategies."

Resting his elbow on the chair's armrest, Tiberius ran his taloned thumb along the length of his jaw as he considered the idea. What angelic Floor Guardian had said rang true. They could spend a thousand years amassing plans to defend Týrnaust. But until the time they had to actually implement those policies, there was no way of knowing how effective they would prove. After all, it would be all too easy to overlook something and leave a weakness for the enemy to exploit.

"You do have a point, Aeon. Very well, you have my permission to conduct your tests."

"I thank you, Lord Tiberius."

The conversation continued as the dragonoid discussed preparations for these upcoming readiness drills. During the talk, each of the Floor Guardians proposed further ideas, and plans were modified on the spur of the moment. While from her place at the table, Yuliana listened and as the discourse proceeded she found her attention drifting to the papers that littered the table.

She studied the contents, recognizing the penmanship of herself and that of her fellow guardians.

From the harsh and sharp lines, accompanied by a spackling of ink that spoke to the identity of the author being Koraboros. To the elegant and ornate lines that flowed smoothly across the page that Nido so often used. Even the light and airy style that was so faint on the paper which Aeon favoured.

Yuliana had often found it amusing that such a robust warrior possessed such delicate penmanship.

Yet there was one piece of paper that lay on the table beside the much larger map that stood out amongst the others. The writing on the page was rather plain with no flourish as the styling appeared to favour function over form.

With curiosity, Yuliana reached out, placing a fingertip on the paper's edge. Then with a gentle tug, the Guardian Overseer pulled the page from its resting place. Drawing it closer to herself, she quickly rotated the sheet so as to better read what was written upon it.

"What's this?"

These actions did not go unnoticed by the dragonoid seated at the head of the table. His flame-coloured eyes tracked her movements.

Ah, crap.

"Oh, that," Tiberius replied as he attempted to sound unconcerned, "Some simple musings really. I didn't put much effort into it as you can see."

"As you shouldn't, my lord. The village has proven useful to our purposes and may yet do so again in the future. But the humans are certainly not worthy of receiving your full energies." Turning back to the paper, the raven-haired beauty's jade-coloured eyes scanned over the writing. "I must agree with your choices. A defensive wall would provide a fine layer of protection for the humans, and your wisdom to disallow them the gift of weapons or armour."

The dragonoid arched his scaly brow with interest at Yuliana's response.

"Oh, you do?"

"Well, of course. Should a village of what is tantamount to simple hunter-gatherers be found to be suddenly brandishing equipment far above their station? Why it would certainly attract the attention of outsiders, especially those familiar with the village and its inhabitants to begin with."

"Indeed, I must concur."

The Demon Lord on the opposite side of the conference table shifted, adopting a more relaxed posture. Leaning back in his chair, Koraboros placed his right leg astride his left knee and rested his hands on his lap.

"Beyond such a trifle. There also lies the possibility that granting such boons to these humans may empower them to think and attempt to utilize any equipment against their benefactors."

There came a deep clap that echoed throughout the chamber following the infernal Guardian's words. It was the sound of Aeon's armoured fist colliding with the lacquered wood of the conference table.

"Blasphemy!" the Seraphim's iron voice rang out, "Such a coup would be doomed before it began."

"Oh yes, it most certainly would," Koraboros replied with joviality, "Although I must admit that such an event would be a most enjoyable play to witness. To watch their pitiful struggle against the inevitable, perhaps to allow them a brief moment of hope, to see that glimmer in their eyes." The Demon Lord lifted his hand as if he were gently taking hold of something. "Then to steal that moment away and leave them bare before grinding them beneath our heel." He then closed his fist tightly and sighed in a most blissfully exaggerated manner. "Still, it would be a hassle to have to find and train a new group of humans to take their place."

The dragonoid looked on a slow smile spread over the Demon Lord's lips, his scarlet eyes gleamed. It was the same gleefully predatory expression that Koraboros had worn the day when he'd all but massacred the men of the Slane Theocracy. It was actually a disturbing image to witness.

Hearing his words, Yuliana turned to address her fellow Guardian.

"Come now, Koraboros. Do you truly believe that these humans would be intelligent enough to concoct such an idea?" her tone was lighthearted, almost humourous. "They have chosen to build their settlement amidst dangerous territory and couldn't even think to build basic protections for themselves. Instead, they must rely on the goodwill of our master to solve their faults."

The NPCs looked at each other from their places across the table before erupting into a chorus of laughter at the village's expense.

"Ah, what you say is true, my lady. These humans are a pathetic species, though a most entertaining one nonetheless."

"Yes," Tiberius cleared his throat, "One has to consider all angles before reaching a conclusion."

Who am I kidding? I didn't think of any of that stuff. I just figured they couldn't use anything I would give them.

His eyes roamed across those gathered before he continued.

"However, the dilemma persists. The village does need protection and the construction of a wall would only provide so much. And I don't wish to station any of Týrnaust's own in the village."

While the room was silent, the dragonoid was keenly aware of the mood of those present. It seemed they very much approved of his choice, although he knew that they did not openly say as much.

Thusly Tiberius found himself right back where he had started with no idea of how to proceed.

Without any further input from their master, a conversation soon arose amongst the NPCs as each put forth ideas. Together they discussed the various merits and detriments of each suggestion. At several points, the discourse turned into little more than a civil argument as the three Floor Guardians grew more passionate about their particular idea.

All while Tiberius listened, he prepared to intervene as things grew heated. However, he was soon distracted by a light tug at his sleeve. Shifted in his seat, the dragonoid turned to look at the little kobold that stood waiting.

"Hmm? What is it, Kip?"

"Uh, master. Why not use the stone men?"

"Stone men?"

"Ah, I believe, Lord Tiberius," Mathias interjected, "That little Kip is referring to the golems of the Grand Arena."

"Golems?" a rich accented voice echoed.

"Why Kip that is a splendid idea," the Guardian Overseer beamed at the bard.

"I-it is?"

"Yes, it is a most excellent proposal," the Demon Lord commended, "Golems could solve many a problem. Foremost stationed within the village they would make efficient protectors. The golems would also be ultimately loyal only to the master's will. Thus removing any threat of the humans attempting to wield them against us."

The armour-clad seraphim bowed his helmeted head, "I, too, must congratulate you, young Kip, for this fortuitous offer."

Folding his arms across his chest, the dragonoid thought over the idea.

Golems… Well, they wouldn't place a burden on the village since they wouldn't require any maintenance. And they could be easily hidden if needed.

"All right, we shall use Kip's idea and station a pair of golems within the village. Yuliana, I would like you to determine which type of golem would be best suited for this undertaking."

"Yes, my lord."

"Now then, is there any further business to discuss?" a shake of the head was all the answer Tiberius needed, "Then this meeting is adjourned."

The NPCs bowed their heads before rising from their self-appointed seats and began to file out of the room. Even little Kip, a pleasant yet toothy smile on his reptilian visage, bowed before he followed after the others out of the Council Chamber.

However, there was one who lingered.

The Guardian Overseer had moved and now stood in place of the diminutive bard, her hands clasped together before her.

Glancing up from his chair, Tiberius looked at the standing female, "What is it, Yuliana?"

"I beg your pardon, my liege. But there is a minor matter that could use your attention."

"What might that be? Although I must ask why did you not bring it up during the meeting?"

Yuliana bowed, "Forgive me. I did not wish to broach the topic in front of the others and bring more shame to it than what is already owed."

"Oh?" It was undeniable that her mood had soured greatly at the thought of whatever it was she wished to discuss. "You have my attention."

The raven-haired female nodded, "It is in regards to the brothers, Remus and Romulus."

"What about them?"

"Well, after their vulgar display of such boorish behaviour the night of the gathering. I took the liberty of administering a fitting punishment to the pair." Her jade-coloured eyes surveyed the impassive face of her master and she swallowed, "I can only ask for your pardon, I know that as the supreme authority within Týrnaust, it is your right to dole out punishments. And by taking it upon myself, I have shown disrespect to you and the other Creators."

No sooner had the words left her lips than Yuliana dropped to her knees.

"I am willing to accept whatever penance you set forth."

Tiberius eyed the female NPC for a moment before replying.

"I understand, but I see no problem. You are the Guardian Overseer as such the supervision of the other Floor Guardians does fall within your purview. So I see no reason to reprimand you."

"Oh, master."

Tiberius cleared his throat in the awkward silence, "But if the brothers have already been punished, then I fail to see what more you would have me do."

"In speaking with the brothers I get the impression that the matter is still unresolved. And I believe that if you were to speak with them about the subject, it would help them to find closure."

"Ah," came the dragonoid's rumble of an answer, "So be it, I shall pay a visit to the third floor and speak with the two before I visit the treasury."

Hearing this, Yuliana cocked her head, "The treasury, my lord? If I may inquire, what business would take you there? Have I made a mistake in my accounts?"

"No, no, nothing of the sort. Your reports have been flawless as always. This is in relation to the human village. While we may have solved the issue of protecting the village as a whole with the golems. They will not do with regards to that girl and her family."

"The girl and her family?" the Guardian Overseer repeated, her tone being one of puzzlement at first. Then a wave of recollection flooded her mind, "Ah yes, I recall the human girl who spoke with you before our departure. What further dealings could you have with them?"

"As you may recall, I rescued that particular family and gave my word to the daughter that I would aid her family," Tiberius answered, his tone coming out harsher than he had intended causing the kneeling female to tremble. "As such, I would prefer not to see a repeat of that event."

"Of course, Lord Tiberius. I did not mean to question your decisions. Your desires are all that matter," Yuliana lowered her head in reverence to the dragonoid.

"It's fine, Yuliana. You were only curious, there is no harm in that."

Lifting her head, the female NPC smiled, "Thank you, Lord Tiberius, for listening to my words."

With a nod from her master, the Guardian Overseer rose from her knees and bowed deeply before turning toward the doors. The graceful movements of the dark-haired beauty were followed closely by the dragonoid's attentive gaze. His flame-coloured eyes having a difficult time straying from Yuliana's rather tantalizing figure.

Only when she had disappeared from his view, slipping through the parted doors and into the hall beyond, that Tiberius allowed himself to relax. His large frame sagged in the chair for a moment. Then with a sigh, the dragonoid rose from the gaudy chair to stand at the head of the conference table. Sidestepping he tucked his chair back into its place under the table before moving to exit the chamber himself.

o – o – o – o

A brilliant beam of light shone down on him from somewhere high above.

Such was the intensity of the illumination that Nigun was forced to blink his dark eyes repeatedly and avert his gaze, lest he be struck with pain akin to gazing into the sun. In an attempt to shield his vision from the blazing light, he moved his arm… or at least he tried to.

Disturbingly the theocracy mage's body felt numb and nearly unresponsive to his mental commands. Again and again, he tried to move, and still, the foreign sensation persisted.

What did this mean?

Nigun's mind was enveloped in a cloudy haze as he struggled to think, attempting to decipher the puzzle before him. He tried to recall his most recent memories.

The scar-faced man could recollect the events leading up to this point – the mission to assassinate Gazef Stronoff. Fresh memories of the confrontation flooded his mind, and he felt a sense of triumph as he witnessed the Kingdom's mightiest warrior fall under the relentless assault of the Sunlight Scripture. However, that moment of glory was snatched away from him. What should have been a victorious moment crumbled with the sudden appearance of two unknown warriors on the battlefield. Just one of them decimated his unit of highly trained soldier priests, even overpowering the Dominion Authority, the strongest angel the world had ever seen.

He attempted to flee, hoping to escape the nightmare, only to be confronted by a creature straight from old tales – a devilish beast that pursued him and his cohorts relentlessly. The mage shuddered as a knot formed in the pit of his stomach, and cold sweat moistened his skin at the recollection of those burning coals staring back at him.

Then everything had gone black and he had awakened to nothing. Yet he couldn't be certain he was awake.

Nigun was weightless and set adrift within a void, without the feel of gravity he was deprived of a sense of direction. He tried to move, waving his limbs in any direction as he tried to find a purchase with which to orientate himself. But it was in vain, there was nothing to find and his erratic movements only resulted in an out-of-control spin.

Panic had set in quickly for the blonde-haired man in those moments.

As terror gripped him, the theocracy mage had cried out, shouting into the emptiness until his throat was raw and it hurt to try. However, being unable to scream mattered not for even as he try there was no sound. Countless times he brought his hands together in a frenzied series of claps and each time his ears strained to listen. But his only reward was the burning pain in his hands. While the only noise, he perceived was the furious thundering of his heart beating within his chest, a sound so deafening as it was absolute.

This brought to mind a myriad of questions. Was this the work of that demon? Had he been trapped in some dark abyss, perhaps the very same abyss from which it had crawled? Was he even alive anymore?

The mage had attempted to block out these intrusive musings with other thoughts only to find a new wave of fear. He tried to maintain calm by tracking the time but within that inky blackness, time lost all meaning. So it was that Nigun grew frustrated and resumed his fruitless struggles.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion as it crept into his body but as he found himself slipping in and out of consciousness, the theocracy mage believed he heard things. It was like quiet mutterings, indistinct and distant, the sounds from these mysterious speakers reached his ears. He endeavoured to shut them out with prayer and recitation of the oaths of his offices. Yet this only made them grow louder and more incessant.

Then came the cacophony of countless fluttering wings. The sound encircled him and numerous times he swore he could feel something brush against him. Fear welled up within him and he thrashed wildly to keep whatever was lurking there at bay. All the while his unnaturally dark eyes scanned the endless void.

When the fluttering had finally ceased then came the rustling and the hissing, like a riled-up bushel of serpents. This was followed by the voices again. The strange whispering voices spoke to him in some intelligible language.

Was it the gods?

Or was it the work of the devils working to torment him?

But neither mattered as much as that the voices were ceaseless. It was maddening. So he was thankful when after an unknown amount of time they stopped.

However, all of this was overshadowed by the sudden and intense lance of pain that struck his head. It felt as if a white-hot spike was being driven into the temples of his skull. Then, a suffocating pressure enveloped him, akin to being smothered beneath a heavy blanket, rendering clear thinking nearly impossible. The mounting pressure pushed him deeper into the recesses of his own mind, until finally, he succumbed to unconsciousness.

Now returned to the world, Nigun Grid Luin found himself in an unknown setting.

Could this all be a figment of his imagination, a creation of his overtaxed mind? Was he truly here or was he still just floating aimlessly within that bleak emptiness?

However, the feel of the cold metallic slab pressing against him seemed to speak otherwise. Though his body was numb, Nigun got the distinct impression that some great weight was resting atop him. But this was not a singular point as a restraint would create. No, this was as if something was pressing over his person.

He struggled against this weight and finally with great effort Nigun managed to move his head and only his head.

His dark-coloured eyes swiveled in their sockets as he looked about the room.

Beyond his feet, Nigun could just make out the shape of what looked to be a long high table. Atop it was multiple shapes but he was unable to make them out as they were enveloped by thick shadows. Instead, he only had vague impressions of what they were and none of them were good.

Continuing with the survey of his surroundings, the room was rather vacant save for a large round shape on one of the walls. Perhaps a door of some kind.

Assured that he was alone within the room, Nigun again endeavoured to move, only to feel the pressure upon him grow heavier. With every attempt, the unseen force that held him tightened its grip upon him.

"Resistance is futile."

Immediately the blonde-haired mage froze at the sound of the voice. His unnatural dark eyes wildly scanned the room, searching for anyone or anything he could've missed.

"Such a pitiful and wretched creature you are."

The unseen speaker said to him.

It was less a spoken voice and more a raspy whisper that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. What's more, was the manner in which he perceived the voice.

It wasn't as if he'd heard the voice on the air as normal. No, it was more akin to the voice that had come from within his head.

There came a faint click and the sound of metal scraping that startled Nigun enough to make him jump. Turning his head, he looked to the place of the circular shape on the wall. From his place, he watched as his assumption was proven right and the door began to open.

Like the opening of an iris, distinct blade-like protrusions withdrew in a spiraling manner. From the opened doorway stood a figure silhouetted by the light from outside.

This individual was tall and lanky, and though the details were obscured by the light, Nigun could distinguish the abnormally long arms that hung to its sides and a large rounded dome of the head that rose above a high collar.

This stranger stood motionless on the threshold before entering the room. However, this individual didn't move with the typical bobbing motions that came with a walking stride. Instead, this figure seemed to somehow grow taller and with a fluid-like grace appeared to glide into the room.

Once whoever they were had entered the chamber the iris of the door slid closed behind them and again sheltered the room's edges in darkness.

"W-where am I? W-w-what have you done to me?"

The stranger did not answer and continued to remain hidden in the shadows. They flittered about soundlessly, occasionally stopping at some spot around the room and lingered there for a time before resuming. Several times Nigun had lost track of the visitor as they moved in and out of his line of sight to move about somewhere behind him.

Whenever that happened, Nigun could hear an assortment of sounds, including a series of metallic clanks and scrapes that sent chills down his spine.

Mustering what little of his nerve remained, he drew a breath and announced, "I-I am Nigun Grid Luin, Commander of the Sunlight Scripture, a proud soldier in service to the great Slane Theocracy. I demand that you release me this instant!"

This sudden and brash display did little to garner the being's interest as they rounded the table and moved to the opposite side of the room. There they remained, looming in the darkness just out of sight.

"You are in no position to make demands, human. Your continued existence in this world is at the sole discretion of my master."

The whispering voice returned to echo within Nigun's mind and caused him to wince. However, at the mention of a master, a terrible feeling crept into his very core. While glimpses of memory flashed in the mind of the restrained mage, and in them he saw the unknown warrior clad in silver armour.

"Y-your master?! The Demon God!"

A heavy clang rang out as something metallic clattered to the floor. With a fearful shudder, Nigun used what little freedom allotted to him to move his head when he perceived a flurry of motion. From deep within the shadows, the stranger whirled around to face him, the individual's ire at his statement was clear.

"Fool!" the rage-filled voice crashed over Nigun with all the force of a tsunami to fill his skull with unbelievable pressure. "You have no idea to which you speak! Your ignorance will not save you from such a blasphemous disrespect."

It welled up within the confines of his head, pushing against his mind until the theocracy soldier priest began to feel as if he might explode. But then it receded and the relief was instant. Nigun fell back, his heart thundering in his chest.

"However, you will learn."

From the corner of his eye movement attracted the mage's gaze as the mysterious guest glided closer, and closer until passing over the threshold of the darkness and into the light.

As their features were illuminated, Nigun felt an instant and intense sense of revulsion and terror.

They wore a snug-fitting robe made of dye-darkened leather, with a tall funnel-like collar that concealed most of their body. The garment clung so tightly to their frame that it revealed a clear outline of their form, leaving only the head and hands visible.

The body appeared gaunt, yet it possessed a robust nature. The arms were unusually long, with fingertips reaching down to the knees. The hands were particularly peculiar, with overly long digits boasting two extra joints per finger. But what made them even stranger was the presence of an additional thumb opposite the standard one, covered in lavender flesh. To Nigun, these beings' six-fingered hands resembled those of a large spider.

However, the most terror-inducing aspect was undoubtedly the individual's head.

The head had a bizarre appearance, reminiscent of tentacled creatures that fishermen occasionally pulled from the sea - octopuses.

Similar to the hands, the head was also covered in dark-lilac-coloured skin, with a slightly wet-like sheen that glistened under the light. Its proportions could be described as bulbous, featuring two entirely black eyes. These abyssal orbs possessed a glossy shine akin to oil on water. There was no indication of a nose or mouth; instead, where a mouth should have been, there were four great and writhing tentacles.

"Does my appearance upset you, human?"

There was mirth in the creature's voice as it drew ever nearer. The monstrous thing flitted along the right side of the slab. There it paused, bending at the waist it leaned over the restrained mage.

Nigun shuddered violently at the creature's newfound proximity. Though held in place, he struggled to draw away with all his might. Yet it was a futile attempt as whatever unseen means were being used to hold him in place was unyielding.

In slow motion, the monstrous thing lifted an arm and held its spiderlike hand outstretched above him.

Instantly Nigun's body went stark still and though he tried to rail against it, his body would not respond to his will. Then his muscles started to spasm uncontrollably as if he was electrically jolted. White-hot pain raced through his body as Nigun writhed on the metal slab.

Throughout it all, the blonde-haired soldier priest could only stare up at the ceiling. His eyelids held wide as they refused to close. The pain grew worse as his muscles convulsed in never-ending waves. Even his lungs seemed to be paralyzed, stopping any attempt to take in much-needed oxygen.

The edges of Nigun's vision began to grow dark and hazy overall while his lungs burned for air. Then mercifully just as the man began to feel as if he might die, it ceased, and his body went limp. His breath came in great heaving gasps to ease his body's demand for air.

"P-p-please…" was all that he managed to utter with a pronounced whimper.

"Worry not little thing. My master has instructed me to prepare you for his imminent arrival. This means I cannot bring you any lasting damage."

The tentacle-faced monster drew back its arm and began to move once more. This time it wandered around to the head of the slab to stand over Nigun. The creature's form blocked out the overhead light. Inclining his head, it gazed down at him while its tentacles twitched about; occasionally he could feel the revolting clammy texture when one brushed up against his skin.

Nigun's dark eyes stared up at the emotionless black orbs of the creature.

"However, I have other methods with which to prepare you," the malevolence that resonated within that voice brought tears to the eyes of the human, "Now then, my little plaything…. Let us begin, shall we?"

Again, Nigun felt the being's cold moist touch as the tentacles made contact with him, and his conscious world was plunged into one of inconceivable agony.

o – o – o – o

The gates of the third floor, barricades formed from the thickly entwined vines, parted ways before the dragonoid was allowed to enter.

Týrnaust's third floor was one of the three largest within the mountain, rivaled only by the Ninth Floor and the Grand Treasury in scope. Like the ninth floor, it possessed one of the highest ceilings. In a similar fashion, the third floor had a rather detailed virtual skybox.

However, while the Ninth Floor's skybox possessed a full day-night cycle the imitation sky was frozen. Instead, here it was a perpetual cycle between twilight and full night. When the night cycle was active, the heavens were filled with dazzling auroras. Their brilliant iridescent displays danced across the blanket of darkness. Behind the colourful light show was the glimmer of twinkling starlight. Intermittently, shooting stars would race across the skybox like some celestial Grand Prix.

Amongst this backdrop, there was a set of twin moons. One an earthy red and the other pale blue, together they traversed the skybox in a properly timed interval.

Below this majestic set piece was the reason for the ceiling's height.

A forest of towering trees spanned nearly the entirety of the third floor. With trunks easily spanning twenty to forty feet across and standing anywhere between one hundred and three hundred feet in height. They were called Redwoods if Tiberius' memory served him correctly. It was for these reasons that this level earned the moniker of the Twilight Forest.

Sheltered beneath the dense canopy was a myriad of smaller trees and other bits of foliage populated the floor. As with any woodland setting, it was not without its dangers.

A variety of vicious beasts prowled the forest's undergrowth, always on the hunt for interlopers.

Amongst them were creatures like Spriggans and Dryads who stood guard, their powers over the green ready to rally the shrubbery for the mountain's defense. Packs of carnivorous beasts patrolled their defined territory, keeping a watchful eye out for potential invaders. In scattered crystalline ponds, tranquil waters were deceiving, as beneath the glassy surface lurked Lurkers and Sulkies, waiting to drag down any unsuspecting trespassers to a watery grave. Hidden in the darker corners were Slimes and Oozes, lying in wait, ready to pounce. Black Slimes, with acid capable of dissolving flesh and bone with tremendous ease, and Arcane Oozes, harnessing magical energies to unleash a wide variety of spells.

Beyond the dangers of the fauna, there were others, of a more insidious nature.

The very air within the forest was weaponized, carrying with it numerous magical debuffs designed to interfere with a magic user's ability to utilize their arsenal of spells. With this in place, should a caster attempt to cast a spell a number of different outcomes could occur.

There were two effects that had the greatest chances of occurring. The first was the chance that the spell being cast could be transformed into something else entirely. This meant that a harmless spell like [Mage Light] could become a more dangerous spell like [Inferno]. Only the Super Tier magics were off-limits. This debuff also removed the friendly fire safeties so any allies could now be harmed. The second effect most likely to happen was that a spell would backfire and turn against the caster themselves.

The most outstanding feature of the floor was one that was shared by all floors of Týrnaust. If one was to look to the center of the forest then one would see the great links of a massive diamond chain. This was a continuation of the same chain that was found in the Throne Room. Located at the base of this chain was the Temple of the World Serpent.

However, that was not the destination Tiberius had in mind for his visit. No, his chosen goal was the unassuming log structure that lay closer to the floor's exit.

At his approach, the dragonoid looked over the area.

Here a simple building dubbed the Hunting Lodge stood against the rural backdrop of the forest.

Styled as a Viking longhouse, the lodge was fifty feet long and nearly half that in width. Its sloped roofline extended from the peak down to ground level and was made from long moss-covered planks. Overall it looked very much like a longboat had been overturned and had become rooted in the soil before being covered in peat moss and grass.

Around the longhouse's exterior were a number of carved totems. Fabricated from rich coloured wood, their barkless surface had been weathered and worn smooth. Each of the totems bore a different likeness, though because of the wear pattern, some of them were harder to discern.

However, there were two more prominent than the others.

These were carved in stone and bore the resemblance of a pair of large wolves seated on their haunches. The bases upon which they sat took the form of a stylized war hammer.

Stepping up to the door, Tiberius took a moment to pause. It was only now that he realized that there was no door and instead, a simple curtain was hung across the threshold.

Am I supposed to knock? Or do I just go in?

He took several seconds to consider two options before the dragonoid decided to split the difference. Raising his hand Tiberius rapped his scaled knuckles against the wooden door frame. As the sound echoed, he waited for a response and when he received no answer the dragonoid decided to enter the domicile.

Pushing past the curtain, Tiberius was forced to duck beneath the frame and step inside the longhouse. Once inside his flame-coloured eyes swept across what could best be described as rustic and homey.

The main room was notably spacious, occupying the majority of the residence's interior. Beneath his clawed feet, the floor appeared to be made of aged wood, matching the exterior of the structure. At the center of the room, there lay a circular depression in the floor, surrounded by a wooden bench adorned with plush cushions. A warm fire burned brightly in the middle of the pit. The walls were adorned with an assortment of pelts, both furred and scaled, alongside trophy heads and a few weapons hanging proudly. Among the martial implements were a pair of crossed battle axes, a large greatsword standing as tall as a man, while another greatsword with a broken blade lay on the floor, and a longbow crafted from dark metallic wood was held by a pair of clawed hands.

On either end of the longhouse was a wall that cordoned off the space beyond. Tiberius knew that these areas were the personal rooms of the lycanthropic brothers. However, he did not know which room belonged to which brother.

This left him to rely upon other means to uncover the answer.

Since Tiberius had set foot on the third floor, he'd been keenly aware of an influx of various scents present on the level. Even here within the longhouse, he could detect a variety of aromas.

Though fewer he was still able to discern three primary smells present.

The acidic smell of the smoke from the small fire at the abode's heart did well to cover the others. Yet they were still there, lingering beneath. The dragonoid's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, his mind sorting through the messages being sent by his nose. His brain deciphered the information into two distinct scents.

The first was a subtle scent, soft and fresh when compared to the other. It was an aroma propagated by bathing oils or perhaps flowery perfumes. The other aroma present was stronger and more of a natural one, something akin to imbibing a lungful of woodland air. It carried a rich earthy scent with an overlay of pine.

Deciding to follow the stronger of the two, Tiberius made his way to the western side of the abode.

As Tiberius tried to proceed, he encountered another curtain, this time made from a fur-covered animal hide. Without much concern for privacy but driven by curiosity, he reached out and drew back the curtain.

On the other side, he found a room that wasn't particularly large and sparsely furnished.

The room was rather modest in size, perhaps no larger than a ten-foot square. On the wall opposite the door, a simple futon lay on the ground. A crumpled heap of soft brown bear pelt covered the mattress, while a pillow made from the grey fur of some animal rested at the head. Mounted above the bed was the head of an adolescent Forest Dragon, serving as a fine trophy. From one of the dragon's horns hung a cord of braided leather, adorned with a set of five large claws – possibly belonging to the dragon. On the same wall, a short stool stood beside the futon - acting as a makeshift nightstand. On it, there sat a plain, unlabeled bottle, half-filled with liquid, a drinking horn, and a bronze tri-leg fixture with a crystal emitting a soft white light.

Next to the doorway, a large chest sat, its lid not fully closed, propped open by the legs of a pair of trousers hanging over the edge. A little further along, a pair of one-handed bearded axes leaned against the corner, their sharpened edges gleaming in the light.

Given the unsophisticated nature of the room's décor, the dragonoid presumed the owner to be the elder brother, Remus.

However, while Tiberius may have determined to which brother the room belonged. Unfortunately, it did not tell where the elder werewolf was, and with no obvious signs of where he had gone, the dragonoid turned and exited the room.

On the opposite side of the longhouse, a stark contrast was evident as an actual door stood, firmly set within the frame instead of a simple curtain. The door's wood was skillfully lacquered and adorned with intricate scrollwork. Beautiful images of packs of wolves running freely through tall waving fields of grass adorned its surface. At the center of the door hung a polished brass knocker in the shape of a wolf's head.

Three solid clacks of the knocker on its mounting plate echoed throughout the quiet of the longhouse.

Shortly after, there were sounds of creaking wood and hurried stomping footsteps from the other side of the closed door. Hearing this, the dragonoid took two steps back, waiting for the room's occupant.

The door opened swiftly and silently on its well-oiled hinges. A spicy scent of incense mixed with the slightly musty odor of old books wafted out from the gap. Then, the occupant emerged from the interior – the slender form of the younger wolven brother, Romulus.

The auburn-haired lad's face was twisted with an expression of irritation – an aspect that swiftly vanished when he laid eyes on the golden-scaled dragonoid standing before him. His amber-gold eyes widened in shock, and Romulus promptly descended to his knees, bowing his head in reverence.

"L-Lord Tiberius, I-I hadn't been expecting you. Please forgive the mess, if I had known you were coming I would have ensured that it was tidied up properly."

Tiberius' eyes scanned the room beyond, peering over its owner's shoulder.

The interior of the bedroom offered a striking contrast to its counterpart.

In the far corner of the room, a Victorian-style four-poster bed stood, adorned with a plush-looking mattress and covered with a deep ocean-blue comforter. Beside the bed was a proper nightstand, featuring a stick of incense resting in a small vase, with thin wisps of smoke drifting up from the softly glowing coal at its tip.

Across from the bed, a tall wardrobe stood, though not overly large by any stretch.

At the foot of the bed, a roll-top desk was accompanied by an oddly modern office chair, and on the desktop lay an opened book, overturned and used as a makeshift bookmark. Along the wall next to the desk, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf was stuffed with a myriad of books and scrolls.

He calls this a mess? My apartment wasn't even half this clean. I mean why bother cleaning when you spend the majority of your time at the office?

Finished with his survey, Tiberius' gaze returned to the kneeling werewolf, "It's quite all right. Since my arrival was a surprise, I take it then that scowl was meant for your brother. Or was it for me?"

Romulus' eyes widened in shock as he gazed up at the dragonoid. Swallowing hard, he answered.

"O-o-of course not, my lord. I-I would never…"

"It's all right, Romulus. It was a jest."

"Ah," the werewolf sighed, tension leaving his body as he visibly relaxed, "I am sorry, Lord Tiberius. I have no excuse, I never should have allowed myself to be seen with such a disrespectful face. But yes, my lord. I had been reading my books when my brother started with his usual disruptive antics."

"Hmm, speaking of. Where is your brother, Remus? I had desired to speak with the both of you."

The lycanthropic Floor Guardian raised his hand and adjusted his spectacles, "If my brother is not within the vicinity. Then I can only assume that he has gone elsewhere to entertain himself. As such I would hazard to guess that he most likely could be found at the Temple of the World Serpent."

"At the temple, eh?" Tiberius mumbled, "May I ask what he is doing there?"

Unable to answer the question, Romulus' fluffy wolven ears lay flat against his scalp as he lowered his eyes toward the floor before shaking his head in the negative.

"Ah well, no matter," the dragonoid merely shrugged, "Come, Romulus, I guess we'll just have to discover for ourselves just what is keeping your brother occupied."

The young Lycan remained unmoving for a time, before slowly rising to his feet. The auburn-haired wolfman stood and dusted the front of his loose-fitted trouser legs.

As his master turned and made his way toward the door, the werewolf hastily retreated into his bedroom once more. Inside, Romulus retrieved his hooded robe from its place in the wardrobe and quickly slipped it on. Exiting the room, he took a moment to shut the door behind him. Then he hurried to the longhouse's exit, his outstretched hand snagging the magical staff from its resting place before he strode swiftly to catch up to the dragonoid.

o – o – o – o

At the center of the third floor, a vast grass-covered clearing lay nestled. The glade was nearly circular and stretched over a thousand feet across. Proudly standing tall at the epicenter of this clearing was the Temple of the World Serpent.

This towering structure was fashioned after the ancient Mesoamerican step pyramids, constructed from black-speckled granite. The pyramid's base extended a remarkable seven hundred feet across, and its golden-capped crown soared to twice the height of the surrounding trees. The speckled stone surface was adorned with intricate etchings of Norse iconography, mainly depicting the legendary World Serpent, Jörmungandr.

The temple pyramid's heart was hollowed out to allow the passage of the great diamond chain to pass through. Symbolically linking this floor to the floors above and below.

At the structure's base, Remus stood gazing up at the immense chain of glittering gemstone links as they sparkled under the starlight.

Around the werewolf, a rough circle had been scratched into the loose soil. Lowering his gaze, Remus' dark amber eyes scanned over the prone forms that lay outside the ring. Scattered about at various distances from the edge were the Temple Guards.

To align with the temple motif, the race known as Serpentfolk had been chosen. They possessed a bipedal form with long limbs, slim muscular torsos, and lengthy prehensile tails. Their heads, with serpentine features, were connected to long flexible necks. In essence, they resembled snakes that had been bestowed with arms and legs.

The lycanthrope had found himself here out of sheer boredom with his brother's seemingly endless studies of stuffy old books. Several times, he had tried to coax Romulus into loosening up and having some fun. In his pursuit, he even challenged his younger sibling to a wrestling match. Regrettably, Romulus promptly declined the offer, much to his disappointment, though not entirely unexpected.

But Remus was not one to easily accept defeat. He persisted in his attempts to lure his brother away from the books. As he spoke to Romulus through the door, he did his best to entice him with other activities. However, Romulus remained stubborn, staunchly refusing to join him.

Forced to seek fun elsewhere, Remus had made his way outside their abode. Stepping through the threshold a smile was brought to his face when he was greeted by his loyal pack of dire wolves.

Dire wolves were mid-tier creatures of level 50, they were far larger than the typical wolf. Each stood a little over five feet at the shoulder and stretched ten feet from snout to tail tip. They were covered in pelts that were a mix of black, grey, and tan. A standout feature was the fur about their necks; here the large canines bore green glowing runic markings.

Remus held his arms wide in a welcoming gesture as the numerous canines rushed toward him. They encircled their lycanthropic master, prancing about him like overeager puppies. In return, the werewolf greeted them with cheer and a myriad of pats and belly rubs as they nuzzled against him.

Together the Lycan and the dire wolves engaged in some playful wrestling before switching over to a game of fetch.

But these activities had only alleviated his boredom for so long.

Placing the branch aside, Remus set out for a new destination, moving deeper into the third floor. The playful pack of dire wolves trailed close behind their alpha as they journeyed through the Twilight Forest. So it was that Remus in his aimless wandering eventually brought himself and his canine companions to the Temple of the World Serpent.

Arriving at the great stone pyramid, the group received a warm welcome from the serpentfolk inhabitants. Remus shared some friendly banter with the Temple Guards before he set to the task of persuading them to join him in a little bit of competition. Though unsure, the werewolf managed to bring them around.

Thus, Remus had hurriedly scratched a simple circle into the ground and taken his place at its center. Then with open arms, he had beckoned the Temple Guards to come at him. They nodded and the contest of strength began. Soon after the reptilians were sent past the ring's boundaries.

Within the competition ring, Remus stretched before running a hand through his shaggy rust-coloured hair.

"Come on guys, surely you're not calling it quits already. I mean we only just got started."

Shakily some of the Serpentfolk managed to raise themselves partially from the ground while others remained prone. Turning their long necks to gaze at the wolven male, the looks in their eyes told of how little motivation they possessed for a rematch.

Remus could only chuckle and shake his head. His amber eyes turned to the dire wolves lounging not far away. Some sat upon their haunches while others lay stretched on their sides or bellies. But all had their brown eyes fixated on the Lycan.

However, the mood took a shift as the large canines shifted, rising from the soft grass they held their snouts to the sky. Nostrils flared in rapid succession as they took a series of deep breaths before turning their collective gaze toward the edge of the clearing.

The abrupt change in their behaviour was not lost on the young werewolf.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Remus questioned the large canines as he scratched behind his ear.

Training his eyes upon the woodland when a flutter of movement and a flash of azure amongst the foliage caught his attention. It was a colour he recognized and his assumption was proven correct when Romulus soon emerged from the treeline.

A wolfish grin spread across Remus' lips at the thought that perhaps his brother had decided to accept his offer after all.

However, his idea to call out to the other werewolf was derailed as another, taller individual stepped forth to stand beside his brother. An individual with golden scales.

Recognition was instinctual and it struck Remus as a lightning bolt and a sudden tremor passed throughout his body. Instantly his causal attitude evaporated and with a clipped pace, he strode to his sibling and the waiting dragonoid.

In a near mirror image of his brother's earlier response, Remus dropped to his knees before the Lord of Týrnaust. It was an act of profound respect, mirrored by the pack of large canines. The dire wolves lined up behind their leader and, with haunches still standing, they lowered their chests to the ground in a makeshift bow.

"Sire," Remus greeted the dragonoid, "What brings you down here?"

Tiberius did not answer right away, instead, taking his eyes off the kneeling werewolf, he gazed out across the open field and to from whence he came. He watched as the uniformed serpentfolk were starting to approach, many of which possessed an odd staggering gait.

"I had desired to speak with you and your brother. But before that, just what have you been up to, Remus?"

The Lycan's sleek triangular ears shifted, lying flat, "Oh… I was just having a friendly wrestling match with the Temple Guards, that's all."

Listening to his brother's nonchalant reply, Romulus shook his head with a sigh.

"Really Brother?"

Hearing this, Remus lifted his head to glare up at his younger sibling.

"Hey, it's not my fault. If you had just accepted my offer then I wouldn't have had to find someone else to have fun with."

"It's not my purpose to be your entertainment, Remus." The other werewolf stood firm and crossed his arms, "Perhaps if you turned that energy toward more intellectual pursuits, maybe then you might find yourself feeling more fulfilled."

"And maybe if you worked out your body as much as you did with your brain. Then maybe you could last more than a handful of rounds when we wrestle."

The dragonoid rolled his eyes at the antics of the wolfen pair.

"All right, that's quite enough of that."

At their master's words, the brothers fell silent.

"Romulus, please tend to the Temple Guardians while I speak with your brother."

Without a word, the younger of the pair nodded and then departed with a confident stride to complete his appointed task. However, not before sending a scathing glare to his kneeling sibling.

"You may rise if you wish, Remus," Tiberius stated once the two were alone.

"Thanks," the shaggy-haired werewolf responded with a grin as he rose.

"Do you and your brother always argue so?"

"No, not always," Remus answered as he dusted the soil and loose grass from his pant legs, before inclining his head to look at the eight-foot-tall dragonoid.

"Oh?" Tiberius cocked his head.

"I get that it may not look like it but we tend to get along pretty well. And Romulus knows I don't really mean anything by it when I tease him." Remus chuckled lightly, "Besides, the bookworm can actually be fun to be around. When he wants to be, that is."

"I see," the dragonoid mumbled, his flame-coloured eyes tracking the werewolf's movement as he turned, looking back over his shoulder to his brother.

So, they have a bit of a sibling rivalry, eh? I wonder if this was of WhiteGnoll's doing, some kind of backstory maybe. Or is this something else? I mean they're alive now, so I rather doubt that they'd be limited by the programming we gave them.

For several moments the master and servant stood in silence. Something the lycanthropic Floor Guardian found a little unnerving. So it was that Remus, instead, focused more on his brother than dwelling on whatever unknowable thoughts that his master currently filled his master's head.

From his place at the dragonoid's side, Remus watched as the spectacled werewolf moved amongst the reptilian guards. He surveyed their wounds which ranged from simple scrapes and bruises to some with lacerations in their scaled hide, gifts left behind from his brother's thoughtless use of his claws. But thankfully all were minor injuries and cured through the use of a low-tier healing spell.

At least Remus made sure to control himself.

Romulus mused as he adjusted his glasses.

"Thank you, Master Romulus," the reptilians spoke with a protracted pronunciation of the S, creating a slight hissing sound.

After their wounds were tended to and their once-exhausted bodies revitalized with newfound energy, the Temple Guards bowed in reverence to the Floor Guardian. In perfect harmony, the temple guardians then turned and expressed their gratitude once more, this time with a slower and much deeper bow, directed towards the dragonoid. Following this show of respect, they rose, pivoted, and embarked on their journey back to the massive stone pyramid to resume their duties.

Romulus bid them a good day with a brief wave before striding to rejoin his brother at their master's side.

"The Temple Guardians are well again, my lord."

"Very good work, Romulus."

The younger wolven sibling held his arm across his waist and bowed, "Thank you."

Tiberius nodded, his gaze shifted between the brothers, "Now then, to get back to the matters at hand. I have been informed that the two of you are troubled by the events that transpired during the gathering."

Their master's words had an immediate effect on the werewolves as the shameful memories of that first night were dredged up. Both lowered their heads, flattened their ears, and hunched their shoulders in a display of submission.

"Now, while I was willing to overlook your tardiness to the gathering. Your behaviour at the time was something else and I have been told that you have also received an appropriate reprimand."

At the mere mention of their punishment, the two werewolves subconsciously withdrew their arms, sliding their hands around behind their backs. Perhaps it was in an attempt to soothe more than their wounded pride.

"However, this does not absolve the crime. The two of you must then make amends through your actions. So it is that I have decided upon a way for you to make penance."

The lycanthropic siblings lifted their heads.

"You have but to tell what it is and we shall see it is done."

"Yeah, we'll do whatever you say."

"The two of you know about the human village that Yuliana and myself visited." The brothers nodded, "Well, this village holds a particular interest for me. So I have decided that you two will help with it."

At that, the brothers once somber mood seemed to improve.

"Now the job I have in mind for you two is a simple one. You see the village is in need of some proper protection. So the two of you will help out by constructing a wall to defend it."

It appeared that some of the brother's enthusiasm had been bled out of them by their master's reveal of his plans. And in its place looks of mild confusion settled over them. This was certainly not what they had been expecting when the dragonoid had spoken of protecting the human village.

However, their reaction was one that Tiberius had been expecting.

The use of menial tasks as a punishment was something he had learned from his former mentor during his days as an intern. That man had a cruel streak to him and had taken particular delight in finding the most tedious and demeaning tasks he could for people. While Tiberius had made use of the tactic when had taken over the position, he didn't have quite the same zeal for it as his mentor. Still, the technique continued to prove itself effective in straightening out problem workers.

Clearing his throat, the dragonoid continued.

"I understand your surprise at my request. After all, such a thing is beneath your station as a Floor Guardian. So perhaps this experience will make you better appreciate what you have and act as a reminder for the future."

The low tone Tiberius used did well to impress upon the auburn-haired siblings the seriousness of his words. In response, the two werewolves lowered themselves to their knees with a grave slowness and bowed their heads.

"We understand, Lord Tiberius."

"My brother is right. We will do whatever it is that you require of us to atone for the shame we have brought to our positions as Guardians of Týrnaust."

Then in unison and without prompting, the pair lifted their heads and met the gaze of their master.

"But more than that, to remove any doubts that you have in us."

"I never harboured any doubts about either you or your brother, Romulus."

The dragonoid offered the two a soft smile. Or as gentle a grin as could be offered by his reptilian visage.

"You are brothers and you will have your disagreements. It is only to be expected as I am sure WhiteGnoll knew as well. But you mustn't let your private squabbles be hoisted upon the shoulders of others. And that such things are agents of chaos not just to yourselves. Don't forget that your bond is not just with each other. As I said before, we're all in this together."

Romulus and Remus both nodded vigorously, a joyful smile at play on their lips.

With his business concluded Tiberius lingered for a time, taking note of their higher spirits, before bidding them farewell.

o – o – o – o

With purposeful steps, the dragonoid strode along the magically illuminated corridor bridging the ninth and tenth floors. However, his destination did not lie on either level. Tiberius had only made it halfway through the passageway before coming to a halt. It was at this point that he approached the closest of the enchanted crystals, shining with a cool blue light.

Extending his arm, he took ahold of the crystal's sconce, and with the application of gentle pressure, it began to move.

The sconce rotated slowly to the left until it and the crystal it held were positioned horizontally. Next, the dragonoid's hand shifted, moving the crystal holder in the reverse until the crystal was now upside down. This was followed by another quarter turn to the right, followed by another longer rotation, then another, and another before the crystal sconce was returned to its upright position.

This sequence of movements was part of a combination that needed to be input correctly to proceed.

What followed was a series of clicks as the lock was disengaged and then the scraping of stones as a section of the wall began to move. The marble blocks of the corridor parted creating an opening to the passage that lay once hidden beyond.

The passage was crafted from a unique substance that gave the hall an interesting feature. The corridor was impossibly black, reflecting no light, not even the light from the corridor behind the dragonoid could be seen within. It was just a barren void.

Without hesitation, Tiberius stepped out into the darkness, feeling the solidness of the stone beneath his feet. He'd strode perhaps ten feet before the stones behind him began to move once more. Setting the section of the wall back into its proper place, sealing the passage.

Placing one foot in front of the other, the dragonoid moved through the void. The precise length of the hall was not something that he knew off the top of his head. But it was a journey that was made to seem all the longer by the featurelessness of the bleak corridor.

Eventually, a dull light could be seen in the distance that glowed brighter the closer he got. With only the soft rustle of his clothing and the clack of his taloned toes for company, Tiberius made his way toward the light.

Emerging from the darkness, the dragonoid stepped into the warm glow of light.

Within the radiance, a small circular chamber lay before him.

This round room was constructed with flawless white marble, featuring a domed ceiling adorned with the motif of a peaceful sky and winged angels. Standing at the center of the room was a square plinth, three feet tall and two feet wide, draped with a circular cut of red velvet. Positioned at the heart of the plinth was a silver pyramid, approximately a foot in height. Surrounding the pyramid on all four sides were numerous rings, each fashioned from different materials and styles, bearing distinct marks that set them apart from one another.

On the opposite end of the corridor's exit, or entrance depending on the observer's direction, a pair of tall doors stood, reaching a height of twelve feet. These doors were crafted from platinum-coloured metal, with bands of bronze riveted to their surface. The doors were flanked on either side by three nondescript humanoid statues, made of electrum, positioned as if they were examining something in their palms.

The concept behind this setup was straightforward: match the correct ring to the hand of the statue, and gain passage.

Yet, appearances could be deceiving.

This room was nothing but a façade. A false front, created as part of the multitude of layers of protection for the Treasury.

The dragonoid remained unmoving at the chamber's entrance for a moment. His flame-coloured eyes scanned the room before settling on a narrow gap at the base of the eastern wall. There hidden away within that opening, a tiny glimmer of something caught his eye. So small was the twinkle that unless one knew where to look would not be seen in the brightness of the room.

Pivoting, Tiberius made his way toward the gap in the wall before stooping down and retrieving the object from its hiding spot.

Holding it in his hand, he looked it over.

The item was a splinter taken from a mirror. It was some four inches wide, nine inches long, and shaped roughly like a lopsided trapezoid. Rather surprisingly the shard's edge was rounded and smooth.

This sliver of mirror was special for it was the key to reaching the true entrance to the Grand Treasure Vault.

As the dragonoid stared at the shard in his hand and when his eyes met those of the reflection, there was a brilliant flash of light as the magic contained within was activated. Although the light was intense, blindingly so, Tiberius felt no need to shield his eyes. Soon enough the intensity began to die down and return to normal levels.

A glance at his hand revealed that the shard, its purpose served, had vanished from his grasp. Lifting his gaze, Tiberius examined the room around him, finding it much the same, save for a few small differences.

In the heart of the room, the plinth still held the silver pyramid atop it, but the surrounding rings had vanished. Another notable change could be seen in the statues. Once mere basic mannequins without any distinguishing traits, they had now been replaced by sculptures crafted in the likeness of six of Tiberius' guildmates.

The first statue depicted Kawaiineet, a tall and imposing Minotaur donned in full-plate armour – an unusual choice for someone known for their gentle personality.

Next in line was a life-like replica of Socrates Architect, the Automaton already possessing a statuesque figure. This duplicate of the Automaton was dressed in a priestly set of robes. Somehow this set of robes didn't seem as dignified as his usual more scholarly wardrobe.

Standing third in line was the life-sized figurine of PreettyBird. The Birdfolk's colourful peacock plumage was mimicked in exquisite detail. As was the scantily clad female's choice of attire. Looking over the sculpture, Tiberius couldn't help but remember the rather salacious temperament that accompanied those skimpy clothes.

Then there was the aristocratic Half-Golem, Charming Rock. The body double stood with perfect posture and wore a crisp business suit. The suit was rather retro consisting of a pinstripe suit jacket complete with coattails, pleated trousers, and spats upon his dress shoes.

Second to the last was the tall and sinister-looking High Devil, Nephxikas. The monstrous appearance was greatly offset by the mismatched and goofy-looking attire.

Finally, there was the centaur, TwilightTingle. The statue of the half-human half-equine was garbed in a regal jacket with epaulets on the shoulders, a wide sash worn diagonally across the chest with military-style medals affixed, and a sheathed rapier at his side.

Seeing the likeness of these individuals, even if only in these statues, brought back a wave of pleasant memories to Tiberius. Yet he couldn't let the warmth of the moment lull him into complacency.

This room was still extremely dangerous.

In terms of protection, this room possessed a myriad of spells, including many whose primary effect was instant death. Tiberius could recall once being told that there was enough collective firepower in this room to wipe a full team of six level one hundred players. Possibly more.

So it was that the dragonoid couldn't relax until he had completed the test that awaited.

Turning he approached the silver pyramid on its pedestal. Standing before it, he removed the guild ring from his finger and held it above the pyramid. As if triggering some unseen mechanism, the top of the pyramid opened like a blooming flower. From the opening arose a metallic spike six inches long.

Gently he slid his guild ring down the length of the spike. A beam of golden light erupted from the pyramid as soon as the ring touched the base of the spike. The beam of illumination reached the ceiling above where it branched out like a fountain to rain down as little sparkles.

Then came the sound of grinding stone as the statues were activated, taking on a more relaxed stance. However, they were not truly coming to life as had happened to other NPCs. No, this was akin to the golems of the Grand Arena, following their predetermined and simplistic scripting.

If I had anything to say about this setup, it'd be that Aallonzusk certainly had a flair for theatrics.

Obeying their programming the statues held out their arms as if to offer something to the observing dragonoid. Above each of their upturned palms, an opaque menu screen as was so common in YGGDRASIL had appeared in the air. Scrawled across each of these virtual windows was a question and a selection of possible answers.

Stepping around the central pedestal and its pyramid centerpiece, Tiberius approached the statue ready to begin the test.

The first question to answer was that offered by Kawaiineet. Perhaps the easiest, it had to do with the first raid boss the Sanguine Dragons had conquered. While the query posed by Socrates Architect was equally on par, was with regard to the guild's unofficial credo. Then there was PreettyBird, her question was maybe the most abstract of those present.

"What is my favorite food?" Tiberius shook his head as he read off the text, "Could she really not come up with a better question than that?"

The effigy of Charming Rock offered not a query with words. Instead, it used numbers. This particular problem took the dragonoid a fair of time to decipher. However, in the end, he managed to input the correct answer accompanied by a string of expletives. When the answer had been accepted, Tiberius made a mental note to see if his administrative abilities as Guild Master would let him make a few changes.

The next three again had to deal with guild history.

Who had been the Sanguine Dragons' biggest rivals? What was the guild's biggest loss? As well as what had been the second most popular name for the guild.

Even now as he looked back on the memory of that meeting he couldn't believe they had nearly ended up calling themselves, Super Mighty Stunning Heroes. That was a name more befitting some kind of children's show than a guild in a High-Fantasy-style game like YGGDRASIL.

With the test complete and answered correctly, the statues crossed their arms and returned to their previous lifeless state of being.

There was the tale-tell series of clicks and the sound of sliding metal. Then the pair of doors that stood between the sculptures swung open. The entrance opened, and a fairly narrow staircase that descended and stretched out for some two dozen or so feet came into view.

Turning back, Tiberius retrieved his guild ring from the pedestal before striding down the stairwell and into a short hallway. At the end of the hallway, a large flat landing was illuminated by the light of the brazers that line its edge.

As he stepped onto the landing, the golden-scaled dragonoid beheld the contents of the treasury – a sight he hadn't laid eyes on in a long while.

It was the Grand Treasure Vault of Týrnaust.

The Grand Treasure Vault of Týrnaust was one of the three largest levels within the mountain, boasting the same massive dimensions as the Ninth Floor. The chamber's high ceiling was upheld by colossal columns, strategically placed at equal intervals throughout the space.

Even if the room were devoid of treasure, these grand pillars would still have held their rightful place, for each side of the pillars was a masterpiece in itself. Carved to resemble beautiful women in skimpy gowns, their arms held aloft, as if supporting the weight of the imposing roof.

However, as awe-inspiring as the statuesque beauty was, it paled in comparison to the immense treasure that sprawled across the floor.

The Grand Treasure Vault of Týrnaust resembled a veritable mountain range, with immense mounds of YGGDRASIL gold coins spread across the vast space. The piles varied in size, ranging from small heaps no larger than a child to towering mounds that stretched hundreds of feet into the air. Some piles were so tall that they nearly obscured the colossal columns beneath their weight, and one would need to hunch over when standing atop them to avoid hitting the stone ceiling.

Yet, the true value of this treasure trove extended far beyond mere coinage.

Amidst the shimmering gold, countless precious gems adorned the piles. Rubies, diamonds, emeralds, opals, sapphires, garnets, moonstones, and an array of other gems sparkled like stars against the golden backdrop. The wealth was further enhanced by an assortment of other valuable objects. Blocks of various metals used in crafting sat alongside more common items like hides and bones. Works of art, including paintings and sculptures, adorned the landscape. Bookshelves filled with scrolls and books dotted the valleys, while crystal chalices overflowed with trinkets. Even clothing and armour could be found scattered throughout the vast treasure hoard.

Amidst the sea of gold, a nearly toppled statue caught the eye. The statue was adorned in a fine jacket of red cloth with blue piping, wearing a silver crown on its head and twinkling rings on its fingers. As if reaching out for help, a shining gauntlet extended from a small mound of gold coins near the vault's entrance. The sight gave the impression that the wearer had been buried beneath an avalanche of treasure.

Within the Grand Treasure Vault lay a staggering collection of valuable items, the result of twelve years of adventuring by the Sanguine Dragons in YGGDRASIL. Over time, their treasure hoards had grown substantially, especially when they decided to raid abandoned guild bases and claim their stockpiles as their own.

The rapid accumulation of riches led to the current chaotic state of the vault, making Yuliana's task of auditing the treasure more challenging. With the impending end of YGGDRASIL, organization seemed pointless, and so everything was simply dumped into the vault without much consideration for order.

The dragonoid couldn't help but find irony in the situation now.

How different things had turned out from what he expected when he logged in on that last day. The shutdown of the game had led to unforeseen consequences and a vault filled with the legacy of their adventures.

As Tiberius stood on the platform, his red-yellow eyes surveyed the landscape before him.

Drawing a breath, he called out, "Yuvonkiir!"

The dragonoid's deep voice resonated through the vast emptiness of the chamber, filling the air with its powerful rumble. The echo of his call bounced back multiple times, creating a symphony of reverberations that gradually faded away. Eventually, the profound silence returned, reigning uncontested in the gargantuan space.

Tiberius waited for a few moments, contemplating whether he should call out once more. However, that thought quickly vanished when he heard the unmistakable jingling of metal pieces, like the sound of innumerable tiny bells. It was the symphony of countless coins cascading down the golden mountains, creating copious avalanches of wealth.

Emerging from beneath the treasure, the colossal reptilian head of the Vault Guardian, Yuvonkiir, came into view. As the blanket of coins fell away, more and more of the majestic dragon was revealed.

Yuvonkiir was nothing short of breathtaking. Stretching for more than a hundred feet from the tip of his snout to the end of his tail, he commanded the room with his sheer size and presence. His crocodilian-like scales were a mix of scarlet blood and fiery orange hues as if draped in the very essence of flame. The colours darkened to an almost char black upon his back. Yet, hints of the brighter colour could still be seen – creating an impression of smoldering embers nestled among the charred remains.

Gaze upon the Guardian's head, and you'll find yourself transported back to a far-flung era. Resembling that of a prehistoric dinosaur, it bore a striking likeness to the legendary Tyrannosaurus Rex, the King of the Dinosaurs. Running along the lower jaw are a row of fearsome, spike-like projections with the rear ones standing out as the largest, adding to his formidable visage, and evoking a sense of primal ferocity.

Above his piercing eyes, a cascade of overlapping ridged osteoderms swept back, creating a mesmerizing pattern along his brow. These extended towards and along the length of a pair of dark obsidian horns, giving them a striking layered texture.

The grandeur continues at the back of Yuvonkiir's head, where a magnificent crest of rearward-facing spines connected through a leathery membrane, akin to the structure of its wings. Between the spines, the webbing dipped and rose, giving the sail-like crest on his back a mesmerizing saw blade-like quality.

Yuvonkiir's eyes mirrored his creator's own fierce and fiery gaze – a mix of red, orange, and yellow hues. Irises sparkle like pools of molten gold, enchanting anyone who dares to meet their gaze.

As Yuvonkiir's immense eyes fluttered open, he dispelled the remnants of sleep with a series of long, slow blinks. Twin tails of steam, or perhaps smoke, gently billowed from the dragon's shield-shaped nostrils as he exhaled. When his golden eyes beheld his master's visage, they widened with delight.

The dragon gradually rose to his full height, standing tall on his four robust limbs, each thicker than a burly tree trunk.

Stray trinkets fell away from Yuvonkiir's scaled body as he rose while others managed to cling. Among them, a dazzling jeweled necklace dangled loosely from one of his spines. With a sudden shake, akin to a dog ridding itself of water, the necklace soared through the air, eventually finding its place amidst the vast treasure trove.

The crimson-scaled Vault Guardian extended his forelimbs and flexed his five-toed feet, following the same routine with his rear legs. From his shoulders, an immense pair of wings trembled and adjusted before settling back into a resting position. Had he fully spread these wings, they could have easily matched the length of a dragon, perhaps even surpassing it.

Descending from his chosen napping spot, the massive dragon moved with a surprising level of fluid, almost catlike grace. A remarkable display of agility for a creature of Yuvonkiir's immense size.

As Tiberius stood, watching Yuvonkiir's majestic approach, an undeniable twinge of fear crept into the back of his mind. The enormity of the dragon, a creature that could easily swallow him whole, was awe-inspiring and terrifying all at once. This was the only natural response to the presence of such a formidable being, and the dragonoid couldn't shake the sense of trepidation that engulfed him.

However, it was more than just fear that gripped the dragonoid; uncertainty loomed large. Yuvonkiir was no longer just an AI-driven virtual entity within a game. He was a living, breathing creature, with the freedom to make his own choices, just like any resident of Týrnaust. This unpredictability made Tiberius unsure of how the dragon would react to his presence.

Yet, despite the unknowns, Tiberius managed to steel himself against his fears. He refused to let his anxiety rule over him, at least until he could gauge Yuvonkiir's disposition.

As the enormous dragon drew closer, Tiberius braced himself, hoping that his presence wouldn't lead to any unpleasant surprises – like being mistaken for a snack.

Yuvonkiir's immense form undulated gracefully through the golden expanse, navigating between the towering piles of wealth. With each calculated movement, he closed the distance, his eyes never straying from Tiberius. As he neared, the ground shook slightly under the weight of the colossal dragon.

Finally, Yuvonkiir came to rest atop a majestic mound of treasure at the far end of the entrance overlook. His head was now level with the landing, and the dragonoid could feel the intensity of the dragon's golden gaze fixed on him. The moment hung in the air, charged with uncertainty, as the two beings sized each other up. Tiberius remained still, knowing better than to make any sudden movements that might provoke the mighty Guardian. He could only wonder what thoughts were swirling behind those enigmatic eyes.

The Vault Guardian stared at him for a time before rumble was ushered forth from the dragon's throat as his jaws parted.

"Creator," the deep bass of Yuvonkiir's voice rattled the dragonoid's core.

Craning his neck forward, he brought his mammoth head down to rest his chin upon the cool grey marble. Then in an almost puppy-like fashion, Yuvonkiir edged his snout in closer and ever so carefully nudged against Tiberius' hand.

"It has been some time since you last visited this domain, my creator."

Lifting his hand, Tiberius allowed his palm to rest upon the dragon's smooth scales, feeling a surprising amount of warmth beneath his touch.

"I am sorry, Yuvonkiir."

"There is no need to apologize, my creator, I understand. You are the leader of the Supreme Beings. There are matters that require your attention far more than mere visitations." Yuvonkiir spoke with an almost purr-like quality to his deep voice.

Looking at the great reptile before him, Tiberius couldn't keep the memories of his creation at bay.

It had been an arduous series of tasks that had been required to get a dragon NPC for the guild. It seemed that YGGDRASIL's developers just couldn't make it easy lest every guild would have a dragon protector.

Before even starting there were a number of requirements that had to be met. Chiefly amongst these was that a guild base had to be a dungeon of Castle-Tier or higher. Then the guild must have a sufficient stockpile of gold to match.

For the Sanguine Dragons, neither of these was met until the guild had conquered the place that would become their home. So it was with the Pinnacle of Týrnaust in their possession two things came to be. The first was that the option for a dragon NPC had become available, and the second was a special perk was given to the guild master which allowed dragon eggs to be harvested as something other than just rare materials for crafting.

So now came the long slow grind of farming legendary-level dragons until dropped an egg. Unfortunately, this had an exceedingly low drop rate at the best of times.

Countless hours were spent slaying dragon after dragon until an egg was finally attained. But it didn't end there, now came a whole new set of tasks that needed doing.

An egg has to be incubated to hatch after all. But a dragon's egg could only be incubated within a select number of locations throughout YGGDRASIL. Once one of these spots was chosen the egg would remain there until it hatched. During the incubation there remained the possibility of losing the egg to another player, whom many would steal the egg for the variety of uses it possessed. The egg could be equally lost to the random monsters that spawned at those locales who would destroy the egg.

So to ensure the egg's safety, Tiberius enlisted the aid of his fellow Sanguine Dragons to watch over the egg.

It had taken nearly two months of continual careful babysitting the egg finally hatched. The new hatchling was quickly brought back to Týrnaust for the next part.

During the interval, guild member PR0PH3CY5H4X0R performed a fair amount of research into the subject. She spent numerous hours scrounging through various message boards, working to decipher fact from fiction, for there were many rumours circulated to fool the less informed. It was then that PR0PH3CY5H4X0R uncovered information pertaining to increasing stats of the adult dragon. To achieve this the hatchling dragon would have to be fed a specific meal at each point of its developmental stages.

However, each of these special meals had to be made from flesh harvested from particularly rare creatures. Nine beasts in total, one creature from each of YGGDRASIL's nine worlds.

From the birth of the dragon hatchling to the time he had reached adulthood, the better portion of a year had been done with. But the end result was the strongest NPC in all of Týrnaust and the creature whose scaled flesh Tiberius felt against his palm.

It was an endeavour that was completely worth it.

Lifting his gaze from the dragon before him, Tiberius looked out toward the center of the treasury. It was there at the epicenter of the expansive treasure hoard that lay the inner vault.

Secured within this inner vault were the Sanguine Dragons' more precious items.

These items ranged from divine-class equipment to the guild's extensive supply of data crystals and everything in between. Unsurprisingly a number of the objects placed within the inner vault were not there for their monetary value, but instead, it was for the sentimental value they held for the owners.

Yet even now as he stood gazing at the vastness of the guild's accumulated loot, the dragonoid was still unsure if he'd actually be able to find anything that could fulfill the role he had in mind. But he had to check.

"So what is it that brings you here, my lord creator?"

The dragonoid paused before answering.

It hadn't occurred to Tiberius until now, but Yuvonkiir lived here within the treasury and as such probably didn't get many visitors. So while the other NPCs were privy to the latest news as it circulated through their ranks. The dragon had no visitors with which to share the information.

"Yuvonkiir, are you aware of the events that have recently transpired?"

"I was visited by the little bard who brought me news of what changes had happened beyond these walls. But that was some time ago I feel."

Tiberius nodded, "Recently, the Guardian Overseer and I departed from Týrnaust and got ourselves embroiled in a situation that required my attention. And while at the time I had thought it concluded, there were…" the dragonoid sighed, "Let's just say lingering issues. So it is that I came here looking for something that could help. Perhaps something from the inner vault will provide what I seek."

Yuvonkiir pulled back from the gentle ministrations of his creator's hand and drew himself up to his proper height. Shifting the dragon craned his neck, following his master's line of sight to gaze deeper into the level.

"Creator, I cannot allow you to travel that distance on foot. If you would permit me, please allow me to carry you."

The Guardian's proposal came as rather unexpected to the dragonoid. He had expected the dragon to point him in the right direction, or maybe make an offer to act as an escort. But certainly to hear an offer to be carried.

"Uhh… I don't have any objections. Though what of your crest?"

The corners of Yuvonkiir's mouth curved into a toothy grin, revealing his formidable teeth. With a majestic turn of his massive body, the dragon proudly displayed his saw blade-like sail. The spines that adorned it were then gracefully lowered, lying flat against his back. It was as if the great Guardian was extending an invitation to his master, showing that the crest would not be an obstacle to ride upon.

With graceful precision, Yuvonkiir shifted his mighty frame, lowering his neck and resting his shoulder against the landing's edge. The gesture was unmistakable, an invitation for Tiberius to climb aboard. the dragon's gesture, Tiberius approached, his steps reflecting a cautious awareness of the creature's size and sensitivity. Slowly, he extended his leg and placed his foot on the dragon's scaled flesh, cautiously testing his weight on Yuvonkiir's strong shoulder, before gingerly placing the other foot beside the first. With a deep breath, he confidently ascended, taking a seat at the base of the Guardian's neck.

Perched on Yuvonkiir's formidable form, Tiberius felt a sense of exhilaration. The connection between them seemed to grow stronger with each passing moment. The dragon's warm scales beneath him provided both comfort and assurance.

As Tiberius settled into his place on Yuvonkiir's broad neck, the dragon remained still for a moment, as if savouring the newfound connection with his master. Then, with a subtle shift of his massive body, Yuvonkiir began to move. The ground trembled beneath their feet as they ventured deeper into the treasure-filled chamber.

With each step, the dragon's pace was deliberate and measured, as if he knew the value of every piece of gold and gem that surrounded them. The glimmering wealth stretched far and wide, casting an enchanting glow that danced across Yuvonkiir's crimson scales.

Amidst the grandeur of the treasure-filled chamber, every step Yuvonkiir took sent a symphony of jingling and rattling echoing through the vault. It was as if the very wealth beneath their feet chimed in awe of the dragon's presence. Occasionally, a delightful cascade of gold and gems would tumble from the mounds, creating a dazzling spectacle before settling into shimmering heaps.

Despite the colossal size of the treasure piles, Yuvonkiir's steps were surprisingly light and surefooted. With each stride, he effortlessly navigated the uneven terrain, making their progress through the mountains of riches seem almost like a leisurely stroll.

In the brief span of their journey, Tiberius discovered the exhilaration of a lifetime – a splendid personalized tour from the back of a dragon! The sheer thrill of being in the presence of such a magnificent creature left him utterly enchanted, and every moment was a delightful adventure he couldn't get enough of.

Positioned in a triangular pattern atop a raised platform, a trio of unadorned square columns dominated the center of the room. At first glance, they seemed quite ordinary, but a closer look revealed their remarkable feature – the pillars were hollow! Each tower concealed a secret chamber within, serving as a storage space for various categories of valuable items.

In the heart of the vault, the northern pillar stood tall, its purpose evident from the moment one laid eyes on it: to house the guild's vast collection of data crystals. From floor to ceiling, the column was filled with shelf upon shelf.

In the eastern storage tower, diversity reigned supreme, for it had no singular theme or purpose. Instead, this column embraced an eclectic collection of items, serving as a sanctuary for anything that held value to the esteemed members of the Sanguine Dragons. Here, treasures of all kinds found their place of safekeeping, from ancient artifacts steeped in history to personal mementos that whispered stories of cherished memories. The tower stood as a testament to the individuality and uniqueness of each member, reflecting the richness and depth of their lives and passions. Within its embrace, the eastern storage tower became a treasure trove of the heart, where the soulful essence of the guild's members found sanctuary.

Among the treasures sheltered within the tower's walls, Tiberius had contributed a fair share of his own pieces.

The final pillar had a distinct purpose: it stood as the guild's formidable armoury. Within its confines rested an impressive collection of the finest equipment owned by the Sanguine Dragons, items not currently in use by its members.

But the true heart of this tower lay at its apex, where the most potent treasures were safeguarded – World Class Items.

Within the vast virtual realm of YGGDRASIL, World Class Items stood unparalleled in might and prestige. Coveted by players above all else, these objects held unparalleled power, making them the ultimate prize for any adventurer. The possession of even a single World Class Item instantly elevated a player's reputation to the highest echelons, becoming a symbol of unparalleled prowess and achievement in the game's universe. Those fortunate enough to wield these legendary artifacts were revered as virtual legends, and tales of their exploits echoed through the gaming community, inspiring awe and admiration in all who heard them.

But the developers of YGGDRASIL had carefully crafted only two hundred of these World Class Items, dispersing them across the Nine Realms. Each item contained an incredible power, and their appearances were as diverse as their abilities. Among this elite group, a select few reigned supreme, known as the "One of Twenty."

These extraordinary artifacts bordered on being game-breaking due to their sheer potency. Their overwhelming capabilities were only balanced by their rarity, making them exceptionally hard to obtain. Additionally, the One of Twenty items could only be used once, and if players needed their formidable power again, they had to embark on a quest to find them anew. Despite the potential for imbalance, players begrudgingly accepted their existence due to the thrill of hunting for such rare treasures and the extraordinary challenge in harnessing their might. The One of Twenty items became legendary, inspiring players to embark on epic quests and pushing the boundaries of what was possible within the world of YGGDRASIL.

Over the twelve years of YGGDRASIL's existence, very few guilds managed to obtain even a single World Item. Among those rare few, only a handful had been fortunate enough to acquire more than one

In this regard, the Sanguine Dragons stood out as truly blessed when they stumbled upon their first World Item. Their fortune continued to shine during their final months, as they raided abandoned guild bases and expanded their collection of these prestigious relics. By the time the game's servers were destined to shut down, the guild had proudly amassed a total of seven of these extraordinary artifacts. Their reputation as collectors of such rare and powerful items had become legendary, a testament to their exceptional skill and tenacity within the world of YGGDRASIL.

Achieving such an extraordinary feat would undoubtedly have earned the Sanguine Dragons both respect and envy from numerous other guilds. Players across YGGDRASIL would speak of them with the same levels of esteem and admiration reserved for renowned guilds like Seraphim, Millennium Kingdom, World Searcher, and others.

Perhaps even the legendary guild, Ainz Ooal Gown.

Ainz Ooal Gown, infamous within the realm of YGGDRASIL, possessed a reputation that had taken on an almost mythical quality. Though they didn't secure the number one rank in the game, their consistent placement in the top ten made them a force to be reckoned with.

Throughout their existence, Ainz Ooal Gown had set numerous precedents that other guilds could only dream of achieving. They were known for remarkable accomplishments like uncovering one of the elusive Seven Hidden Mines and bravely repelling a massive attack on their guild base by eight rival guilds, boasting a 1,500-strong force of guild members, mercenary players, and mercenary NPCs.

Yet, perhaps the most awe-inspiring achievement was the record they set for collecting an astonishing eleven World Items – a feat that stood unparalleled. With such astounding accomplishments, the name of Ainz Ooal Gown had become synonymous with greatness in the gaming world, and any guild mentioned in the same breath as them could only feel an overwhelming sense of honour and respect.

Regrettably, the impending doom of YGGDRASIL's closure cast a somber cloud over any remaining glories. As the game's end drew near, the grand achievements of guilds lost their luster, and few players cared for such accomplishments anymore.

Amidst this atmosphere, when a middling guild stumbled upon the feat of amassing seven World Items purely by chance, it went largely unnoticed. In times past, such an extraordinary accomplishment would have sparked awe and admiration, but with the imminent demise of the virtual world, the significance of their achievement faded into obscurity, overshadowed by the weight of the impending end.

Descending the mountain of treasure, the dragon and his passenger approached the inner vault. With a single step, Yuvonkiir ascended the short staircase and set foot on the platform before striding forward. In only a matter of short strides, the Guardian came to a halt when he stood at the center of the triangular formation of columns.

Slowly, Yuvonkiir lowered his massive form gently settling until the cool touch of grey stone met the expanse of his belly. Adjusting his position, the dragon leaned slightly, creating a safe and easy platform for his rider to dismount. The bond between dragon and rider was evident in this simple act, showcasing the trust and camaraderie that existed between the two.

"Thank you, Yuvonkiir."

The Guardian bowed his head, "It is my pleasure to aid my creator."

Tiberius nodded before turning away and making his way to the western column.

As he approached the entrance, a simple silver gate loomed before him, the final barrier to those seeking entry. Beyond this point, there were no more tricks, traps, or locks. The path was laid bare for anyone who could overcome the challenges and reach this far. In the guild's view, reaching the inner vault after besting the Vault Guardian was a feat worthy of admiration and respect. Those who accomplished such a feat were deemed deserving of whatever riches and rewards they could claim within. The guild held the belief that true valour and skill should be rewarded.

Taking ahold of the golden handle in his scaled hand and with a quick twist, the gates parted and he entered the armoury.

Inside the tower, multiple floors were organized around a wide, spiraling ramp at its center. The four walls were brimming with rows of cluttered shelves, interrupted by packed alcoves. Every inch of available floor space was utilized, showcasing numerous display cases, mannequins, chests, and free-standing racks. The interior of the tower was a riveting display of treasures, artifacts, and equipment, a testament to the guild's expertise in gathering and preserving their valuable collection.

Moving through the exhibitions, Tiberius' eyes flowed over the variety of items on display.

A short distance away, a striking suit of armour adorned a dummy. Its golden-hued metal plates possessed an exotic allure, boasting smooth, flowing lines and intricate ornamental scrollwork. The chest plate, a canvas of artistry, depicted a stylized battle scene etched into its surface. Even to the untrained eye, it was evident that this stunning success was the creation of a master craftsman, showcasing their unparalleled skill and dedication to their craft.

Nearby, another set of armour caught the eye, noticeably larger than anything a normal human could don. It lay gracefully on a skeletal rack, carefully positioned to showcase its majestic grandeur. The icy-white metal carapace emitted a chilling vapour, leaving frost and ice in its wake as the mist touched the floor. Though its durable plates conveyed a sense of weightiness, the intriguing design incorporated insect-like legs and an astonishing four sets of arms on its torso, granting it a total of eight limbs.

Not to be overshadowed by the massive suit of armour, an exquisite set of elven robes awaited further in. Poised to be worn like a stylish business suit. Woven from the rarest drider silks, the threads possessed a mesmerizing brilliance that appeared to shift in colour with each change of the viewer's angle. Hidden beneath the flowing outer robe, an enchanted chainmail undershirt sparkled like the night sky filled with dazzling diamonds. Undeniably, this outfit was tailored for a sorcerer and undoubtedly offered a plethora of stat-enhancing buffs for its fortunate wearer.

The armoury was also a treasure trove of diverse weaponry, each piece carefully showcased against plush velvet backings. Hand axes, daggers, maces, and morning stars occupied their designated cutouts, while war hammers, both simple and lavishly adorned, stood proudly nearby. A collection of swords adorned the adjacent wall, presenting a vast array of styles, from the elegantly curved scimitars to the refined katanas, the versatile double-edged arming swords, and the imposingly long straight blades of bastard swords. Enormous two-handed warswords and greatswords found their place alongside esoteric double-bladed sword staffs.

The array of battle axes, some dual-edged and others single-edged, were neatly arranged in alcoves, analogous to shirts in a closet, awaiting the skilled hands of their wielders. Crystal-tipped spears and adamantine halberds rested in racks, poised for action. Even ranged weapons were not amiss in this astonishing display, featuring rapid-fire crossbows, lightweight hunting bows, and formidable war bows, each crafted from an array of formidable materials.

Ascending the spiraled ramp, Tiberius moved to the second level of the tower.

On the second level, the scene remained familiar, with an array of displays showcasing a diverse selection of goods. Though many items were unfamiliar to him, there were a few that caught his eye, recognizing them from his past adventures.

captivating sight awaited beneath a spotlight – an impressive set of electrum-coloured gauntlets, belonging to none other than Gemcrawler, rested atop an onyx pedestal. The dark surface of the pedestal seemed to intensify the brilliance of the gauntlets, accentuating their lustrous appearance. As Tiberius drew nearer, his attention was drawn by the exquisite jewels adorning each of the five finger joints.

The jewels held a significant role in the guild's history, closely tied to Gemcrawler's passion and creativity. Originally, they were his personal projects, crafted with potent elemental magics. Initially, they were intended to be a one-of-a-kind creation, but their allure was undeniable, inspiring the design of the gemstones that would later embellish the Sanguine Dragon's revered guild weapon, the Staff of the Five-headed Dragon. The legacy of these magical jewels endured, leaving an indelible mark on the guild's story and the creation of their iconic weapon.

"I guess that would make these prototypes then," Tiberius mused.

Continuing further, an imposing and formidable helmet caught his attention. Its design featured long, vertical spike-like ears, and only the upper portion of the face was covered. The sight was reminiscent of something straight out of a children's action show.

Within a glass display case, an intriguing sight awaited – a large dagger that seemed more akin to a short sword due to its size. The handle was skillfully crafted from bone, particularly vertebrae, and a unique crossguard caught the eye, seemingly fashioned from the two halves of some fearsome beast's lower jaw. The still-present teeth projected menacingly along the lower blade.

As for the dagger's blade – it was carved from a captivating crimson crystal. Its edge was jagged and cruel-looking. This was in part owed to the manner of its shaping. Having been honed through the flint-knapping process – it gave the blade an ancient handmade quality. Like the Stone Age knives, spear tips, and arrowheads that primitive humans had created so very long ago. On the blade's jagged and thin edge, a viscous green liquid appeared to be smeared. From time to time, a small droplet of the mysterious fluid would form and fall from the dagger. Landing on the bottom of the display case it would sizzle, boiling away before dissipating into a wisp of acrid smoke.

This little beauty was a favourite of Crocodino, he spent quite a lot of gold acquiring this from the auction house. At the time he was slightly underpowered but this dagger really gave him the boost to power level.

The dragonoid's flame-coloured eyes fixated on the weapon, triggering Tiberius's recollection of his previous contemplations regarding providing gear to the people of Carne. This, in turn, piqued his curiosity about the gear restrictions that had influenced his decision-making process.

With utmost care, he extended his taloned fingertips and skillfully inserted them into the small indentation situated in the corner of the crystal panel. With a gentle, deliberate motion, he slid the glass aside, revealing the bone-gripped dagger contained within. Tiberius reached out, wrapping his hand around the handle, and a sense of anticipation surged through him as he held the unique weapon in his grasp.

Retrieving the dagger from its setting, he looked it over in his hand, feeling the heft of the weapon. The weight was nicely balanced between the blade and the handle but other than that he didn't feel anything out of the ordinary.

Pulling his arm back with the dagger in hand, Tiberius swung the blade. He had expected nothing to come of it. However, as the blade reached the apex of the swing the dagger slipped from his grasp to tumble through the air and land with a loud rattling clatter on the stone floor.

Tiberius cocked his head as he stared at his hand and the dagger on the floor.

Bending down, he again took hold of the handle and plucked the weapon from the ground. He turned the dagger over in his hand, searching for any indication of what had caused this. But he found nothing.

"Maybe my hand slipped?"

With this question digging into his mind, Tiberius drew back his arm. This time he aimed to perform a thrust, just in case maybe it was the momentum that caused the dagger to fall from his hand. Then much to his puzzlement, the event repeated itself as his hand began the thrust the dagger once more fell from his hand. This time the dagger skidded across the floor before coming to rest beneath a nearby rack.

The dragonoid could only stare at his hand in response to this. As if to test his hand, he turned his hand over several times and flexed his fingers each time.

"My hand doesn't feel any different," he mused, "So what's going on?"

Lowering himself to hands and knees, Tiberius extended his arm, reaching beneath the rack he grasped around blindly for it. Finally, he felt his fingertips brush against the segmented bones of the hilt. Closing his fist about, he pulled the wayward weapon from its hiding spot. In his kneeling position, turned his eye to the weapon in hand.

"[Appraisal Magic Item]."

There was a brief glow as the spell was activated. In an instant, the dragonoid's mind was filled with information pertaining to the weapon in hand. Rising from the ground, a smirk teased at Tiberius' lips.

"I see. So, YGGDRASIL's gear restrictions are still in effect after all," he chuckled, "Makes sense then that I wouldn't be able to use an assassin's dagger."

With a sigh, he turned and made his way back to the opened display case. Gently he placed the dagger back on its stand within the case before sliding the glass panel into place. Turning away, Tiberius surveyed his surroundings.

"But that means that pretty much everything here would be useless for what I need." Again, he sighed, "I guess I should still do a look-through anyway. Who knows, maybe I'll be lucky and find something."

So he continued, moving through the floor before traversing up the ramp and moving onto the next floor. Strolling through aisle after aisle, occasionally he would pause and his gaze lingering on some piece within the vast collection. Whether it was from nostalgic memory or curiosity, it couldn't be helped when something caught his eye.

From one level to the next, Tiberius strode as he continued his survey, appraising each item in passing. Always his mind sorting through the various possibilities that each might present.

Unfortunately, as he had predicted, none of the equipment sorted within the tower fell within the parameters he'd set forth for his needs. So it was only halfway up the tower the dragonoid decided to bring an end to his search. After all his examinations, it had become rather apparent that continuing would be a fruitless venture. Giving up, Tiberius turned around and strode back the way he'd come.

Exiting the armoury tower, he pulled the gate shut behind him, his eyes falling onto the waiting Vault Guardian.

At his master's approach, the dragon rose to sit upon his haunches. Inclining his head, Yuvonkiir stared down at the dragonoid, those pools of molten gold followed his every move.

"You are troubled, my creator," the Guardian rumbled.

Lifting his head, Tiberius gazed up at the immense dragon looming over him.

"Is it that obvious?"

Yuvonkiir nodded.

Tiberius gave a rueful chuckle, "I guess I am, as it seems all I have managed to accomplish was wasting my time and yours with this endeavour."

The colossal Guardian leaned forward, lowering his head and bringing his snout in close to his concerned master. From his nostrils, a puff of hot air washed over the dragonoid.

"Then tell, creator. Tell me what it is that you need so that I may be of service."

"Very well, I came here seeking to find an item that could be used in the protection of others. An item that could be used by even the lowest leveled individuals. But alas, I have not been able to find such an item."

The dragon sat motionless, his eyes closed, his breathing the only sign of life. Tiberius felt the urge to ask what the dragon was doing but held back, choosing to observe and wait. In the stillness, a peculiar hum seemed to envelop the air around them, adding to the mystique.

After what seemed like an eternity, Yuvonkiir's eyes slowly opened, revealing his gleaming golden orbs once more. With a graceful movement, he stepped back, rising from his position, and turned away from his master.

"Yuvonkiir, where are you going?"

The Guardian hesitated, craning his neck as he gazed back at his creator.

"Forgive me, but I may know of something that may be what you seek."

Before Tiberius could respond, the colossal winged reptile pivoted without a word, its massive form beginning its journey back. The dragon left the landing of the inner vault, the very ground trembling beneath his weight, causing the treasure to jingle and rattle in response. With each step he took, coins cascaded, tumbling down the golden mounds in a delightful symphony of wealth.

Up and up he ascended, scaling the towering peak of the treasure mountain until he finally reached its apex. Then, with a graceful flick of his tail, the dragon disappeared from view, leaving behind an awe-inspiring scene of shimmering riches and an air of wonderment. The dragon's departure marked the end of a captivating encounter, but it also left Tiberius with countless questions, pondering the mysteries of the dragon and the vast, treasure-filled vault he guarded.

Having no other tasks to occupy him, Tiberius lingered at the heart of the quaint plaza, his anticipation building as he patiently awaited what was to come.

Time seemed to stretch as the dragonoid waited, unsure of how long the Guardian had been away. Then, once more, the familiar jingle of coins and the rhythmic rumble of the dragon's footsteps announced Yuvonkiir's return. With the same elegance and grace as before, the majestic dragon lifted himself above the vast sea of gold and began his descent back to Tiberius's side.

Setting foot on the landing, Yuvonkiir approached the waiting dragonoid.

Coming to a stop a dozen yards away, the Guardian's actions caught Tiberius' attention. A glint in the corner of the dragon's jaw intrigued him. With a slow and deliberate motion, Yuvonkiir lowered his majestic neck toward the stone floor. His jaws parted, and he carefully placed something on the ground before his master. The air was thick with curiosity and anticipation as the dragonoid wondered what gift or discovery lay at his feet.

As the dragon pulled away, Tiberius' eyes fell upon the object Yuvonkiir had brought him.

It was a small, plainly crafted statuette, standing at about a foot in height, fashioned from polished silver. The figurine depicted an armoured knight, standing proudly at attention, with gauntlet-clad hands resting atop a kite shield placed in front of it. The intricate details of the figurine captured the knight's noble and resolute stance, evoking a sense of honour and valour.

Shifting his attention from the statue, Tiberius looked up at the towering dragon with interest.

"What is this?"

"I believe I have found the answer to your dilemma, my creator. This item should fulfill your requirements."

"Is that so?"

The dragonoid turned back to the statuette that stood at his feet. Raising his arm, Tiberius held his palm out toward the small figurine.

"[Appraisal Magic Item]."

Just like before, the spell activated and delivered to its caster all information relevant to the statue.

Huh, so it's enchanted with the [Shield Wall] spell. Though it can only be cast once per day. Still, that should be more than enough to protect the girl and her family.

Looking at the crimson-scaled dragon cocked his head, "Have I done well, creator?"

"Oh yes, Yuvonkiir," a toothy smile crested Tiberius' draconic visage as he gazed up at the Guardian, "Indeed, you have, this statue very well might do the job quite nicely."

As with any effort, the moment of success was a fleeting one. So it was, Tiberius' thoughts turned to the human family and how he'd solved the problem. A new one crept into his mind, once that should've been so obvious before.

Wait… this statue is only good if they have it with them. But I can't expect them to carry it with them all the time. I mean it's made of mithril so it's lightweight, but it still has a considerable weight. Unfortunately, they don't have the luck of having a YGGDRASIL pocket dimension for inventory storage. Besides, even if they did carry it around with them everywhere, it'll only work if the whole family is together.

What if someone goes off into the forest to hunt? Or what if they have to travel to another village or something?

Bending down, Tiberius retrieved the statute from the cool stone. With it in hand, his forearm vanished from sight, disappearing into his inventory space. There he deposited the figurine and with the knowledge gained from the appraisal spell, it was quickly sorted into its proper category.

Withdrawing his arm, Tiberius addressed the seated dragon.

"Yuvonkiir, if I may trouble you again."

The great reptile nodded in understanding of his master's request. Without a word, he lowered himself once more to the granite floor, placing his body into a position that would allow the dragonoid to retake his place upon the dragon's back. Once his master had taken a seat near his shoulders, Yuvonkiir rose and started to stride toward the treasury's entrance.

During the journey to the inner vault, Tiberius had allowed himself to more or less relax and enjoy the ride. This time, however, as he rode on the Vault Guardian's back, his mind was preoccupied. Turmoil brewed within the dragonoid as he wondered how he might solve this latest quandary.

I guess this means I'll have to find something else to take of them. Maybe I could get some enchanted rings or something. No, that wouldn't work, they could lose them. He groaned, What they need is a bodyguard.

The dragonoid's eyes widened with surprise at the idea.

Yes, that's it! That is just what they need. But what? Golems? No, they won't work. They're not exactly the stealthiest of things and they don't exactly excel in the area of free thinking. So what then?

A number of possible candidates came to his mind that could serve the role. Though, as he went through the rather extensive list in his head, he kept circling back to one type of mercenary NPC in particular. NPCs that he had made frequent use of during his time in YGGDRASIL.

Yes, those would do quite nicely.

No sooner had Tiberius reached his conclusion and pulled himself from his thoughts than he realized that his ride had come to its conclusion.

Arriving at the entrance landing, Yuvonkiir retook his place alongside the base of the balcony. The scaled flesh of his shoulder pressed to the stone as before. While from his place on the dragon's back, Tiberius waited then rose and stepped back upon the flat stone of the landing.

"Will that be all, creator?"

"Yes, thank you again, Yuvonkiir."

The dragon pulled away from the platform and ruffled his wings, sending a sudden gust of air toward his master before straightening up. Then with a low back, Yuvonkiir turned and began to retreat further into the treasure-laden chamber.

Watching as his creation began to walk away, Tiberius was struck by the thought of this isolation into which Yuvonkiir retreated. And as such thoughts settled on him, the dragonoid began to feel rather guilty about the situation. After all, Yuvonkiir was utterly alone here and had been since his birth.

While this had been all well and good when the dragon had been a facet in a game, a program controlled by an AI algorithm. But he was alive now, as alive as Tiberius himself. Was it not considered cruel to allow this to continue? Perhaps offering him the choice he'd never been given before was the right thing to do.

"Yuvonkiir," Tiberius called out.

The Vault Guardian's stride halted immediately at the sound of his name and craned his neck, looking back at his master.

"I think you have been cooped up in here for long enough. Come with me, leave this place."

Instantly the dragon's visage contorted into an expression of slack-jawed shock at the suggestion.

"B-but creator, what of the many treasures kept here? It is my responsibility to look after them as their keeper. I cannot leave, I cannot abandon my duty to the Supreme Beings."

"I admire your devotion, Yuvonkiir. You honour us with it. But you needn't worry, Týrnaust is quite safe. This chamber may hold the Treasures of the Sanguine Dragons. But it's not all of them. You see this whole mountain, with everyone and everything in it is our treasure."

Tiberius strode several paces forward to stand several feet from the edge of the landing.

"You'd only be leaving this singular room, but by doing so you'd be working to ensure that all of our treasures were kept safe."

Yuvonkiir continued to stare at his creator, uncertainty still visibly at play on his draconic features. Slowly the dragon turned away, his golden eyes sweeping across the landscape of the vault and all that it held.

With appreciable reluctance, the Guardian's gaze returned to his master, and nodded.

The subsequent events strikingly mirrored Tiberius' own transformations.

A magical mist enveloped the dragon, and the air turned stiflingly hot as the haze thickened around him. Within the shroud of heat, the colossal figure of Yuvonkiir began to diminish. Gradually, he grew smaller and smaller, until he vanished from sight, concealing himself beneath the edge of the landing.

With curiosity piqued, Tiberius took cautious steps closer to the platform's edge, only to hastily retreat as an object shot up at remarkable speed. It soared gracefully over the dragonoid on leathern wings before gently settling down on the cool, grey stone, its taloned feet making a distinct clack upon landing. As Tiberius pivoted on his heel, he was met with the wondrous sight of the dragon now transformed.

In a form reminiscent of his creator, Yuvonkiir stood on two legs, bearing a striking resemblance to the one who fashioned him.

The most noticeable distinction between the two was the difference in the colour of their scales. While the Vault Guardian's scales maintained a deep crimson hue, accented with darkened bands. The obsidian scales adorned the top of his snout, extended over his head, and traced the entire length of his back and tail. This contrasting appearance highlighted the uniqueness of the dragon's transformation.

To Tiberius' surprise and relief, Yuvonkiir was clothed after the transformation. The dragon donned a basic set of garments, starting with simple dark undergarments, as was mandatory for all characters in YGGDRASIL. Over the undergarments, he wore a pair of leather trousers that reached only to his knees. A skirt of black cloth hung like a loincloth, draping down to his shins, complementing the overall appearance of the now bipedal dragon. Apart from these pieces, he remained bare of any other attire, embracing his new form with dignity and grace.

The transformation Yuvonkiir underwent was an extraordinary feat, not commonly accessible to dragons in YGGDRASIL. It was made possible through a unique ability gifted to him during his creation – the Heir of Asgorath. With this remarkable power, Yuvonkiir could transcend his natural form and assume the bipedal shape he now proudly donned.

The transformation Yuvonkiir underwent was an extraordinary feat, not commonly accessible to dragons in YGGDRASIL. It was only made possible through a unique ability – Heir of Asgorath.

Heir of Asgorath was a hidden ability scarcely known about on YGGDRASIL message boards. It could only be unlocked by gorging the growing drake on the meat of world enemy class monsters and a special invocation ritual that involved the sacrifice of an egg from every draconic creature within YGGDRASIL.

The remarkable skill bestowed upon Yuvonkiir the capacity to assume the form of any draconic creature, regardless of its race or alignment. This unique ability extended beyond mere appearance, granting him access to all the innate capabilities. With this extraordinary power, the dragon could seamlessly embody different dragon breeds and unleash their inherent talents, making him an unparalleled force to be reckoned with.

As Tiberius beheld the Guardian's new form, he couldn't help but be taken aback by the striking resemblance to himself. It was as if the dragon's appearance mirrored some aspect of his creator, which intrigued him immensely.

Yuvonkiir, too, appeared intrigued by his own transformation. With evident curiosity, he took a moment to examine his new body, craning his muscular neck to and fro as he scrutinized every detail. The connection between dragon and creator seemed to grow deeper as they both marveled at the wondrous change that had taken place.

"I take it you have not assumed another form before?" Tiberius commented as he looked on.

"No, my creator, I have not. I have always been in my natural form since the day you gave me life," Yuvonkiir responded, his golden eyes affixed to the golden-scaled dragonoid. "I must admit this sensation is… foreign to me."

Striding forward, Tiberius reached out and gently laid his hand on the other's shoulder.

"I don't doubt that. It will probably take you some time to get used to it. But we have plenty of time for that."

The Vault Guardian nodded and Tiberius removed his hand. Then a small jerk of his head, Tiberius indicated for the now-humanoid dragon to follow. So it was, the pair turned and together made their way to the exit of the Grand Treasure Vault.

o – o – o – o

Atop the watchtower, an individual stood leaning against the waist-high railing.

His face demonstrated the ruggedness of youth as it gave way to adulthood. The crop of lengthy dark brown hair atop his head was pulled back into a short ponytail. Though his bangs were left free to flutter in the gentle afternoon breeze. With a slow turn of his head, the lad's fair blue eyes traced an arc across the horizon.

Not far behind the young man was his companion. An older man, his weathered features and greying hair spoke of his age. As did the lines that had started to accumulate at the corners of his dark eyes. Even his heavy beard had started to show signs of changing to match his hair.

He was sitting atop a stool, his back pressed against the wooden post that supported the watchtower roof which sheltered the pair from the sun. From a pouch on his waist, the man produced a smoking pipe and placed its long stem to his dry lips. Reaching into the same pouch, he retrieved a small flint striker and set to the task of igniting the tobacco held in the pipe.

At the sound of the repeated rasping strikes, the younger man turned to observe his partner.

"I swear Dorik. One of these days you're gonna succeed in setting that bushy beard of yours on fire."

The older Dorik paused in his scraping, lifting an equally bushy eyebrow, he eyed the teen for his comment.

"Oh, and what makes you think that I haven't already?" he responded with a good-natured chuckle, "No, Braga. I'll be fine, I just need to get a better tobacco pouch that'll keep this blasted stuff dry."

The young man didn't respond to the elder's comment; instead, he continued to watch. When finally, Dorik managed to light the tobacco, he set the flint aside and steadily puffed at the pipe. The embers glowed within the pipe bowl and the rich scent of the burning plant matter soon filled the air.

As the smell of the tobacco reached Braga's nose, he was reminded of Dorik's attempt to let in on the "fun."

Being naïve, he'd accepted the offered pipe and didn't exactly heed the other man's instructions as he placed the stem to his lips and inhaled. His lungs had burned in an instant and he was sent into a retching coughing fit. While his stomach churned threatening to empty itself. All while Dorik had himself a hearty laugh at his expense. Braga couldn't remember seeing the bearded man laugh so hard.

Given the experience, he just didn't understand the draw of smoking a pipe and he regarded it as a mistake that he would be repeating any time soon.

Braga brought his hand up, wafting it in front of his face, in an attempt to clear the air of the scented smoke. Turning away, the young man again turned his gaze to the world outside the watchtower.

From his high perch, he watched the happenings below.

A group of children could be seen racing through the village paths, chasing after one another in their game. All while under the watchful eye of the ever-present parents. While the other villagers milled about, going about their routines as the day required. In the distance, outside the bushel of houses, others could be seen at work in the fields that surrounded the village.

Everything seemed as monotonous as it had been the first day he climbed to the top of the lookout.

It had been three weeks since that awful day. Yet the memory was still as fresh as ever in the minds of all citizens of Carne Village.

Since the horrible screams and the bloodshed. Since seemingly pointless violence had invaded their peaceful lives. Those two traveling adventurers had come and saved the collective lives of the villagers from those murderous raiders.

In the days that followed the attack, there had been plenty of work that needed doing.

The people had come together as they always did when times were tough. A number of houses had suffered in the attack, an outward reflection of the damage inflicted on the lives of the inhabitants. Repairs were made but this was only a façade, like any injury, it still left scars. Things had been irrevocably altered by the events of that day.

No longer did the people of Carne move about in their usual manner. Even the children didn't possess the same carefree attitude that had once been so prevalent. It was like the tension that hung in the air before an impending storm. Only now the storm that loomed over them ruled their memories.

Many had done their best to adapt and put the tragedy behind them. They had bid farewell to the friends and loved ones lost that day and tried to move on with life. However, it was a tall order to ask of someone whose life had been so decimated.

The sight of large hunting knives slung on belts becoming common accessories amongst many of the men was a testament to how things had altered. Some of the women and teenagers had also taken to carrying small knives on their persons. Or how during even relaxed conversations people's eyes were near-constantly their surroundings.

For some, however, it seemed that moving on was something far harder to do than say.

These unfortunate souls had allowed themselves to be governed by fear and grief. They had become reclusive, shying away from all manner of public interactions. Only venturing from their self-imposed isolation out of necessity, and when they did so it was only for brief intervals.

The experience of that day had left an indelible mark upon all their lives and everyone in Carne understood that their lives would never be the same for it.

Yet as a whole, they had chosen to persevere and come away stronger for it.

So it was to avoid such a terrible incident from ever occurring again. Some changes had been made to the way their way of life.

The first had been the establishment of a town guard and a curfew.

During the day, a rotational shift of two volunteers was to be stationed atop the watchtower at all times. While at night they would patrol the village and continue to keep watch over their fellows. These individuals were not supposed to leave their posts until their allotted time was finished.

Though, of course, there were exceptions to this rule.

Once a man had partaken of some overly ripe pork and had to be relieved early of his duty as his stomach demanded.

As for the curfew, it was strict with no exceptions when came to adolescents and children. For the adults, it was a bit more forgiving. This restriction had the expected reaction amongst the younger generation causing a fair amount of friction with their elders. But still, they complied with the rule set.

During the discussion of what to do, some proposed seeking aid by hiring some Workers. Ex-adventurers who had parted from the Adventurer's Guild –usually on poor terms– and now worked as freelancers willing to take a wide variety of jobs for pay. But this idea had been quickly dismissed.

Carne was a small village on the frontier borders of the Re-Esize Kingdom. They did not possess a great wealth of goods with which to trade. Nor did the village have anything of particular value. For the last several years, it had been hard enough to pay the Kingdom's tax collectors when the season had been difficult.

Where was a village of common folk supposed to find the funds to hire workers and continue to pay their dues?

So it was decided for them. The village of Carne was on its own.

Shaking his head to clear the memory, Braga returned to his survey duty. His pale blue eyes skimmed across the landscape. Roving from the fields his gaze skimmed along the treeline of the Great Forest of Tob. Although the chances of an attack coming from the forest were rare, however, there were still the monsters that needed worrying about.

He paused, there, halfway between the village and the forest something caught his eye.

A flicker in the air, so brief that the young man thought it at first to be a trick of the light. But it was there. A shimmer in the air like the heat haze on a hot summer's day.

The distortion grew stronger, obscuring the woodlands behind it, and growing darker until it morphed into a great yawning black void wreathed in purple flame.

"Dorik! Look!"

Fearing the worst, Dorik hastily rose from his stool, knocking it over in the process. In his rush, he'd seemingly discarded his pipe, the implement clattering on the wooden floor, spilling its smoldering contents from the bowl. The heavy thuds of the older man's footsteps echoed as he hurried to join his companion at the railing. His old eyes followed the pointing hand of Braga into the distance.

As his gaze settled on the obsidian portal hovering amidst the break between the village and the forest, a deep feeling of relief washed over Dorik.

Had such a sight been seen before that day, it would have been cause for great alarm and fear. However, things had changed since then.

Now, instead, this bizarre spectacle was a most welcome disruption to the day.

o – o – o – o

The familiar view of the human village soon materialized before the dragonoid's eyes as he emerged from the portal. Nary passed before the figure of the Guardian Overseer stepped through the [Gate].

Together the pair stood on the outskirts of the village, a destination selected so as to not startle the villagers.

As before he'd changed his form to that of the armoured human that the inhabitants of Carne had last seen him as. After all, no reason to cause an uproar by appearing before them in his typical form. They may have warmed up to him since he saved their lives, yet still, he had severe doubts that they would react well.

From her place at her master's side, the Guardian Overseer surveyed their surroundings with a slow turn of her head.

Likewise, she had similarly donned her armour when she had met him on the Pinnacle balcony. Whereas the last time she had accompanied Tiberius, it had been her master's idea and at the insistence of the other Floor Guardians. This time, however, she had taken the initiative and prepared to leave without prompting.

At the time Tiberius had been mildly surprised to have seen her waiting for him. He hadn't spoken with her about accompanying him, so it did leave him curious as to why. Perhaps she merely felt it was her duty to rejoin him in this endeavour. Or maybe she had just wanted to get away from the monotony of her regular duties.

Whichever option was just as likely to the dragonoid. But he was glad to have her along either way.

"It does not appear that much has been changed since our last visit, my lord," Yuliana commented.

"It would seem," Tiberius responded as he looked over the village in the distance, "However, I highly doubt that to be the case. After all, appearances can be deceiving."

Her master's words seemed to strike a chord with the female Guardian as this was an idiom that applied to herself as much as to the seemingly serene human village. But before either could continue their observational discussion, a dull droning echo reached their ears. From somewhere within the village, someone was ringing a bell.

Perhaps a town alarm, which would mean that their arrival had not gone unnoticed as Tiberius had hoped. Or maybe it was just the bell for lunch.

"My lord, the villagers seem to be amassing."

Hearing Yuliana's remark, the dragonoid followed her gesturing arm and turned his gaze toward the village.

So much for subtlety. Ah well…

By the outer edge of the hamlet, a decent-sized gathering had formed. This crowd, however, wore a far different face to that of the one whom the visiting pair had originally met with.

Taking note of the tension in her voice, Tiberius responded, "I think you can be at ease, Yuliana. I believe this is what is referred to as a welcoming committee."

"Hmmph, if this what these humans think is worthy of being of your magnificence then they are sorely mistaken."

Tiberius ignored the Guardian's disparaging remark and instead focused his attention on the villagers striding toward them. Many appeared to be wearing wide-brimmed smiles on their faces. Others were more neutral, but their levity shone through in their body language. And there at the head of the oncoming throng of villagers was Chief Wyllam, a rather jovial expression on his features.

"Welcome, welcome," the chief's words washed over the armoured duo, "It is good to see the two of you again."

Arriving before the pair, the elderly leader bowed deeply. It was a show of respect that the rest of the group was quick to mirror.

"To what do we owe the honour of your return?"

"At least, they are sensible enough to acknowledge the privilege of your presence," the armoured female muttered.

"It's a simple matter," the dragonoid stated, "You see before we departed last time, I was approached by a young lady. Enri, I believe her name was. She spoke to me about her fears for the safety of the village. After our talk, I was left with much to consider concerning your village."

From behind the ruby lenses of his helmet, Tiberius' eyes roamed over the curious faces of those present.

"It seems your homes remain in danger so long as you lack a means of defending yourselves." There was a mumble of conversation amongst the villagers. "So I have deliberated on the matter and have come to amend that fault."

As if some signal had been given, the obsidian surface of the yawning portal rippled as more figures emerged from the inky blackness before evaporating.

Six of these newcomers were familiar to the onlookers. With their stone bodies and roughly hewn human-like features, they were instantly recognizable to the group as the magical beings known as golems.

However, it was the two unknown to the villagers that garnered the most attention.

Striding side-by-side at the forefront were two young men whose appearance told of them being in early adulthood. While their strong resemblance to one another spoke heavily of a shared lineage.

The young man on the left was somewhat taller than the other. He had a rough look about him, with shaggy auburn hair that was disheveled and the light shadow of stubble could be seen along his jawline. Garbed in simple garments that wouldn't have looked out of place on someone within the village. Pants of sackcloth and a loose sleeveless shirt, however, there was one accessory that was out of the ordinary. The large white-furred pelt of a wolf which he wore as a vest.

In contrast, the other possessed a refined look with a clean-shaven appearance and square-rimmed glasses. He shared the same auburn-coloured hair; however, his was neatly trimmed and swept back. The young man's clothing was equally more dignified. Dark trousers with a white long-sleeved shirt beneath an emerald green vest. Over this ensemble, he wore an azure-blue cloak that fluttered like a cape as he moved.

Yet, besides the obvious facial similarity, there was another visible trait that the pair shared that garnered much fascination. Atop their heads, each bore triangular canine ears which swiveled with every sound.

At the unusual sight, many within the crowd could be heard muttering in hushed tones.

Witnessing the reaction the duo was creating, Tiberius felt it best to intercede before any fear could be instilled.

"Allow me to introduce two of my subordinates," he shifted before lifting his arm to gesture to each in turn, "This, is Remus and his brother Romulus."

"Hey," was all the response which the taller of the two had to say, though he did add in a wave of his hand.

"Salutations," the spectacled brother offered a more formal greeting.

"Ah well, greetings to you as well, you two are most welcome here, as are any companions of Sir Tiberius." A smile creased the lips of Chief Wyllam before the older man turned to their master with a questioning gaze. "Though I must admit as to my curiosity to what you have in mind."

"My plan is simple. With the aid of the golems, the brothers will begin construction of a protective wall to surround and secure the village against attacks."

"Well, that certainly sounds like quite the task. Are you sure that they will be all right with just themselves? I am sure we could round up some volunteers to…"

"That won't be necessary," Tiberius interrupted, "I believe you'll see that they have the matter well in hand."

With the raising of his arm and with a flick of his wrist signaled to the lycanthropic brothers to begin work. At their master's command, the lycanthropic brothers nodded before sharply turning about and with the golems in tow strode toward the edge of the Forest of Tob.

Several dozen yards before reaching the treeline the siblings parted company, with Remus continuing into the undergrowth. While the younger brother remained in the clearing with his stone companions.

From their place, the amassed gaze of the villagers tracked the movements of the elder brother as he strode amongst the towering trees. Selecting a particular specimen of the old growth, he approached. The werewolf eyed the tree, sizing up the task ahead of him before producing a gleaming bearded axe from seeming thin air.

The villagers looked on as Remus aligned the axe head with the tree trunk, performing several mock strikes. Satisfied, he tightened his grip and reared back, preparing to swing. Then what followed was a feat that left the human onlookers astonished.

In an astonishing display of speed, Remus' arm shot forth, tracing an arc before him with breathtaking velocity. His movement was so rapid that it appeared as nothing more than a mere blur to the human eye. In the aftermath, the world seemed to hold its breath, as if even nature itself was left awe-struck by the spectacle. A moment of silence prevailed, but it was soon shattered by the resounding snap of a whip, followed by a deep, creaking groan.

The very forest seemed to respond to Remus' action, as not one, but a dozen thick trees began to shift. At their base, they split low, their hefty trunks sliding free of the stumps, crashing to the ground with thunderous force. The sheer power unleashed by Remus' swift motion left a profound impact, leaving those present in awe of his might and mastery.

With but a single swing of the axe, this individual had accomplished a task that would have a group of people several days to do. At the spectacle before them, the gathered villagers gasped.

"There's no need to show off, Brother."

In response to Romulus' chiding remark, Remus could only smirk, paying attention to the other as he moved on, preparing to fell another score of trees.

In the wake of his departure, the golems had come to life once more and set to work. Making use of their great strength the golems began to tear the limbs from the fallen trees. With the trunks stripped bare, the stone workers hoisted the heavy logs from the ground onto their shoulders and returned to the remaining brother.

For his part, Romulus waited and looked on patiently as the golems came before him and deposited their wooden cargo. Always one for etiquette he made sure to thank the stone figures for their work. When the last of the logs had been placed into an orderly pile that he started on his portion of the task.

Adept in the usage of silent magic, Romulus did not need to speak the spell aloud for their effects to be made manifest.

His honey-amber eyes were alight with arcane energy as he focused on the amassed logs. The limbless trunks shook and rattled against themselves then slowly took to the air. Like marionettes, they danced about as if the subtle gestures of the werewolves' hands guided their strings.

Following Romulus' unspoken commands, the enchanted logs moved with military precision, aligning themselves in perfect formation. With a gesture from Romulus, the massive tree trunks rose higher above the ground, hovering in the air. In a display of astonishing finesse, the Lycan Floor Guardian extended his other arm, conjuring a radiant ribbon of lime-green light from his fingertips.

The shimmering band danced gracefully under the sunlight, and with a swift flick of his wrist, it moved like a bullwhip towards the levitating logs. The ribbon elongated and undulated before slicing through the wooden trunk effortlessly, as if cutting through butter. Twice it swirled through the air, neatly cleaving chunks from the trunk each time. By the time the spectacle was over, the end of the log had transformed into a precise wedge shape, a testament to Romulus' mastery of his extraordinary abilities.

Its purpose fulfilled the ribbon of light vanished from sight as if it had never been.

Romulus took the moment to inspect his handy work and when satisfied with their appearance. The young Lycan brought down the hand that had previously been held aloft in a swift motion.

Mimicking the gesture, the hovering trunks came rushing back toward the earth. With meteoric force, the wooden projectiles impaled themselves into the soft ground below.

To witness such acts performed with deft skill left all within the crowd speechless and with a profound sense of awe. Moreover, this demonstration served well to drive home the point of just how much power their esteemed benefactor must possess.

For all they witnessed since the day of the original meeting, from the repelling of the attack on the village to the magic displayed. To these young men who showcased such power to be subservient to another, it boggled the mind to think of what power this other owned.

"An impressive sight, wouldn't you agree, Chief Wyllam?" Tiberius remarked from the beside the older male.

"Y-yes, yes it certainly is," caught off guard by the suddenness of the question, the elder's voice wavered before regaining composure. "Sir Tiberius, I must ask… They're not human, are they?"

"No, they are not," the dragonoid shifted, eyeing the man through his helmet's ruby lenses, "Many who serve me are not human. Does such a thing bother you, Chief Wyllam?"

The aged human turned away, his weathered eyes focusing on the scene playing out before them. For a long moment, he contented himself to merely watching.

The shaggy-haired brother strode amongst the undergrowth and with every swing of his arm, a score of trees was toppled. Trees whose bodies were thicker than two men and towered over every house within the village. The stone golems picked up the downed logs and carried them effortlessly for delivery. A steady stream of fresh-cut trunks was brought to the waiting brother, who stood near motionless with only his arms moving as he channeled whatever magics were at play. Every tree trunk became just another puppet to his whims as they planted themselves one by one firmly into the soft soil and the village's defense grew ever larger.

"When we're children, our parents warn us of the monsters that roam the lands. Of the creatures that lurk in the shadows or under beds," Wyllam chuckled lightly, "Stories told to frighten children before bed. 'Be good or they'll come and take you away.'

"There are those that appear close to humans like the goblins and their kin. While others are closer to their inner natures like the ferocious beastmen. But we're told nothing of the evils of men. Of the monsters who wear the guise of civility."

The older man sighed before drawing a deep breath. Turning away, he looked up at the tall armoured figure.

"I won't lie to you, at one time such a thing would have frightened me to no end. But not now. No, whether they are human or not doesn't matter anymore to me. We have placed our trust in you and those who serve you."

Hearing this man as he waxed on philosophically, for a brief moment, Tiberius found himself transported back to his time in YGGDRASIL. To the time spent with Socrates Architect, listening to him as he expounded his sagely sentiments.

Surprising himself, Tiberius smiled behind the closed face of his helmet.

"Wise words, Chief Wyllam."

"Well, you don't get to be as old as I am without learning a thing or two."

The dragonoid paused before changing the topic of conversation. "This barrier is only one-half of the means with which I propose to protect your people."

"Oh," the older man quirked his brow, "You needn't go through such troubles on our behalf."

"Yet I have nonetheless."

For the second time that day, the abyssal portal materialized into the world. Its matte surface rippled as another pair of humanoid forms stepped forth from wherever the portal led. Then once the figures were clear of the gateway, they once more evaporated into the ether.

Immediately the gathered villager's focus was drawn to the strange new arrivals.

At a towering height of seven feet, each figure possessed a formidable build, adorned in a complete set of plate armour. The metal bore the scars of intense flames, lending a tarnished and blackened appearance. The armour exuded an air of menace, boasting sharp lines and small serrations that ran along the edges of each segment.

Adding to the ominous allure of their appearance were several other distinctive features.

Their tall helmets resembled elongated horse skulls, with a sword lodged in the forehead, its blade curving backwards to form a menacing crest. One pauldron had a wavy, textured surface, with thin and sharp peaks forming a narrow band of blades. Its counterpart, on the other hand, was round and adorned with rows of gleaming spiked tips.

Their left hand boasted fingers that were unusually elongated, resembling flexible knives rather than conventional digits. Mid-forearm, a pair of cruelly serrated blades extended out and over the hand, exuding an air of lethal precision. On the opposite side, the hand was entirely absent, replaced by a three-and-a-half-foot blade of a broadsword, magically affixed to the wrist and spinning in a slow, continuous motion.

Before these silent warriors, the villagers held their collective breath.

Sensing the creeping fear, the dragonoid acted quickly before it could take root. Taking several steps forward, he placed himself between the new arrivals and the apprehensive crowd.

"There is no need to fear," Tiberius announced, his voice carrying over the group, "These are golems, like those who currently help build the wall. They are here to defend your village."

Shifting, eyeing the said golems.

"Kneel."

As commanded the twin suits of armour lowered themselves to the ground, resting on one knee.

Approaching the golems, Tiberius circled around the pair to take his place behind them. Reaching out, he placed his gauntleted hands on either side of a tall helmet. Then with gentle side-to-side movement, he disarticulated the helmet from the shoulders of the armour.

Looking on the villagers felt a small amount of trepidation with what may be lying beneath that helm. Almost agonizingly slow the helmet was removed to reveal naught but a vacant hole at the neck. The armour was but a hollow shell.

"They are called Blade Golems, for obvious reasons. While the others are intended for labour. This type of golem is created for a singular purpose, war. Strong, dependable, and utterly deadly. Blade Golems make for efficient warriors, or in this case, guardians."

With care, the dragonoid replaced the tarnished metal helm upon the Blade Golem's shoulders. The helm sat lopsided for a moment before whatever force held it, pulled it into its proper righted position.

Tiberius sidestepped the kneeling golems and moved closer to the villagers.

"Should the village ever again be faced with the threat of an attack, these golems will act in your defense and work tirelessly to eliminate that threat. No more will the people of Carne need to live with the fear of some unknown enemy. Never again will you need to worry about your safety or that of your children."

Tiberius briefly paused in his speech, allowing the villagers a moment to absorb his words before continuing.

"Henceforth, Carne Village will be under my full protection."

Before the gathered villagers, Tiberius stood tall as they stared at him with admiration. To hear such a declaration stirred feelings of relief and joy within them. As these new emotions took hold of the crowd, the villagers broke out into a cheering chorus.

Surveying the faces of the people, Tiberius could see it. It was almost like a physical transformation had taken place. It was like a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Amongst them, Chief Wyllam stood flummoxed for several long seconds as he contemplated just how to respond.

"Again, it seems we find ourselves in your debt, Sir…" Chief Wyllam sighed and shook his head, "Lord Tiberius."

"You owe me nothing," the dragonoid answered, looking out at the pair of Floor Guardians hard at work. "If you'll excuse me, but there is another matter that I must see to."

"Oh, and why would that be?"

"I will be paying a visit that the young lady and her family that I mentioned previously."

The chief nodded his understanding, while his eyes followed the movement of the other as he turned away and took his leave. As he watched the armoured individual move away, his thoughts turned to the girl who had been spoken of.

Enri Emmot, yes he knew her and her family well enough. She was a fine young woman, always helpful, and a hard worker too.

Chief Wyllam turned, his eyes wandering over the faces of the people around him. Seeing the raw emotions on display, he made a mental note to speak with Enri at a later point and thank her for this great boon that she had inadvertently bestowed upon them all.

Leaving the village leader behind, Tiberius moved to join the Guardian Overseer.

"Yuliana, I'd like for you to keep an eye on the brothers for me."

The armoured female tilted her head, "As to what should I be watching for, my lord?"

Tiberius turned, casting his gaze toward the werewolf siblings, "While things appear to be going well for now. However, given Remus' preoccupation with competition, he may well attempt to goad his brother. I don't want for them to break into another petty squabble."

"I understand, sire. If you are leaving then I take it, you will be visiting the human family?"

"Indeed," Tiberius shifted, "Should they finish early, come and find me."

Yuliana bowed to her master and watched as he strode away toward the village. His path took him through the throng of still jovial villagers, who parted before him.

o – o – o – o

Enri leaned over the old dining table, busying herself with gathering the soiled tableware, and gently placing them on the wooden tray. As she tidied up, the teen looked across the table at her younger sibling. Little Nemu was occupied with her chores, she moved about the room with a broom in hand. While not far away, her father remained seated at the head of the table.

Liam for the most part paid little attention to the goings-on around him. Instead, his attention was focused on the work he held within his grasp.

In one hand, he held a piece of an oaken branch. The piece was several inches in length and about an inch thick. The wooden shaft had already been prepped, stripped bare of its bark, and relatively straight. In his other, the man grasped a small knife with an odd hook-shaped bend to the blade.

Skillfully Liam drew the knife along the length of the piece of wood. Each time removing only a thin layer of material. The shavings fell away to lay discarded around his feet on the floor. This was much to the annoyance of a certain young girl, who with the broom in hand did her best to manage the growing mess.

"Daaadddy," Nemu groaned, "Can't you do that outside?"

Cocking his head, the girl's father smiled as he looked at his daughter, "Now, now, Nemu. If I did that then there would be nothing for you to sweep, now would there? Think of it this way, I'm just helping you with your chore."

The young girl huffed while her father chuckled. Then with a stamp of her foot, she turned abruptly and went back to sweeping the floor. Leaving the pile of wood shavings behind.

Seeing this, Enri joined her father, chiming in with a soft giggle of her own. With the tray laden with cups, dishes, and silverware, Enri lifted the tray from the tabletop and carried it into the kitchenette. Here, her mother, Sofina, stood before the washbasin, her hands submerged in the water. Beneath the soap-covered surface, her hands worked to scrub clean the pan used for the afternoon meal.

The clattering sound of dishes announced the delivery of more work as her daughter set her cargo down on the countertop.

"Thank you, Enri," the mother said, directing a smile to her daughter.

"No problem, Mom," the teen smiled back, "Can I give you a hand with anything else?"

"No dear, but I have things well in hand."

Turning around, the teenager leaned back against the waist-high counter. From her place in the kitchenette, she looked at her father and again at her sister.

The young girl continued her sweeping, happily humming a tune to herself as she worked. To see her sister in such a mood did well for Enri's heart. It was a feeling she was sure that her parents shared too.

It had been hard in those days which followed that eventful and awful day.

That night had been the longest in Enri's life.

After arriving home, she had been met by her parents. In saying that both were upset with her was to say that water was wet. Never could she remember seeing either of them so cross. Quickly the teen set to explaining where she had been and even shown the magic scroll with which she had been gifted. However, this did little to alleviate their aggravation with her actions. For several long minutes, Enri stood in the main room listening to her parents as they scolded her.

She'd been rather thankful when the only punishment she received was to be sent promptly to bed.

While her mother soon off to bed herself, her father had a different intention. Her father had spent that first night, and several that followed, in his chair, just staring at the bolted front door. Resting on the table near him was her mother's meat cleaver. He had pilfered it from its place in the draw and kept it at the ready should the need for its use arise.

Once in her room, Enri hastily changed into her sleepwear and climbed into bed.

Unfortunately, the peace of sleep did not come easily to her. Instead, she lay in bed, her soft brown eyes staring up at the ceiling. Occasionally her gaze would drift about the room, the low flame of the nearby oil lamp provided just enough illumination. Several times her hand would slide beneath her pillow to grasp the scroll she'd placed there. The feel of it in her hand brought some comforting peace to her troubled mind.

However, as sleep began to seep into her body and her eyelids grew heavy. This quest for slumber was about to come to an abrupt halt.

The events of the day had left their mark on Nemu's psyche and became more evident in her sleep. The young girl's movements were calm in the beginning but as the night went on, they became erratic in her fitful slumber. Then with a fearful cry, Nemu awoke, frantically throwing the sheets from herself as streams of fresh tears streaked down her cheeks.

Enri had leaped from her bed, with such haste that she didn't notice that her landing had sprained her ankle. That realization came later the next day. Rushing to her sister's side, the little girl quickly latched onto her with a vice-like grip. The teen held her just as tightly and set to the task of soothing her sibling's troubled mind.

It wasn't long after that their bedroom door burst open and their parents swiftly entered the room.

Sofina stood in her nightgown with an oil lamp in hand, her eyes wide with fright. While their father, Liam, stood beside her, partially sheltering her against whatever threat may be present. In his right hand, he held the cleaver in a white-knuckled grip, and his face was equally contorted with worry.

After the moment's confusion and the initial panic had subsided, relative peace was restored.

Sofina was the first to move, carefully making her way across the room. She set the lamp aside before joining her eldest daughter on the bed of her youngest child. Liam was not far behind as he took a seat on the bed, dropping the cleaver on the floor. And together with his wife and eldest daughter worked to comfort young Nemu.

By the time Nemu had fallen back asleep, most of the night had gone by.

In the morning that followed, the family dealt with their fatigue but still carried on as usual. However, with some differences. Such as Liam now escorted Enri during her daily chore of fetching the day's water, and had continued to do so every day since.

While some may have felt that this was unnecessary or overcompensating. Still, Enri was grateful as his presence made the task much easier and together they finished quickly.

Yet as they strode through the village with their liquid cargo, the teen couldn't help but notice her father's almost distracted demeanor. The entire walk, while he stayed close to her, his sharp eyes were always darting about their surroundings. Or how he paid little attention to what she would say and would have to repeat herself.

Even her mother's attitude had changed. She refused to let Nemu leave her sight, going so far as to not let the child leave the house for the whole day.

Most thankfully Nemu's most violent nightmares had pretty much subsided by the middle of the second week. But while she slept soundly, discounting the tossing and turning, she still would complain of bad dreams in the mornings.

Eventually, Nemu was allowed to return to playing with the other village children. But only so long as an adult was present to supervise.

Watching them play for herself, Enri noticed the subtle change in the kids. No longer did they have quite the same flare as before. Nemu, herself, didn't wander as she used to. Or try to avoid her chores as she had once done. Now she stayed within the village and came home often well before the curfew of sundown.

Her mother had jested that perhaps it was a sign that the young girl was finally maturing. However, they knew the truth as to the explanation behind Nemu's change in attitude.

But it wasn't just in others that Enri had noticed a change.

Often Enri had found herself keeping her back to a wall whether indoors or outdoors. Or that certain sounds had come to bother her far more than they had ever before. Such as the shrill cry of a spring lamb had sent her heart racing and formed a tight knot in the pit of her stomach. She had also experienced her share of nightmares, though none as horrendous to send her back to the waking world in tears. However, she did find herself tangled in her bedsheets and her nightgown clinging to her body, damp from sweat.

Yet no matter how bad those dreams were, or how her behaviour had changed. Enri counted herself amongst the luckiest to have escaped the worst of the traumas. After all, she still had her family to help each other whereas others could not say the same.

Absentmindedly, the teenage girl lifted her hand to the small pocket inside the lightweight overshirt she wore. There she felt the reassuring form of the magic scroll nestled safely out of sight. Its presence and the promise which it symbolized was a comfort to her whenever her mind was troubled.

"Enri?"

The sound of her father's voice cut through her thoughts and brought her back to the moment.

"Uh, what?"

"I asked if you would hand that file there," Liam outstretched his arm, his hand pointing to a slim bar of metal lying on the other end of the table.

"Oh, right. Sure thing, Dad."

Taking her hand away from the roll of paper in her pocket, Enri pushed off from the counter on which she had been leaning. With a casual stride, she crossed the short distance to the table and plucked the file from the wooden surface. After two or three steps arrived at her father's side and readily deposited the sliver of metal into his waiting hand.

"Thank you, Enri," he replied, his gaze lingering on his daughter, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she smiled.

"Are you sure? You seem distracted?"

"I've just been thinking, that's all."

Liam continued to eye the teen for a moment before turning back to his work. From her place, Enri watched as he took the file to the wooden blank and began to smooth down the coarse strokes left by the knife. Slowly the basic shape of the pipe was refined.

Enri enjoyed watching her father work. It was something she had done as a child, it was relaxing.

It was normal occurrences like this, small everyday things that served to anchor their lives in the tranquility of the undisturbed past.

"Do you hear that?"

Distracted by the sudden sounds outside, Sofina stopped her scrubbing, her hands sat idle in the washtub as she stared out the nearby window.

At her urging the rest of the family now stopped and listened.

Looking up from his pipe-in-progress, Liam replied, "Sounds like the watchtower bell."

"Is it bad?" the timid voice of the youngest daughter could be heard, her small hands gripping the broom handle all the tighter.

Subconsciously at her sister's question, Enri's hand sought out the comfort of the unseen scroll sitting in her pocket.

"Aww, Nemu, come here," the girl's father spoke softly. Setting aside his work, he patted his lap.

Without a second's hesitation, Nemu let go of the broom, letting it clatter on the floor, and ran to her father's waiting arms. He placed his hands under his daughter's arms, plucking her up and setting her astride his lap.

"It's all right, Nemu," he whispered soothingly, "It's nothing bad. Here, just listen to the ringing."

The young girl sat on her father's lap, holding him close, but she did as she was told and listened to the sound.

The dull drone of the watchtower bell could be clearly heard. The rhythm was slow, with an almost languished gap between each of the echoing bongs.

Gently Liam rubbed the girl's back as she pressed herself against him. "See if it were anything bad then the lookouts would be ringing the bell much faster."

Sofina wiped the water from her hands with the apron she wore. Letting the cloth fall back to her feet, the mother approached her husband and daughter.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, she asked, "What do think it is then?"

"I don't know. Maybe another of those wandering traders is passing by."

While her parents busied themselves with assuaging her sister's fears, and those of their own. Enri moved across the room to a window, her hand still clutching the scroll in her pocket. Her eyes scanned the world outside. Her father was right, if the tolling of the bell had meant something bad then one would expect a corresponding reaction. Meaning there should be a flurry of activity within the village. But there was nothing, everything was serene.

Eventually, the dull bong of the bell faded and allowed the day's peace to return, and the members of the Emmot family went about their lives.

A knock at the door sounded throughout the home and the occupant's eyes fell to the source, puzzlement clear on their faces.

"I wonder who could that be?"

Liam and Sofina exchanged looks of curiosity for a moment before Liam set the rough pipe and his tools on the table, and then made a move to stand.

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll get it," Enri promptly announced.

"Oh, all right," the family patriarch spoke, mildly surprised by this.

Leaving her place at her father's side, Enri rounded the table and strode toward the door. During this, it seemed whoever was on the other side was growing impatient. Another series of knocks echoed through the air.

Taking the peg from the lock, Enri undid the latch and turned the knob. The door swung open wide to allow the bright sunlight to illuminate the dimmer interior of the home.

"Good afternoon, may I come in?" the person on the side of the door spoke before it had fully opened.

The young woman froze immediately upon hearing the speaker's voice.

"Uhh… Y-yes, of course," Enri replied.

From their place at the head of the table, Liam and Sofina watched as their daughter stepped aside and allowed the visitor to enter. Their eyes widened with surprise at the sight of the armoured guest passing through the threshold and into their lives for the second time.

Hastily Liam rose from his chair, his work on the unfinished pipe left on the table suddenly forgotten about, and moved to stand with his wife.

"W-welcome," the father offered the words in greeting.

"Yes, welcome to our home," Sofina agreed with a gentle smile.

Upon seeing three of the four family members, Tiberius wondered momentarily where the youngest member of the family might be. His answer came as the child exited the short hall at the back of the room. Her attention was too focused on making sure her outfit was neat to take notice of the new arrival, at first.

However, that moment was quick to pass.

With a gasp of surprise, the girl's eyes widened like saucers as she caught sight of the familiar form before a giddy squeal was released from her ginning mouth.

"You're back! You're back!"

Nemu's enthusiastic chant carried throughout the house nearly as fast as the girl's feet carried. As the girl moved past the head of the table and crossed the path of her parents, her frantic pacing was quickly arrested when her mother's hands took hold of her. At which point Nemu could only stare up at her parent with a pout.

"Mooom!" the young girl groaned.

Sofina responded only with a firm grip until Nemu ceased her struggles. Once her daughter had settled, the blonde-haired adult loosened her grip.

Clearing his throat, the family patriarch took his place alongside his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Please forgive us, we didn't know the bell was ringing for you. We thought it was just another trader passing through." Liam bowed his head, swallowing the lump in his throat, "If we had known, we would've prepared a proper welcome."

"It's quite all right," Tiberius raised his gauntlet-clad hand in a calming gesture, "I had intended for my arrival to be informal. However, that didn't go as planned."

The dragonoid paused as he looked at the man and was unable to place a name on his face.

"I'm sorry. But with the chaos during my previous," he cleared his throat, "…visit. I don't believe I got your name or that of your wife."

The dark-haired patriarch nodded, "My name is Liam Emmot, and this is my wife, Sofina." The beautiful blonde at Liam's side performed a gentle curtsey. "And of course, as you probably know, these are our daughters. Our eldest, Enri. And the young one here is Nemu."

"A pleasure to meet you all," Tiberius bowed his head to the family before turning his focus back to the father. "To my recall, I healed the injury you sustained. How are you doing? Well, I trust? No lingering pains?"

Liam shook his head, "Oh no, no pain or anything. I am doing quite well since you saved my life."

"That is good to hear. And how about the rest of your family?"

This time it was the wife who answered.

"It has been difficult, especially at first. And it will take some time yet, but we are learning to cope." A thin smile graced her lips as she turned to gaze at her husband, her hand instinctively taking his into her grasp.

Leaving the husband and wife to their moment, Tiberius turned his attention to the teen who stood silently waiting nearby. She stood with her hands clasped together before her and downcast eyes directed to the floorboards beneath her feet.

"And how are you, Enri?"

"I-I'm doing all right."

"When you opened the door, you seemed surprised to see me."

Lifting her head, the teen's eyes met the ruby lenses of the other's wolven helmet.

"Oh, uh, well, it's just…"

"You weren't expecting that I'd come back," the dragonoid finished the girl's statement as if reading her thoughts, "For that, I must express my regrets for such a delay. When last we spoke, you gave me much to think about."

At the spoken reminder of their daughter's act of sneaking off that night, a frown crept over the face of the teen's mother. It seemed the irritation over the incident was something she hadn't gotten over yet.

"But I gave you my word that I'd come back, and I always keep a promise." Tiberius pivoted on his heel and approached the old oaken table nearby. "I've already spoken with Chief Wyllam and made arrangements for the defense of your village," he tapped a gauntlet-clad finger on the table, "However, there is still the matter of you and your family that has had me concerned. Which is why I brought you this."

Raising his arm, his hand disappeared into the depths of the pocket dimension that stored his inventory. It was an act that was met with varied responses from the family. The two adults looked on with shock at such a sight. The teenage daughter watched with clear interest. While the youngest amongst them cried out with exuberant glee at the seemingly magical act.

A moment later his hand was returned to the material world and brought with it his gift. A statuette crafted of polished silver metal and in the form of a knight clad in full armour with its hands resting atop a tall shield.

"What is it?" the youngest Emmot asked as she moved closer to the table.

"A gift which will protect your family," met with looks of puzzlement, he placed the figurine upon the tabletop before continuing. "You see this statue has been enchanted with the same powerful shielding spell that I cast over the storehouse that night. To activate the spell, you need only to place your hand on the statue and repeat the words [Shield Wall]. Now, while the statue can be used without limit. The magic within can only be used once per day."

Hearing this, the previous looks of befuddlement changed into looks of astonishment and disbelief.

"Ooh, so cool!" Nemu squealed, her arm reaching out to touch the cool metal.

"Nemu," the girl's father sternly spoke her name, getting her to draw back her hand from the polished surface. Satisfied, Liam turned to his family's armoured benefactor. "I thank you, but how can we accept such a thing? You've already done so much for our family as it stands."

"Take it, protect your family," the dragonoid spoke, resolute on the matter at hand, "I have seen enough pain that I do not wish to see it again. Especially on those that do not deserve such things."

The dark-haired man went quiet as he considered the other's offer.

His wife, sensing the dilemma within her husband, moved. Taking each of his hands into hers, she silently directed him to meet her gaze. The pair held each other's eyes for several long moments, sharing a wordless understanding as they jointly reached a decision.

Then with a brief sigh, Liam spoke, "Very well, Sir Tiberius."

"Good," the dragonoid replied, "Now then, I guess it's time that I tell you of my other gift."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, while the statue can protect your family without a doubt. It's only able to do so if all of you are gathered together. Otherwise, it is all but useless. And so, I have come up with another means by which to ensure you all will be protected, even when separated. To this end, I have enlisted the aid of two of my subordinates who will serve as bodyguards with your safety being their topmost concern."

The statement, however, was only a half-truth. As the summoner of these mercenary NPCs, their true priority lay with whatever his desires may be. But, Tiberius felt this information was probably best left omitted.

"Although, I must tell you that those I selected are unlike any that you have probably seen before." His voice softened becoming one of mirth, "But I hope you won't let their appearances put you off. I'm sure you'll find them to be friendly once you get to know them."

At the mention of non-humans, the tension within the room seemed to rise. As it seemed their feelings about the subject were equally tainted by the prevalent preconceptions.

"Will this be a problem?"

"No."

All eyes quickly fell on the teenage speaker who had answered without hesitation.

The girl's parents could only stare at their daughter, surprise etched clear upon their features. Together their eyes roamed over the teen's face, searching for any hint of uncertainty, or unease, instead, they found none.

Even Tiberius found himself taken aback by Enri's sudden response, and yet, at the same time he wasn't.

The young lady had already succeeded in setting herself apart from her fellows in the dragonoid's eyes. She'd demonstrated initiative when she had pleaded with him to save her wounded father. Then later that evening she showcased her bravery in ferrying herself away from the comfort of home and family to speak with him before he could leave. For her to do so, especially after suffering through the day's trauma, while so many others would have refused to leave the solemn security of home. It was admirable.

As her parents had done previously, he too studied the young woman before him.

She seems to be telling the truth. And maybe she is. I guess we'll just have to put that to the test then.

With a nod, Tiberius shifted and made his way to the door. A quick turn of the handle and the door swung open, yet he paused at the threshold and looked back at the home's residents.

"I understand that you have your reservations. So take your time and then, if you are willing. Please join me outside and I shall introduce you to them."

The dragonoid stepped through, the door shutting behind him and the latch securing itself with a click.

Reluctantly Liam left his wife's side and made his way to the dining table. Extending his arm, he took the miniature knight into his hand. Lifting the statue from the tabletop, he found the lack of weight a complete contradiction to his expectations for such an item. But in truth, it wasn't terribly unexpected that someone like that man would have such things at his disposal.

"What are you thinking, dear?"

Moving closer, the family matriarch pressed for her husband's thoughts about the matter. However, Liam didn't answer. Instead, he merely placed the statue back down on the tabletop before turning to face his wife and daughters. His brown eyes flicked between each in turn and settled on his eldest child.

"Enri, what do you think we should do?"

"M-me?" the teen stammered.

"Yes, you," Liam replied, placing his hands on his hips as he eyed his daughter, "After all, you're the one who prompted this act of charity."

"Well, I mean, I guess we don't really have much choice about it. It would be rude if we didn't accept after he's gone through all this trouble."

Her father chuckled, "I would say you're probably right about that."

In contrast to the seemingly more lighthearted manner with which her husband and daughter handled the matter. Sofina retained a more serious tone as she addressed the pair.

"But… nonhumans," the blonde-haired mother clutched at the back of the chair that hands rested on, "I mean you know the stories of what they're like. Of the things they do."

"It will be all right, Mom. Sir Tiberius saved us and I don't think he would do anything to put us in danger. I mean if they serve him they can't be bad."

"But…"

However, Sofina's further argument was silenced by the approach of her husband. Arriving at his wife's side, Liam reached out and gently cupped her cheek in his rough hands. It was a reassuring gesture meant to quell her brewing worries.

"We can't keep him waiting out there forever," he said.

"Yeah, let's go, Mom," the excited tones of Nemu echoed as she eagerly made for the door.

Seeing her child march toward the door, the mother wanted to say something, to form some kind of argument against what was to follow. However, this proved to be a futile effort as each thought was quickly countered before it could be said. So with a sigh of resignation, Sofina grasped her husband's hand and together they readied to see what awaited them outside.

Young Nemu was the first to exit the family's humble abode with an eager stride. Following closely behind was the girl's elder sister. Their parents emerged several moments later hand in hand. While Liam shared some of his children's more nonchalant attitudes, his wife did not. Her movements were slower, and guarded, as she ventured outside with her family.

Standing opposite the Emmot home was the waiting dragonoid, his silver armour glittered brightly under the light of the afternoon sun. Not far from him, a small crowd of their fellow villagers whose curiosity had led them to follow.

"Are you ready?" he questioned.

Whilst the youngest amongst the Emmots was quick to respond with enthusiastic joy. The older three were slower to answer, but agree they did.

Tiberius nodded, "It's time. Show yourselves," he commanded.

At first, it seemed that the proclamation would go unanswered. But then something happened.

The air beside the armoured dragonoid shimmered, and the light appeared to bend, creating neatly arranged ripples. These peculiar undulations in reality swirled and unfolded like curtains being pulled back, gradually revealing the source of this intriguing phenomenon.

In the place where only open air existed before, now stood two unusual creatures.

Despite their noticeable height, both creatures seemed to have a slight hunch in their posture. If they stood to their full height, it was evident they would easily surpass six feet tall. Their bodies appeared agile yet strong, with sinewy muscles adorning their limbs. Most of their physique was concealed beneath their attire, but the exposed flesh displayed a distinctive dark blue-grey colouration.

Adding to their distinct alien appearance, each of these creatures possessed an extra pair of arms. These additional limbs emerged from near their shoulders, resembling a set of wings, which seemed fitting as they rested folded against their bodies. Despite being about a third shorter than their primary arms, these secondary appendages were equally muscular and robust in appearance.

Each of the four hands featured a thumb and three fingers, each capped by a thick talon firmly embedded in the peculiarly coloured flesh. The claws appeared formidable, capable of effortlessly tearing through flesh or rending metal armour as if it were mere paper. The creature's feet bore a semblance of human likeness but had distinct differences setting them apart. Resembling a typical human foot, they had three thick and remarkably flexible toes, each of which also possessed powerful claws. Additionally, a lengthy and lithe tail extended from the creature, reaching down to rest on the ground.

Their heads remained concealed beneath the peculiar masks they wore. These were no ordinary hide or steel helms; instead, they were crafted from bones – skulls of fearsome beasts that had been bleached and polished to create these unique coverings.

Here, it became evident that their individual preferences had influenced the appearance of these accessories.

On the left stood an individual donning a skull helm taken from a creature with an intriguing blend of canine and reptilian traits. The overall appearance resembled that of a wolf, with a long and broad snout. However, the similarities to mammals ended there, as reptilian features took over. The exposed upper jaw had prominent canine teeth at the forefront, but the rest of the jaw was lined with a series of recurved blade-like teeth. The bridge of the snout displayed a ripple-like pattern in the bone, and just behind the nasal cavity sat a small horn. But this was not the only horn; atop the skull mask, a pair of curled ram-like horns added to its distinctiveness. From the empty sockets of the mask, a pair of fearsome blue-green eyes gazed out at the onlookers.

Their companion wore a skull helm that bore an almost horse-like countenance. Elongated and broad in shape, featuring a pair of narrow slit-like nostril openings. Instead of the usual flat equine teeth, a comb of spike-like fangs protruded from within the mouth area. The creature's head displayed a prominent ridge along the upper portion of the skull, giving the illusion of two bony crests above the eye sockets. From within those openings, a pair of eyes gazed out, this time with a vibrant yellow-green hue in their irises.

Their chosen attire was simple, yet it somehow enhanced their already intimidating demeanour.

Their bodies were concealed beneath several layers of tattered cloaks, the outermost one being made of grey fur with a collar adorned by black feathers. Despite the concealment, their distinct clothing choices were still visible. Each of them wore a baggy shirt, one in a deep maroon shade and the other in dark midnight blue – an unusual selection more suited for nobility than for creatures like them. Their legs were clad in form-fitted trousers made from a heavy, dark fabric, while strips of well-worn leather were wrapped around their feet and shins, leaving the heels and toes uncovered. Additionally, their fingerless gloves adorned all four of their hands. They sported ratty red scarves embroidered with patterns of golden spirals around their necks.

The macabre theme of bone was not reserved solely for the masks but also for the makeshift armour.

Their upper bodies were encased in the bleached ribcage of a large beast, adorned with lumps of plaster and thin metallic plates, likely used to mend any fractures. Their forearms were shielded by vambraces made of leather, to which several long bones were affixed. Similar protection was applied to their lower legs as well.

Regarding their offensive capabilities, they carried an array of implements with them.

Nestled into banded holsters fastened to their upper thighs were sets of short throwing daggers. Dangling from their belts, a collection of larger blades could be seen, each handle intricately carved from ivory into ornate forms. Additionally, from the lower backs of their cloaks, the handles of a twin pair of curved cleaver-like short swords protruded outwards.

Within YGGDRASIL, these creatures were of a race known as astral hunters. As mid-high tier monsters, this placed them on the same power levels as the members of the Valkyries.

As per the lore crafted by the game developers, astral hunters were an intimidating race of nomadic beings. They roamed without restraint across the Nine Realms of YGGDRASIL, seeking formidable prey. Their existence revolved around the pursuit of the hunt, for they firmly believed that it was through this endeavour that they could ascend and attain greater strength. After each triumphant hunt, the hunter would seize a trophy from their chosen quarry, thus binding the prey's prowess to their own.

It was for the combination of strength and versatility that Tiberius had settled upon them for the task at hand. However, it was not the main reason for their selection. For the truth was rather simple, astral hunters were one of the dragonoid's favorite monsters from his time in YGGDRASIL.

The appearance of the two nonhumans elicited the anticipated reactions from the villagers. Some looked on with fear and concern, taken aback by their sudden presence. A handful of individuals displayed faces twisted in revulsion at the sight before them. Yet, amidst the villagers, there were a few who wore distinct expressions, reflecting a range of emotions beyond fear and disgust.

Wonder and unbridled excitement grazed the features of one particular young child.

Before Sofina could stop her daughter, Nemu had left her side and rushed forward with a giddy smile on her lips.

"Wait, Nemu!"

Those were the only words the mother could manage as the girl continued onward without care. With purpose, she strode forward and only stopped when she stood a yard from these interesting creatures.

"Oh, so cool!"

Tiberius heard the girl's trademark expression of enthusiasm as she repeated it over and over. Seeing this was enough to bring a small smile to him. But soon enough Nemu's mind focused and a veritable avalanche of questions was ushered forth to bombard the two standing before her.

"So what are you two? Do you have names? How did you get to work for Tiberius? Ooh, can I work for him too? Where are you two from? Why do you wear those masks? What do you look like without them? Can I get one of those masks?"

These and many more inquiries flowed like a leak in a dam. Under the little girl's verbal barrage, the two astral hunters could only stare down at her with bewilderment. However, before she could continue with the onslaught she was interrupted by another.

"Nemu, at least give them a chance to answer you first."

At her sister's admonishment, the younger sibling groaned and pouted. It was a scene that reminded the dragonoid of when he had first met the sisters.

From her sister's side, Enri looked over the pair of non-humans. When she noticed their eyes upon her, copying the action, the teen straightened her posture and then bowed to the pair.

"Uh, nice to meet you. My name is Enri and this is my sister Nemu," she greeted; however, the two Hunters remained impassive, "Umm, do you two have names?"

The bone-clad creatures cocked their heads in a rather birdlike fashion as if puzzled by the question before giving a shake of their heads.

"Then what do you call each other?"

"Hunter."

The pair responded in unison – the sound of their voice was harsh, akin to a guttural growl. It was a sound that caught the sisters off guard and earned a small flinch from each.

"Oh, but…"

"Hey!" Nemu interrupted, "No fair, they answer you but not me!"

The younger sister stared up at her elder sibling, a scowl twisting her features as she stamped her foot to emphasize her displeasure. However, Enri didn't react. Seeing this, Nemu grumbled and turned away, her features softening as her gaze returned to the two beings standing before them.

"Can you take off your masks?" the smaller sister inquired, as she did her best imitation of so-called puppy-dog eyes.

The question caught the astral hunters by surprise. The pair turned to each other and exchanged glances before looking at their master.

Tiberius nodded his approval.

With near-simultaneous movements, the duo reached up and unfastened the few clasps and loosened the straps that held the skull masks in place. No longer secured, their clawed hands gripped the bone and slid them from their faces.

Without that particular piece of apparel to hinder the view, the gathered crowd was afforded a far better look at what lay beneath.

By and large, their heads bore a strong resemblance to some strange crossbreed of avian and reptile. With an overall shape like that of a lizard and some bird of prey, though with a complete lack of feathers. Instead, their heads were covered in the same leathery dark blue-grey flesh. This dull colouration was greatly contrasted by the turquoise highlights that streaked the length of the muzzles and under the eye. It was almost like war paint.

Overlapping reptilian scales encircled the eyes. While those on the brow were broader, raised, and more spine-like in appearance. Atop their heads, starting at the slope of the forehead was a trail of extremely fine, almost hair-like, quills. These quills formed a mohawk that swept back over the crown of their head and the back of the neck.

Running the length of their narrow arrow-shaped jaws were numerous interlocking teeth. This snaggle-toothed appearance was much like a crocodile. Interestingly at the end of the snout was a beak like that of an eagle, but only on the upper jaw. However, this beak did not seem to be necessarily affixed to the bone of the skull behind it. Instead, it flexed freely with the movement of the jaw.

At the reveal of their rather unique visage, some of the villagers audibly gasped. Yet these reactions were lost on a certain young girl. She stared up at the otherworldly creatures with wide-eyed fascination.

"Wow, you guys are kinda scary looking." Nemu's comment was contradicted by the merry giggle that followed. "So cool!"

Likewise, Enri showed no hint of fear about her as she studied their bestial visage. Her soft brown eyes roamed over them, taking in the various facets of their inhuman features.

"Is something bothering you, Enri?"

The teen remained unresponsive as she continued to stare uninterrupted. It was only when her younger sibling reached up and tugged on her clothing that she was brought out of her thoughts.

"Huh, what?"

"I was asking if something was troubling you," Tiberius repeated.

"Oh, I'm sorry. But it's nothing really."

"What is it?"

"Ah, well… it's just that I was thinking about their names. Or, well, the lack thereof. I mean, if they're both called Hunter, how would they know which one was being called?"

"Indeed, I can see how that could pose a problem. So then, just what would you suggest?"

"I guess we could give them names," Enri paused a moment to think, "Well since they're so used to referring to each other as Hunter. Then how about we choose a name that means something like that?"

Again, the teenager went quiet, her gaze shifting between the two avian-reptile hybrids. While within her head, she began to sort through a list of names that she knew of. Searching for any that would best suit her purpose.

Finally, her gaze settled on the one wearing the maroon shirt and the blue-green eyes.

"How about we call you… Jaeger?" she then turned her focus to the other, "And you can be…"

"Chase!"

Tiberius and Enri inclined their heads, their eyes falling onto the beaming face of little Nemu.

"What? Why'd you pick that, Nemu?"

"Because hunters chase things. So I picked Chase."

The girl's eyes shone with pride and her tone was laced with the satisfaction which she felt over her choice. The armoured dragonoid let out a deep chuckle, while the elder sister merely rolled her eyes.

As for the two otherworldly creatures, they shifted, looking at one another, and the pair began to converse in their native tongue. It was an odd-sounding dialect, consisting of a unique mixture of low snake-like hisses, birdlike squawks, and deep growls. When their discussion had ended, they turned their gaze back to the humans standing before them.

"We find these names suitable and accept," it was the one now known as Jaeger who spoke.

The answer brought a smile to the faces of both girls.

Not far away, from their place closer to their home's entrance, the parents of the two girls looked on with interest.

While their father appeared less flustered by the scene playing out before them, he nonetheless watched it intensely. At his side, Sofina stood continuing to showcase her anxiety rather visibly. Her jaw was pulled tight while she fidgeted with her hands, not knowing what else to do with them. This nervousness was not lost on her husband.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," the blonde-haired mother replied, a bit too quickly, "Why do you ask?"

"This," Liam reached out to take her wringing hands into his own, his brown eyes met the gaze of her blue orbs, "This, is why I am asking. We've known each other since we were kids, you can't fool me."

Hearing his calm tone and reassuring grip, Sofina relaxed, much of the tension fleeing from her body. However, the fleeting glances that she continued to make toward her daughters created a different impression.

"It's just… Do you think things will really be okay? They just look so… wild."

Her husband chuckled, "On that sentiment, I agree. If they were meant to put us at ease, he didn't do us any favours there." Liam reached up, cupped his wife's cheek, and gently turned her head, "But look."

His words were somewhat redundant as Sofina's eyes had so rarely left their children.

Their daughters stood together, the younger of the pair was giggling as she spoke with the two creatures. Sofina felt her heart seemingly skip a beat when Nemu reached out to grip the creature's clawed hand. Reacting to this the creature raised his hand and with it lifted the little girl from the ground with great ease. Nemu laughed, kicking her feet about as she dangled in the air for several moments before she was again lowered back to the ground. Even Enri appeared to be in good spirits as she laughed and shared a few words with her sister.

"See how they act? They are at ease and so are the girls. I'd say any misgivings we had were misplaced in this matter."

As Sofina looked on, it seemed that her husband's more positive mood was contagious as she allowed herself a small smile. "So you truly think it's safe?"

"There's only one way to find out for certain."

Taking a step forward, Liam then pivoted and offered his outstretched hand to his wife. Who after a moment's hesitation, Sofina extended her own arm to take hold of his hand before he led her out to join their children.

Nemu was seemingly fascinated by the pair of non-humans before. Despite their fierce countenance, she was undeterred as she inspected them. She circled them, occasionally coming close to question them about some piece of equipment they carried. Or to just ask them about themselves.

The elder sister, however, was more reserved about the affair. Content to remain back with a smile on her face as she watched her sister's antics. This seeming timidity to come closer was not born of fear but from good manners. She felt it was more respectful to remain back and allow them their space. A few times, Enri did speak up as she tried to wrangle Nemu in from getting too carried away, much to the other's displeasure. But she complied nonetheless.

The girls' parents were slow to join their children, but eventually, they did. Their father offered a simple greeting to the alien duo, aided by his daughters as they informed him of their names. His wife showcased her anxiety, subdued though it was. She gripped tightly to his arm while her blue eyes darted between the creatures.

As she had earlier, Nemu again took hold of the far larger clawed hand of Chase. Gently she tugged at his limb until he again lifted her from the ground. However, this time the repto-avian craned its neck forward, bringing its head close to the little girl. The eagle-like beak twitched at the end of the snout as the astral hunter sniffed at Nemu's hair.

As it had before, seeing her child being handled so by this nonhuman did much to trigger Sofina's motherly instincts. Being so close, she could better see those spike-like teeth that lined the jaws, and she could not help but conjure darker imaginings of what those teeth could do if their owner was so inclined. She wanted to call out to her daughter, to rush forward and pull her away from this potential threat. Yet Sofina did not.

Instead, she watched as the creature carried out its own examination of her child. It sniffed her ruddy locks before pulling back and cocking its head as they two stared at one another. The whole time Nemu continued to giggle and smile at the nonhuman. Then seemingly satisfied, Nemu's feet were again allowed to return to the earth.

Perhaps Liam and Enri had been right and things would be all right after all.

Sofina shifted, her clear blue eyes turned to the armoured figure who stood nearby like a silent sentinel watching over the scene. The same individual who had saved her family and now offered so much to protect them. With a wide smile, she turned and wrapped her arms around Liam's waist and hugged him.

To see the interactions between the Emmot family and their new guardians proceeding so smoothly pleased Tiberius to no end. Yet as he watched the proceedings the dragonoid noticed his attention being oddly drawn to the elder sister.

In their brief encounters, Tiberius had found himself coming to appreciate her. It was something that he could not put fully into words but there was something about her presence that he found enchanting. Perhaps it was just a matter of her physical beauty. Or maybe it was for the rather radiant personality of which she was possessed. Either way, it did not matter to him. Just being around her was something Tiberius found to be comforting.

In response to this feeling, something within the recesses of the dragonoid's mind stirred.

Some part of himself wanted to reach out and take this girl for his own. To possess her and guard her, just as one would with a rare treasure. To revel in these pleasant sensations that would flow from having her around him. Should anyone object to this arrangement, it would be a simple matter of crushing them beneath his heel.

This urge, however, left Tiberius feeling unsettled as yet another reminder of his new state of being. Much like those times previous since his arrival. During that first night when he'd lost his temper with Yuliana and others. Or in the Council Chamber when he'd misinterpreted their basic concern as a slight and a challenge to him.

It seemed there was much to his existence that remained unknown to him.

Most fortunate for Tiberius, the timely arrival of the Guardian Overseer provided him with a welcome distraction. Shelving the subject for later, Tiberius turned his focus to her approach.

With a determined stride, Yuliana paid little attention to the villagers as they parted before her. In fact, as Tiberius watched her move, he was given a distinct impression that should have not done so quick enough then Yuliana would have simply trod over them without so much as a glance.

"My lord," the female Guardian stopped and bowed, "As per your instructions, Romulus and Remus have completed the construction of the wall."

"Were there any complications?"

"There was none, sire." Yuliana shook her head. Her tone was one that indicated that she was pleased with their performance in the matter.

"Very well, then let us go see it for ourselves."

Without a word further, Tiberius pivoted, turning away from the Emmot family and the rest of the villagers. Then with the Guardian Overseer in tow, the pair set off to find the lycanthropic brothers.

Overhearing the announcement that the work had been finished, the gathered villagers soon began to trail after the armoured duo. All were eager to see for themselves the sight that waited.

o – o – o – o

The dragonoid stood under the late afternoon sun, his eyes studying the newly constructed wall from behind the face mask of his helmet.

The wooden pilings stood resolutely, their points planted securely within the earth while more had been lashed to act as bracing. Together they formed a line that encompassed the entirety of Carne Village. Over the main road now stood a tall gatehouse, one of two such structures set opposite each other. The large oaken doors were set ajar, and it was here between these doors the brothers, Romulus and Remus, stood waiting.

As to be expected, it seemed the majority of the village inhabitants had come out to inspect this new addition.

"Get a look at that, would you?"

"I must say this is quite a feat," another middle-aged man spoke, "I bet this thing could hold back an ogre."

"Yeah, I'll say," another agreed, then stepped forward before raising his hand and landing several hearty slaps on the wooden structure.

"I just can't believe they finished this whole endeavour in a single day. But I guess this is what magic can do for you."

While the villagers were busied with their gawking, Tiberius left the throng of humans and approached the wolf-born twins.

"I must congratulate the two of you. You've done an impeccable job."

Hearing his master, Romulus placed his hand above his heart and bowed, "Thank you, my lord."

It was a gesture that his brother, Remus, mimicked, "Yeah, thank you."

"I'm also quite pleased to see that you didn't allow any personal grievances to interfere."

At this, the siblings looked to the armoured figure of the dragonoid, expressions of surprise etched upon their features.

"You said it yourself, Lord Tiberius. We're brothers and we'll have our fights," Remus gestured between himself and Romulus, "But we'd never let out little spats get in the way of carrying out your wishes."

"Indeed, my brother is quite correct on the subject. We are but extensions of your will. As such it is only your desires that will hold any sway over us," Remus spoke with a solemn tone.

Tiberius could only shake his head at the werewolf's words. It was a sentiment he'd heard expressed from various NPCs of Týrnaust and to continue to hear such sentiments, it bothered him.

"I'm sorry, Romulus, Remus. But you're wrong."

The lycanthropic sibling's amber eyes widened with shock at their master's words. While their minds floundered, grasping for a means to appease their master.

Striding forward, the dragonoid extended his arms to lay a hand on each of their shoulders.

"I have listened to such words many times now and I tell you what I have told the others. You are so much more than that. All of you are unique, given life by those I call my friends. You are as important to me as you are to them, and as such I know WhiteGnoll would not want to hear you speak so lowly of yourselves."

The brother's expressions grew crestfallen at the admonishment, their wolven ears swept back to lay flat to their scalps and disappeared amongst the strands of similarly coloured hair.

"Please forgive us, Lord Tiberius. We meant no disrespect toward the Supreme Beings."

"Yeah."

Tiberius nodded, "It's all right. But the next time you have such thoughts, just remember my words."

"I shall, my lord."

"So will I."

"Very Good," gently the dragonoid patted the pair's shoulders before removing his hands and letting them fall to his sides.

Not far from the trio stood the Guardian Overseer as she observed. From behind the beautiful façade of her helm's mask, her jade eyes shifted occasionally from watching her master and her fellow Floor Guardians to surveying the human crowd. However, her ears were always focused solely on the dragonoid.

With her sharpened senses, Yuliana heard the dialog that he shared with the werewolf brothers. In doing so she found herself moved by his words, reminding her how blessed the residents of Týrnaust were that he had remained with them. To have not just one of the Creators, but for the Supreme One who stood above all others, show such warmth and care toward those that were their lessers.

It was the moments like this that Yuliana made sure to imprint upon her very soul, to be remembered for all her days and never lost.

"Yuliana," Tiberius called, "Would you contact Nido and have him open a [Gate]? Our business here is finished."

"Of course," came the reply.

"If you wish, you may join Romulus and Remus in returning to the mountain."

The female Guardian shook her head, "I would prefer to remain at your side. And I am certain the brothers share this desire."

"Very well."

The message was sent and a scant moment later the yawning black portal materialized in the open air near the party. With their egress point available, Tiberius gathered the stone golems and commanded them to return.

Seeing the men of animated stone begin to depart, the villagers sent them off with a surprising amount of fanfare. It was unfortunate that such actions were lost upon the golems as they singlemindedly carried out their orders and marched through the waiting gateway.

"I take it you will be leaving now?"

It was Chief Wyllam who spoke as he approached.

"Indeed, but you needn't worry about anything. As I said the village is well defended. But before we do, I wish to tell you that I have already given the blade golems instructions to obey the commands of the village chief. So you may order them about should you need to. I shall also be sending one of my aides to regularly check-in. Should you require anything you may speak to them and they will pass it along to me"

The older man smiled, "Then, again, on behalf of everyone in the village, thank you."

Taking a step back, the village chief bowed deep to the armoured individual. A gesture of respect that was quickly adopted by the rest of the gathered crowd, as all paid homage to their protector and saviour.

Tiberius nodded before turning away, shifting his attention to a group of six that stood apart from the rest. Four humans plus two nonhumans. Rather apparent was the fact that the presence of the bodyguards was off-putting to the other villagers.

The collective gaze of the Emmot family and their guardians tracked the approach of the dragonoid.

"Do you really have to go?" Nemu's saddened tones carried through the air to meet Tiberius.

"Yes, I'm afraid so," he addressed the child, "But I promise to visit again when I can."

Immediately the girl's despondent attitude vanished as she now eagerly awaited his next stopover. With that, Tiberius turned his head and looked at the teenager standing beside the smaller girl. Once again, he was disturbed by the stirring of instincts within him as he set his eyes upon her.

"Do you still have the scroll?"

"Yes," Enri answered.

Her hand eagerly delved into the hidden pocket in her overshirt to retrieve the roll of parchment. Then with it in hand, Enri stretched out her arm to present the scroll as if to return it to its rightful owner.

"Very good," Tiberius held up his hand to decline the offering, "Remember what I said, if you should ever need me. You need only use that scroll and I will come. Until then, keep it safe."

The blonde-haired teen nodded curtly before replacing the scroll in the pocket.

"I, again, want to express my gratitude," the girls' father was the next to speak, "For all the compassion you have bestowed upon my family."

"Look after them."

Shifting, the dragonoid turned his focus to the pair of mercenary NPCs that stood waiting.

"Jaeger, Chase," he sounded the newly anointed names of the family's guardians on his tongue, "I entrust their safety to you."

The two astral hunters bowed their heads, "We understand and shall not fail you, master."

As before the sound of the harsh gravelly voices brought about obvious discomfort to the gathered humans. But similarly, Nemu remained unaffected by the sound and instead only smiled.

It was a sight that made Tiberius wonder just what sorts of thoughts were going through the child's mind. However, those mysteries were for the girl's parents to uncover. So it was with a final farewell, he turned and with the three Floor Guardians, made their way toward the waiting portal.

o – o – o – o

Near-instantly the familiar ambiance of the Týrnaust registered to the dragonoid's senses as the world around him materialized. Before his eyes, the white marble of the Pinnacle stretched out before him, and beyond that lay the towering structure of the Rotunda sat above the stairs as if on a pedestal.

"Welcome home, my lord."

The celebratory chorus rang out no sooner than he had emerged from the portal. It was the same greeting he'd received after every venture from the mountain.

With practiced ease, the dragonoid reached up and removed the wolven-shaped helmet before returning it to the pocket dimension of his inventory. His human head swiveled and his steely blue eyes surveyed the assembled NPCs.

As to be expected the Valkyries stood before him, again seeming to serve as the unofficial cheer squad for Týrnaust. Gathered together, their faces shone with excitement tinged with relief at his return to the mountain. One amongst them did manage to catch his eye. It was Ryoko, the Kitsune, for she sported a smile that bore a striking resemblance to the smile which young Nemu had worn. While behind, her seven fox tails fanned out and waved excitedly as a puppy would upon greeting its owner.

"It is good to be back."

"Yeah, you got that right."

The shaggy-haired werewolf's comment earned him a quick elbow jab to the ribs. This in turn caused Remus to give his sibling a sharp glare for his actions. However, Romulus seemed none too bothered by this and simply stared ahead and cleared his throat. A sort of coded message shared between the two, and it was a message that Remus soon grasped the meaning of.

"Oh! Uhh, you got that right, sire."

Hearing his brother's correction, Romulus shook his head with a small sigh before he shrugged.

"Would you require anything else of us, my liege?"

"No, Romulus," Tiberius answered, "You and your brother are free to do as you wish. Again, I wish to congratulate you both on a job well done."

Receiving another bout of compliments from their master, the werewolves shared a childlike smile. Their wolven ears were held erect atop their heads and their amber eyes seemed to twinkle. As he looked at the pair, Tiberius swore that if they had possessed tails they would've been wagging a mile-a-minute.

Then with a bow, Romulus and Remus pivoted and departed for their home on the third floor.

As Tiberius watched them leave, an interruption came in the form of another.

"Lord Tiberius, Lady Yuliana" the low tones of the Chief Attendant reached his ears, "I beg your pardon, but I bring word from Naagoth."

"Oh." It was a response that held a muted surprise, as it seemed in busying himself with the affairs of Carne Village he had seemingly forgotten about the impending interrogation. "And what does the Warden have to report?"

"He has finished preparing the lead prisoner and believes that he is ready for the questioning."

The dragonoid pivoted to face the fae butler, and in doing so he caught sight of another individual standing alone on the balcony staring out at the horizon.

"Very well, inform Naagoth that I will arrive shortly."

"As you wish, my lord."

With a nod, Tiberius moved away, leaving the Guardian Overseer and the Chief attendant behind as he strode to join the lone figure on the balcony's edge.

"Yuvonkiir."

The humanoid dragon turned on his heel and upon seeing his master's approach fell to his knees without hesitation.

"Creator, do forgive me for not welcoming you with the others. I became distracted, it shall not happen again."

"It's quite all right, Yuvonkiir. You're still getting used to being out and about the mountain. Now, please rise."

With his head still downcast, the transformed dragon slowly rose to stand before his creator.

Taking notice of the expression he wore, Tiberius questioned him, "Is everything all right?"

"It is nothing to be concerned about."

In the silence that followed, Tiberius pushed the question with a resolute interrogative stare.

"It's just that your appearance, it…"

"You don't like my human form?"

"N-no, no, my creator. It's only that I haven't seen it before and am not accustomed to such a sight. I swear it."

The human form dragonoid responded with a lighthearted chortle. Then with a smile triggered the magic which initiated his transformation and reverted to his customary reptilian visage. With the return of form came the familiarity that put the dragon at ease as his body let go of any lingering tension. Now he lifted his head and freely gazed at the golden-scaled dragonoid.

"So, Yuvonkiir, how are you adjusting to being outside of the Grand Treasury? I do hope the others have continued to be accommodating to you."

"Yes, those I have encountered in my wanderings have been most welcoming. Though things out here are… strange."

Tiberius cocked his head in curiosity, "Strange? How so?"

"Often I find myself feeling crowded, even with so few around me." Yuvonkiir turned, shifting his golden eyes to again stare out into the distance. "And this lack of walls," he gestured to the world around him, "Has been disconcerting. But I am adjusting."

For a time, the dragonoid merely gazed at Yuvonkiir, unsure of what to say so that he may lighten his anxieties. However, as something did come to his mind, the dragon spoke.

"Creator, if I may, I would like to return to the mountain's vault."

Tiberius did not need to think about the Guardian's request. This was all a new experience for the dragon and it would still take some time for him to get settled in.

"Of course, you may, Yuvonkiir. I understand."

"I thank you, my creator," the dragon performed a deep bow before he turned and departed.

"Yuvonkiir," Tiberius called out, causing the Vault Guardian to pause and look back, "Remember that should you need anything. You need only to speak to me."

Yuvonkiir bowed his head in gratitude before continuing his stride toward the stairwell and the waiting treasury.

In watching the dragon leave, Tiberius sighed, thoughts turning to the circumstances of the Vault Guardian's living conditions.

I'm sorry, Yuvonkiir. After spending so much time in the treasury, it's no wonder that he's having difficulty adapting to being outside. If I'd known any of this could happen, I would have placed some other NPCs in the vault to keep him company. Or maybe I'd have changed the walls to give more of a vista view. Might've been more pleasant to look at than those plain stone walls.

He shook his head.

But nothing I can do about that now. I guess all I can do is encourage him.

The dragonoid shifted, casting a final glance to the forest which stretched leagues out before the mountain. Its greenery was illuminated by the red-orange of the setting afternoon sun. Pivoting on his heel, Tiberius nearly jumped in shock when he came face to face with Yuliana.

The Guardian Overseer stood roughly a foot or so in front of him. She was still garbed in her armour and likewise had removed her helm. That she had managed to approach him undetected despite this, spoke to her skill or perhaps to his level of distraction.

At play on her features, a wide smile and her eyes seemed to twinkle in the light as she stared at him.

"Oh, uh, Yuliana… Is something on your mind?"

"No, my lord."

The glimmer in her eye told him otherwise.

"Well, then, would you care to aid me in questioning the prisoners?"

"Of course."

Tiberius regarded the eagerness of her reply as an oddity for a moment, but that was soon cast aside. Then together the pair turned and strode to the stairwell at the center of the Pinnacle Plaza.

o – o – o – o

Upon arriving at the teleport point of The Abyss, the Fifth Floor of Týrnaust, Tiberius, and Yuliana beheld the sprawling expanse that lay before them.

In a grand display of darkness and dread, they found themselves on The Abyss, the Fifth Floor of Týrnaust, designed to resemble the infernal realm of the underworld itself. Here, rivers of molten lava flowed through channels in char-blackened earth, casting an eerie glow upon the surroundings. Geysers erupted, releasing clouds of sulfurous gases, and gouts of green hellfire burst forth from ominous cracks in the ground. The landscape was strewn with skeletal trees, their twisted trunks and gnarled limbs adorned with countless poison-dripping thorns. Instead of leaves, shrunken heads dangled, swaying ominously in the nonexistent breeze, with purple flames dancing in their empty eye sockets.

Beyond the edge of the floor, jagged cliffs encircled the space, serving as perches for winged devils and demons, waiting to pounce upon unsuspecting intruders with ruthless attacks. Larger, more monstrous creatures roamed the wastes, perpetually on the hunt for prey.

Above, the skybox loomed with turbulent, thick jet-black clouds, occasionally unleashing bolts of crimson lightning, dealing devastating damage to anyone unlucky enough to be in its path. Direct strikes from these energized bolts would bestow burn and shock debuffs, further adding to the torment. To make matters worse, acid rain fell from the sky, corroding armour and weapons, and relentlessly wearing away their durability.

This perilous landscape was a true vision of the infernal realm, daring the intrepid souls who traversed it to face the wrath of its dark forces and endure the treacherous trials that lay ahead.

Within the infernal landscape, two major landmarks stood as harbingers of terror and torment.

The most prominent among them was The Iron Citadel, a monolithic tower forged from sinister black iron, etched with motifs depicting countless nightmarish punishments. Among the haunting engravings were the wailing faces of the damned, covering the walls and filling the air with an eerie melody of their cries.

Inside the imposing structure, an unsettling coldness prevailed, shrouding the space in near silence – an eerie contrast to the oppressively heated and sorrow-filled air outside. The interior was adorned with statues of previous victims, serving as macabre reminders of those who had met their tragic ends on this dreadful floor. Some of these statues were arranged with uncanny precision, supporting the high ceilings in place of traditional columns, but all were posed in grotesque spectacles of pain and torment.

It was within this foreboding and chilling abode that the Fifth Floor Guardian, Koraboros, resided, accompanied by his sinister servants, awaiting any who dared to challenge his dominion.

The second noteworthy location, though of lesser significance, was The Tartarus Pits. Situated along the southeastern edge of the fifth floor, its design resembled an inverted pyramid tunneling deep into the earth. The entrance was marked only by a set of gates preceding a slanted tunnel. Inside the pyramid, a harrowing division into nine layers awaited, each level increasing the intensity of punishment.

The lowest level, in particular, housed the most dreadful torment. Referred to as the black cells, it was a place of absolute sensory deprivation. The chambers were enchanted with powerful magics that nullified all stimuli. Sight, sound, touch, and even thermoception were all stripped away, leaving the occupants floating blindly through the darkness without the presence of gravity.

In this bleak abyss, the prisoners were utterly deprived of their essential senses, left only with their own thoughts as their tormentors. The Tartarus Pits served as a nightmarish realm of punishment, designed to break even the strongest spirits and subject them to an eternity of isolation and despair.

Of all the additions to Týrnaust, the pits were perhaps amongst the newest. It had come into being with the release of one of YGGDRASIL's many content expansions.

The inclusion of a specific pack in the game brought about exciting possibilities, introducing custom NPCs and fresh gameplay elements. One of the most notable additions was the ability to create thralls from NPCs scattered throughout the nine realms.

To accomplish this, players needed to locate and capture an NPC of their choosing. Once captured, they would bring the NPC back to their guild headquarters and imprison them, gradually breaking down their resistance. The developers ingeniously made this new content essential for quest progression, offering players incentives to participate. Among the rewards, players could gain valuable skills from the soon-to-be thralls. Moreover, there were other benefits, such as obtaining crucial information from these thralls. Clues could lead to hidden treasure hoards or the discovery of long-forgotten dungeons, adding an extra layer of intrigue to the game.

Among all the floors, this was the only one that Tiberius held some degree of dislike for. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the chosen aesthetics that he did not care for. That's why he opted for the teleport location closest to the subterranean prison. Setting a brisk pace, he led them quickly to the entrance.

Unassuming gates of heat-tarnished metal set in a stone archway, above which was an inscription of some sort. It was an ancient script, Latin or something akin, and unfortunately, the dragonoid was unable to recall its meaning. All that he could remember of it was that it was a quote from some old book which had been partially responsible for Týrnaust's current design layout.

I don't recall if there is a key. Or some kind of password perhaps.

Yet as Tiberius focused on this barrier to entry, the blackened metal shuddered and began to move. The low groaning squeak of the door hinges was one of tortured agony as if even they were not free of torment.

Without a second thought on the matter, the dragonoid and his escort entered the hall that lay beyond.

Following the gradual slant of the stairs, the two descended into the prison proper, and here on the first level stood the waiting warden, Naagoth. His slick lavender-coloured skin was illuminated by the cool blue of the magical lights which lined the walls.

"Welcome, Lord Tiberius and Lady Yuliana."

Naagoth greeted them with a deep bow and exaggerated flaring of his arms.

It was a strange experience to hear the being's voice echoing within his mind. It was a sensation not unlike when he had used the [Message] spell. However, this was possessed by a subtle undercurrent.

"Ah, Naagoth. I trust you fair well?"

"Indeed, I am."

"And the prisoners?"

"The prisoners have fared as well as could be expected. I do believe you will find them most pliant to your questions. However, before you proceed master. I must inform you of a discovery I have made with their regards."

Though the dragonoid could not see the mind flayer's mouth behind the forest of tentacles. Tiberius was sure that he was smiling when he spoke.

"Oh, just what have you uncovered?"

Naagoth hesitated, "In the course of preparing the humans, I inadvertently learnt that prior to their arrival here. Someone has tampered with their minds."

This piqued the dragonoid's interest.

"What do you mean? How have they been tampered with?"

"It appears a barrier has been placed upon their memories limiting my access to it. However, I do not believe it would be limiting to the subject's ability to recall."

"Very well, Naagoth. Let us see how this plays out."

The mind flayer bowed once more before pivoting, his robes fluttered as he levitated above the ground and began to float down the hall with Tiberius and Yuliana following.

Down and down the trio strode passing through level after level of heavily Gothic-influenced architecture. Finally, the small group came to a stop before a metal iris that served as the keeper to the chamber and the prisoner within. Extending his lengthy arm, Naagoth waved his hand before the door. Immediately the blades began to separate as the opening began to dilate and allow their passing.

Crossing the threshold the three entered the dimly lit room. However, for the trio of heteromorphs with their dark vision ability, the room may as well have been lit by the noonday sun.

Lazily the dragonoid's gaze drifted about the room, examining its contents.

The circle room was ringed by tables carved from the same stone as the walls were fashioned from. Lying scattered across the surfaces was an impressively wide array of what looked to be medical equipment. Things such as scalpels, forceps, tweezers of various lengths, and syringes –filled with a variety of coloured liquids–. Yet those were the obvious implements, there were others there he did not recognize.

Atop the table, there was something that looked like a mechanical spider with legs made from multiple pairs of fused scissors. Nearby sat a pear-shaped object crafted from numerous wedges with retractable blades between each. Then there was a hand crank that looked to be attached to a bendy straw with vicious-looking claws on its end.

Altogether the room had all the trimmings of a proper torture chamber. Without a doubt, any one of these instruments could be used to coerce information from a person.

At the center of the space sat a heavy pedestal supporting a heavy metal slab of a table, and resting atop it was the prisoner. The man's clothing was disheveled and his face was lax as he stared out at the chamber with vacant eyes. Such was the other's expression that in looking at him Tiberius was left to wonder if this man was even living.

"He is alive?"

"Oh yes, he is only unconscious," Naagoth gestured toward the prone human, "It is only for his incessant cries were most… irritating."

"Revive him."

The mind flayer nodded. Turning he extended a spindly limb and held his opened palm just above the man's face. Like hit by a jolt of electricity, the man's body shuddered softly at first before erupting into a full seizure. His face tightened, jaw clenched, and the muscles of his neck bulged. Then, through clenched teeth, a great wail was ushered up from deep in his throat before trailing off into a sputtering whimper, and the man's once vacant eyes were now widened with a fearful gaze.

From whatever dark recesses of nightmares Nigun's conscious mind had been banished was returned to his body. Disorientated, he could only stare up at the strange hand over him before his gaze began to wander the room around him.

It wasn't long before his gaze settled upon the form of his inhuman tormentor. The sight of the tentacled-faced being sent shivers down his spine as he recoiled instinctively and opened his mouth to scream.

However, this was countered when the cephalopodic creature raised its spiderlike hand and performed a pincer-like gesture.

Immediately, Nigun felt as though there was tremendous pressure being exerted on his throat.

"Silence human! I have listened to enough of your inane shrieks this day."

Nigun's face began to grow red beneath the strain of whatever power held sway over his body. Only when he managed to meek and barely perceivable nod that his tormentor lower their hand and release him from their hold. The former leader of the Sunlight Scripture went lax on the metal slab, his breathing coming to him in ragged gasps.

"N-n-no more," the man whimpered.

"Oh, but we must little human. My master wishes to have a dialog with you. Limited as it may be with your addled mind."

"Y-your master?" the blonde-haired prisoner swallowed hard. His unnaturally dark eyes again surveyed the room.

From the head of the slab table, Tiberius looked on as the man carried out his futile search and experienced a sense of satisfaction.

"Where has all that bluster gone?"

As the baritone voice rang out, Nigun tried to move and yet found himself unable. He was still held by the same unseen force as before. But still, he struggled to turn his head, to see this speaker.

A series of clacks echoed through the air, a signal that something or someone was moving. As the sounds traveled, so did he move his head in an attempt to glimpse this individual. Unfortunately, they remained outside the ring of light and though his eyes strained they could not pierce the darkness beyond.

However, a figure slowly emerged from the shadow.

The most noticeable was the towering height this individual possessed, with an equally robust build. Then as they crossed the boundary between light and shadow all was revealed to the human's gaze.

Fully beneath the light, a horned predatory reptilian visage loomed over him and stared down at him with intense flame-coloured eyes. As it did so, the lips parted into an almost sneer, revealing the dagger-like teeth that hid behind.

Gazing up at this golden-scaled being, Nigun trembled as he felt the full weight of their presence bear down on him. It was an intense feeling that commanded his attention no matter how he may try to look away.

"You had plenty to say when last we met."

Nigun was taken aback by the statement, "Met?! W-ho, what are you?! I've never met such a monster as you!"

The silence which followed was perhaps the briefest to have ever existed. For no soon had he spoken than a sharp crack filled the air and the man howled in pain.

Straightaway Tiberius' focus was stolen away from the prisoner by this. His head swiveled and his eyes directed toward the slab's foot.

Here at the far end of the table stood the Guardian Overseer.

Gone was the gentle demeanor that she so often donned and now upon her features was a dour expression. Her eyes were narrowed to slits as she glared down at the human laid out on the metal table. Before her was the source of the man's agony, his foot now sat with his toes pointing toward the floor, reversed as it was.

The story here was clear.

In listening to the prisoner's insults, Yuliana had been provoked to action. Striding forward, she had taken the man's left foot in hand and twisted it. With a calculated fury, she had harshly manipulated the limb's ability to rotate, snapping bones like twigs and tearing tendons with ease.

"How dare you utter such an affront toward the highest of the Creators! To the being who had deigned to bestow mercy on as worthless a wretch like yourself. If it were not for your perceived value, I would see that your existence becomes one of unending torment!"

Throughout her tirade against the mewling man, the female Guardian had not released her hold on the man's foot. Before she could do any further harm, the dragonoid began to move. Not in haste nor in anger and in the span of a single stride Tiberius arrived at Yuliana's side.

Reaching out, he laid his large hands softly atop Yuliana's own.

So focused on the target of her anger that this gentle gesture did much to take the female Guardian by surprise. Yuliana looked at his draconic visage, her almond-shaped eyes widening, making her eyes appear larger and more like pools of jade. Slowly she released the man's foot from her grasp, pulling her hands back yet not free of the dragonoid's soft touch.

"Forgive me, Lord Tiberius. I acted without thinking."

"You needn't ask, Yuliana, I understand your reasons. Though I did not command it, you were nonetheless following the guild's tenets."

Closing his eyes, the dragonoid began to recite a portion of the guild's credo.

"Guard the honour of thy fellow knights." Tiberius reopened his eyes and looked at the Guardian Overseer. "And that you have. As you always do. So again, you have done nothing wrong. Although you might have been a bit forceful."

Yuliana nodded softly before she withdrew her hands from his and took a step back from the prisoner on the table.

Returning his attention to the slab, Tiberius stared down at the mage pitifully weeping. Tears flowed freely from the corners of his eyes, even a thin line of mucus had begun to drip from his nostrils bemoaned like a wounded animal.

"[Heal]."

A soft green glow emanated from the dragonoid's hand to envelop the prisoner.

Soon enough Nigun's mewling cries lessened as the pain from his broken ankle ebbed. The once fragmented bone was reformed and tendons knitted themselves while his foot reoriented itself to its rightful position.

With the spell's effect completed, the dragonoid slowly strode along the side of the table and returned to stand at the prisoner's flank.

"Now then where were we," from the proximity, Nigun felt the deep rumble of the dragonoid's voice, "Ah yes, as I mentioned, you and I have indeed met before. Though at the time, you were still with your men and doing battle with the Kingdom's soldiers."

Nigun froze at the mention of the battle. Staring up at the massive reptile that loomed over him, the theocracy mage studied the other with his black eyes. As he focused on the draconic creature, his eyes were drawn to the gleam of silver.

The armour.

The now former captain of the Sunlight Scripture scanned over the armour, recognizing its unique styling. Then like a biblical flood, his memories came back to crash over him. He knew that armour for he'd seen it before on that blasted adventurer who…

Nigun's eyes grew so wide they appeared akin to soot-blackened saucers.

"I-it's you!"

A predatory grin spread across Tiberius' draconic visage.

"It is good to see your memory has returned to you," the dragonoid paused, letting the moment sink into the man's consciousness, "I have some questions for you and I will expect an answer."

Fresh perspiration escaped from the blonde mage's pores, "Yes, yes! Of course, I'll tell you anything you wish," he answered enthusiastically and with haste, "Just please, let me go."

The dragonoid's lips parted to form a vicious snarl. Accompanying the change in demeanor, a deep foreboding growl was ushered from within him.

"Let you go!" he roared at the audacity of the suggestion, "Why should I ever do such a thing? Were you willing to let the Warrior-Captain and his soldiers go? Should I grant you the same freedom that I had planned to give a village of innocents? You called me a monster, but the only monster here is you!"

Though his instincts called for the dragonoid to eviscerate the man before him. Tiberius wrangled his urges back from this edge. Drawing back from the terrified man, he recomposed himself before continuing.

"No, you are in no position to request anything." With the return of his calm, Tiberius' voice was once again a mellow reverb, "So you shall receive nothing but what I deem is deserved. Do you understand?"

Nigun remained silent, merely staring up at the draconic creature looming over him.

To cure this inaction, Tiberius extended his arm and cupped the man's lower jaw in his palm. Causing the man to flinch as he felt the points of his talons pricking into the skin of his temples, drawing out pin-sized droplets of crimson. At this, Nigun frantically nodded, or at least he tried with the limited amount of freedom allotted to him. Pleased with this, Tiberius released the hold and withdrew.

"First question: Why did you attack Carne Village?"

"T-they were bait. A necessary sacrifice, nothing more."

Such a vague answer did not satisfy the dragonoid. Turning his flame-coloured eyes to the silent mind flayer waiting on the opposite side of the slab. Naagoth read the meaning behind his master's gaze without needing to be told and raised his arm.

In an instant, every nerve throughout Nigun's body screamed out in pain. It felt as if he'd just been plunged into ice water while simultaneously being stuck with thousands of white-hot needles. The mage yelled and thrashed against his invisible bonds as he desperately sought an escape from the agony that engulfed his flesh.

A sharp jerk of dragonoid's head was all the signal Naagoth needed and ceased his psionic assault.

"Consider this but a taste of what you put the villagers through. Now then, tell me, why did you target the Warrior-Captain Gazef Stronoff?"

Nigun wheezed, his breathing coming to him in rapid gasps, "I-I don't know. We were only following the commands we had been given by the Cardinals."

Again, Tiberius gestured to the mind flayer.

And again, Nigun convulsed upon the table. His body freezing and burning at the same time, while muscles spasmed in the psychically induced seizure. For nearly two minutes, the man writhed on the table before his suffering was lessened.

"Even if that is true. Surely you have your own thoughts on the matter. So I ask again, why did you go after Gazef Stronoff?"

"T-t-t-the K-Kingdom… Re-Estize is weak and rife with corruption. S-Stronoff is their only true source of military might. A center point of their defenses. If he falls, the Kingdom will be an easy target."

Tiberius listened to the man's words, inclining his head and thumbed his chin. If what he said was true then it would make sense to eliminate the Warrior-Captain. However, those were political matters which did not concern the dragonoid. Instead, his interest lay somewhere in more relevant areas.

"The angels you commanded, the spells you wielded. Where did you learn to use them? And that crystal which you possessed, where did you get it?"

"I…"

Nigun did not finish, his voice abruptly cut off.

The once mewling yet collected blonde mage now shook and thrashed violently, as if suffering another wave from the mind flayer's merciless assault. Planting his feet firmly on the slab and bracing his head against the cool surface, he arched his back high, contorting his body in agony. His once pale flesh rapidly transformed into an ashen grey before cracking like a dry riverbed. Steam seemed to escape from the numerous seams in his flesh, as if he was burning from the inside out. The now grey skin started to flake and peel, revealing a ghastly spectacle that defied belief.

Muscles in Nigun's face grew taut, warping his features into an unearthly grimace of unbearable pain. His unnaturally dark eyes widened with terror, staring into an abyss of suffering. Tears of blood streamed from the corners of his eyes, leaving streaks of red in their wake as they rolled down his disfigured skin. Amidst his torment, he screamed and howled beyond the point of his throat growing hoarse and raw.

The scene was a nightmarish display of a body under siege, a soul in torment, and a mind on the brink of shattering.

Then as quick as the attack had come upon him. It stopped.

Nigun's body remained frozen in its arching position in the aftermath. In the eerie silence of the chamber, only a soft crackling sound filled the air.

Baffled by the unexpected turn of events, Tiberius' flame-coloured eyes scanned the man's body. With caution, he extended his arm and gently prodded at the mage. To his astonishment, the once solid form gave way like a sandcastle yielding to water. Both clothing and flesh crumbled into fine grey powder, until nothing remained but an uneven pile spread across the tabletop. The mage had vanished, leaving behind only remnants of what once was.

Stupified the dragonoid shifted, turning his gaze toward the Warden of Tartarus.

"What is the meaning of this? What happened?" he snapped.

The cephalopod-like creature shook his head, the tentacles upon his face whipped back and forth with the rapid movement.

"I do not know, my lord."

Tiberius eyed the mind flayer, searching for any hint of possible deception. But he knew better, the NPCs of Týrnaust could not lie to him. So he turned his focus back to the metal examination table and anger again welled up within him. Unable to contain it, this time the dragonoid chose to release it. Balling a fist, he brought it down on the metal surface. On impact, the powdered remains were sent airborne, and a sizable deformation in the once smooth lay beneath his fist.

Damn it! Just what the hell was that?

Exhaling slowly, the dragonoid let go of his frustration and straightened himself up. Tiberius took a deep breath as he turned his eyes to the table and directed his thoughts back to what had just happened.

That has to have been caused by magic. And it didn't look like any spell effect that I'm familiar with. So I guess like those martial arts that Gazef was using, there must be magic that is unique to this world. But what triggered it?

For a time Tiberius wondered if perhaps it had been caused by an item that the mage had carried on his person. However, that could not be, for he had been searched thoroughly and any items taken from him. Even his clothing had been scrutinized for enchantments and turned up nothing. So if that was not the case then it meant that the spell had been placed upon him directly. And it was with this thought that some stray bit of information seemed to form a link in his mind.

"Naagoth," the dragonoid shifted his gaze to the mind flayer, "You mentioned that the prisoner's mind had been tampered with. Could have been done through mental training? Perhaps done to allow him some form of resistance?"

"I am certain that this was not the case, Lord Tiberius. When I probed the human's mind, he was unable to offer up any resistance to me. And I did not find evidence of him receiving any sort of mental fortification. As you saw, this individual was pliant and easy to manipulate within the lines of questioning."

"My lord, are you suggesting that the prisoner had been placed under some form of magic? A curse?"

"Indeed," Tiberius nodded and glanced at the Guardian Overseer, "That would be my guess. Whether by choice or without his knowledge, a spell had been cast on him. Perhaps it was intended to act as some sort of leash to keep him from going against orders. Or maybe it was a safeguard to thwart interrogation in case of capture."

Tiberius shrugged.

If that is true, then what is the trigger for the activation of the curse? Was it something specific, like a certain topic that brought it on? Or perhaps it was just like a fuse that was lit as soon as he started answering questions.

However, there was another option. A prospect that would have terrible implications should it be true.

Or what if it was controlled? What if someone was monitoring him and then chose that exact moment to have him… decommissioned?

Was it possible?

After all, during his encounter with those mages attacking the Warrior-Captain, someone had been using divination magic to observe. He was certain of this as it had been enough to trigger his passive defense skill.

With this thought in mind, the dragonoid hastily turned to the Guardian Overseer.

"Yuliana, contact Nido immediately. I want to know if there has been any attempt to breach Týrnaust's defenses. Was there any kind of detectable link between the prisoner and anyone outside the mountain?"

Without a moment's hesitation, the female Guardian sprang into action. Through the utilization of the [Message] spell, Yuliana made contact with the Premier Diviner. Not the time to mince words the conversation between the pair was short and their words concise.

When finished, Yuliana regarded her master with a serious expression.

"My lord, Nido reports Týrnaust's barriers remain undisrupted and there have been no intrusions beyond the barriers. Shall we raise the mountain's alert status?"

The dragonoid did not answer directly and instead considered the limited information that he had on hand.

Well, that's a relief. Although it could also just mean that they can circumvent our defenses without detection if they're using something unique and unknown to us. Damn it, there are just too many unknowns.

Yet a plan began to take shape within his mind. A way to shine a light on these and perhaps transform them into the known.

"Naagoth, I want you to collect the other two prisoners and bring them to me." Tiberius turned to face the room's other occupants, "Yuliana, inform Nido to remain vigilant."

"My lord, he wishes to ask as to what should he be looking for?"

"Given the timing of our prisoner's expiration. There stands the possibility that someone has been monitoring him and chose to act to stop him from speaking."

"I see," Yuliana nodded, "Then I shall inform him promptly."

Several minutes ticked by before the metallic scraping of the dilating iris heralded the return of the Warden of Tartarus. The mind flayer glided through the opening and behind him, however, was but a single prisoner. The man was unconscious and suspended in the air, held there by whatever telekinetic power Naagoth possessed.

"Naagoth, what is the meaning of this?" the Guardian Overseer questioned, "Did the master not command you to fetch both the remaining prisoners?" she gestured to the man whose body was stiff as a board as he floated in the air, "Yet, you have returned with not two but one."

The tentacled NPC lowered his head in shame, his body immediately adopting a submissive posture.

"Please forgive me, master. However, as I made to retrieve the third prisoner, I found him unresponsive to my mental prodding."

"How so?"

"It appears the conditions within the lowest level was too much for the fragile state of his mind. As such it seems, he had lapsed into a vegetative state."

"Can you not resuscitate him?"

The mind flayer shook his tentacled head, "His mind has fragmented under the strain, and was it under ordinary circumstances there would be no difficulty in reassembling the pieces. Unfortunately, interference comes from the same form of tampering which bewitched the first prisoner."

Tiberius eyed the unconscious levitated man. His glassy-eyed stare and overall zombie-like demeanor were heavily reminiscent of the former prisoner.

"Unfortunate. So be it then, prepare him."

The mind flayer nodded and performed a sweeping gesture. Behind him, the insentient man flowed through the air as if carried by an unseen gurney. When he reached the examination table, the man slid without issue onto the smooth metal surface and there he lay numb to the world.

As the prisoner lay on the table, Tiberius eyed him over as he tried to decide on just what the next course of action should be.

So how should we progress from here? Should I attempt to undo the magic they used on this guy? Or should I use him as bait and see if anyone is really monitoring these men? Now I wish we had taken more of those men captive.

He groaned.

It doesn't matter now. The safety of Týrnaust and all within take priority.

With his decision made, Tiberius spoke, "Wake him."

The mind flayer withdrew his domination of the mage's mental faculties and the human's body, once stiff as a board went limp. However, gradually as the control of his motor functions returned to the mage, he left the realm of the subconscious and was propelled back into the waking world.

The dark-haired man groaned, his eyelids fluttered and he squinted as he stared up at the light shining down on him. To avoid this light, the theocracy soldier attempted to raise his arm only to find himself unable. Startled by this development the dark-haired mage's eyes were drawn down to his body as he tried to move again.

"It would be advisable if you did not do that. Indeed, I would prefer you in a more cooperative manner."

At the sound of the strange voice, the mage called a halt to his brief struggle and his brown eyes widened as he sought out the speaker. It wasn't long before his gaze settled upon the mind flayer.

In what followed his actions contrasted greatly with those of his former commander. This man steeled his nerve, clenched his jaw, and stared at the tentacled being. Perhaps he was unable to fully comprehend his situation. Maybe his fear was getting the better of him and he had simply shut down.

Either way, it didn't matter.

"What do you want me, creature?!" the man spat the question out with all the vitriol he could muster.

"It's a simple matter, you will answer the questions that your commander was unable to."

The man's head turned 180 degrees as his eyes fell on the dragonoid speaker.

"I'll never answer to the likes of you."

He was keenly aware of the reaction that this man's outburst would provoke, particularly from the female to his right. The dragonoid held out his arm preemptively to stall any action on her part. For several moments he kept his eye on Yuliana and when he felt assured that there would be no outburst, Tiberius turned his attention back to the captive.

"Seeing as you're here, I'll offer you a choice. We can have a discussion as civilized individuals. Or you can learn what defiance earns."

"I don't believe your lies." The human mage laid his head back against the metal beneath him. He closed his eyes as the hint of a smirk played at the corners of his mouth. "You may wear the trappings of civility but I can smell the foul stench of savagery on you. You will get nothing from me."

"Hmmph, I will commend you. You are certainly braver than your commander. However…"

Before the mage could prepare a retort, a sudden and intense pain exploded from within his skull. It was as if a heavy mallet was driving a burning stake into his head while simultaneously a vice was ever tightening its grip on his temples. Accompanying this was the constant shrieking chirp like that of an insect but only in a chorus of endless legions.

Then as the agony, the pressure, and the screeching choir reached its crescendo, it stopped. Vanishing entirely.

Though he was breathing heavily, the mage felt as though he could never catch his breath. His mind was swimming in a fog of lightheadedness causing the world around him to appear warped and blurred. All the while the terrible throbbing of headache put any post-celebratory hangover he'd ever had to shame.

"That is but a small taste of what awaits your noncooperation," Tiberius warned, "So, the Sealing Crystal your leader possessed. Where did he acquire it?"

Beneath the threat, the mage remained silent.

As the silence continued, the dragonoid moved with a casual stride to stand at the foot of the slab. During his short journey, Tiberius' fiery gaze never wavered, and still, the dark-haired man persisted in his tight-lippedness. It seemed his assumption was affirmed, this man possessed a far stronger constitution than that of the other.

Commendable, if foolhardy.

"So be it."

The dragonoid lifted an arm and gestured to the waiting Naagoth.

At his master's urging, the warden pivoted toward a nearby shelf, the loose cloth of his garb fluttered as he did so. With his usual smooth gliding motion Naagoth reached the shelf and retrieved two narrow vials from a wooden rack with a six-fingered hand.

Anxiously the mage watched the tentacled monstrosity return to his side. To his continued astonishment, the creature performed a sweeping gesture over him with its unoccupied hand and his robe parted to expose his chest. At this, the mage again attempted to struggle, only to find he was still held just as tightly.

With the use of one of his many tentacles, Naagoth removed the rubber stopper from a vial. Then he extended his arm, and slowly tipped the glass ampule to its side.

From the rounded lip a liquid, sickly yellow-green in colour and with the consistency of runny eggs, poured forth onto the man's torso. The unknown slime-like substance spread slowly across his bare skin creating a myriad of thin trails. Soon after there was a sound like the quiet sizzling hiss like water touching a heated pan. Then faint wisps of smoke started to waft up from the goop, bringing with it the unpleasant aroma of burning flesh.

The mage clenched his jaw, his face turned red and the muscles of his neck became visible in the strain, as he stared down at his unprotected abdomen. With each surge of the mounting pain, a tremor would pass through his body making his muscles quiver.

Around the liquid, the skin had started to blacken and send out a spider web of tendrils as it spread. Along these tendrils, blister-like pustules formed and grew larger and larger until they popped. Their eruptions let loose rivulets of thick pus-infused blood ooze across his body.

That the mage seemed to somehow be holding himself together under this onslaught of agony was impressive. But this could only last so long as the pain continued to radiate throughout his form. Finally, he cried out, giving voice to his painful experience.

"Where did he get the crystal?"

"F-from the Cardinals," the reply escaped the mage's mouth through clenched teeth, "It was only to be used as a last resort."

The mind flayer plugged the small glass vessel with its rubber cork before passing it off to one of his facial tentacles. Naagoth then produced the second vial he had procured from the rack and in a similar fashion pulled the stopper from the end. Tilting the vial, he allowed only a single drop of the red liquid to slip out over the rim.

The droplet fell straight down and impacted the already present yellow-green slime. On contact with the other liquid, an immediate change took place. A shimmer of red spread through its mass and soon after relief for the mage. His body relaxed against the slab of the examination table as the pain subsided.

"Very good. Answers bring rewards."

The dragonoid leaned forward, placing his hands on the cool metal surface.

"How did the Cardinals get their hands on the crystal?

"I-I don't know."

"Captain Nigun said that Re-Estize was to be made an easy target without the Warrior-Captain. Is the theocracy planning to attack the Kingdom?"

"I don't know," the man repeated.

Tiberius growled in agitation for the lack of forthcoming answers, "The angels, then. Where did you learn to summon them?"

The dark-haired mage opened to speak but uttered only a hoarse gasp. This strange response prompted the dragonoid to more closely examine him. It was as he met the man's gaze that Tiberius witnessed the whites of his eyes clouding over with red.

It was a scene not unlike that which Tiberius had already borne witness to.

Flesh soon paled before splitting as cracks spread across the prisoner's exposed tissue. His breathing became a strangled gasp as the mage choked on a nonexistent blockage. Then the seizures came and his body thrashed upon the table uncontrollably.

Tiberius turned quickly to the Guardian Overseer, "Yuliana, is there any word from Nido? Is he able to detect any sort of connection?"

With an expression of seriousness, she shook her head.

"No, my lord. He continues to report that the mountain's defenses remain unchanged."

"And you, Naagoth. Can you discern anything within his mind?"

The cephalopod-like NPC shifted, aiming his focused mind on the dying man and with his mental prowess probed at the now-fading individual.

"Nothing, it is as a tempestuous sea."

The theocracy mage gave a slow exhaling breath and his body stilled. Then as had happened to the previous prisoner, the man's body began to degenerate until it too was reduced to a pile of ash.

Tiberius closed his eyes in thought.

So then it must be some kind of magical entrapment placed on these soldiers. I wonder if [Uncurse] would've worked to undo the alterations done to these men. Guess I'll have to keep that in mind the next time we take any prisoners. Oh, what the hell am I saying? The next time we take prisoners? Like that's gonna happen again.

"Lord Tiberius?"

The dragonoid was startled back to reality, his eyes quickly opening as he turned to face the female speaker.

"Will there be anything else?"

"No," he shook his head, "If the last survivor is truly unrecoverable, then our business here has concluded." Tiberius turned to the Warden of Tartarus, "Naagoth, you have done well. Thank you for your service."

The psionic cephalopod bowed deeply, "I live to serve, my liege."

The dragonoid shifted, taking a final glance at the layer of powder spread across the metal table, then turned and strode the chamber's exit, halting at the closed iris.

"My lord before you go. May I inquire as to what your plans for the remaining prisoner are?"

Tiberius paused, tilting his head, he cast his gaze to the ceiling as he considered the mind flayer's words. The prisoner was comatose and with his mind fractured he was practically useless for the original intended purpose.

"Very well," he answered, looking back over his shoulder to the mind flayer, "I surrender him to you, Naagoth. Do as you will with him."

"I thank you, sire," again he bowed to his master.

With its unhurried grind, the metal petals of the iris slid apart, allowing the dragonoid to exit the room with the Guardian Overseer striding not far behind.

o – o – o – o

Liam stood at the threshold of the Emmot family home, his head swiveled as surveyed their peaceful corner of the village. Satisfied, he turned and entered the house, shutting the door behind him. Pausing here, he tested the door's latch, again and again, ensuring that the home's entry was properly secured.

Not that there was much need for it now. Not with the new defenses gifted to the village, not to mention the two individuals which the village saviour had consigned to protect his family.

With a nod, the Emmot Family patriarch put his back to the door and crossed the room. He paused at the table to gather the lantern sitting atop it. Taking the handle in hand, he lifted it from the wooden surface, its higher position allowed more of its light to fill the room. However, Liam again hesitated as he turned to face the small kitchenette. His eyes fell upon the closed drawer in which his wife's cleaver rested.

For a moment he considered retrieving the large knife. But again, what need would there be now? With a sigh, Liam once more reflected on just how things could be changed so drastically in but a single day.

As he turned away, the small flame within its glass-walled prison flickered at the sudden movement. Then with a light step, Liam trod through the house as he made his way toward his bedroom. Though he tried to avoid any unnecessary noise, he couldn't avoid the inevitable creak of the floorboards.

Taking a second, he halted before the first door in the short hallway.

Carefully he gripped and rotated the knob before easing the door open. When its hinges gave a soft squeal of protest, he stopped immediately. He waited and listened for any sign that his presence had been noticed, thankfully it seemed he was not. So again he tried the door and for a second time, the squeak sounded but he pressed on until the door was open enough for him to slip partially into the room.

Standing on the threshold, the father's dark brown eyes swept across the room's interior.

The bedroom was lit by the silver moonlight which streamed in unobstructed through the window. Seeing nothing seemed to be amiss with the room itself, Liam's eyes turned to the room's occupants. There lying upon the twin beds were the sleeping forms of his two daughters.

The eldest lay curled on her side beneath the covers of her bed. Both of her hands were tucked away beneath her pillow. It was a pose that he'd become familiar with seeing each night when he checked in on the sleeping girls. For a time Liam had found himself wondering what had prompted her to adopt this position so often now.

With a gentle shrug, he turned away to look at his younger child.

Little Nemu lay in a tangled heap of linen sheets with her limbs splayed out across the bed at seemingly odd angles. In looking at the slumbering girl, one would have to be forgiven for wondering just how she could manage to sleep like that. However, the child never seemed to have any trouble.

The wonders of being young and flexible.

Liam chuckled softly.

From his place at the door, he watched his youngest daughter closely. Monitoring the slow rise and fall of her chest, his eyes tracked even the briefest of movements she made in her unconscious state. It appeared to him that the girl's nightmares had faded in the time since to become nothing more than an unpleasant memory.

This fact made the father rather happy to see.

Content to see that everything here was as it should be Liam shrank back and into the hall, quietly closing the door behind him. Within a short stride, he was brought to the last door that stood at the end of the corridor.

Inside, Sofina sat on the edge of the bed. At the creak of the door, she reflexively tightened her grip on the hairbrush's handle as she turned to face the door. The wash of relief that fell over her was followed by a pleased smile which overtook her features at the sight of her husband entering the room. As she looked at him, though, she could not help but set her gaze on his hands and was delighted to see that he was not carrying the heavy cleaver with him as he so frequently did.

"Well, this is certainly a nice change."

Liam halted at hearing his wife's offhand comment and stared at her with an inquisitive look.

"What is?" he asked.

"You coming to bed so early and on your own too. Usually, I have to just about drag you in from your spot at the table."

Closing the door, Liam gave a half-smile to his wife as he made his way to the bedside. Here he placed the lantern atop the small table which sat along the head of the bed before taking a seat on the bed. Feeling the soft mattress beneath him, he let out a low groan and set to work removing his boots from his tired feet. Letting them fall to the wooden floor with a dull thud.

"Well, I don't think I'll be needing to do that anymore."

Sofina turned away, her hand maneuvering the brush through her golden tresses, ridding herself of the tangles she'd accumulated during the day. She felt the soft bristles pass through her hair easily, while the gentle massage-like sensation of it sweeping across her scalp helped to remove some of the day's stress.

"So you're convinced that we'll be safe?"

Liam pivoted at the waist, looking back at the beauty seated on the other side of the bed.

"I don't see how we could not be."

With a huff, Sofina rose from the bed to place her hairbrush down atop the dresser, perhaps a bit more forcefully than she had intended. Afterward, she turned and faced the nearby window. Staring through the pane of glass, her blue eyes were drawn upwards to the night sky, filled with twinkling stars and the moon high above.

"I guess I just can't help myself from thinking like this. It just seems too good to be true."

Liam smirked at his wife's comment before rising from the bed. The floorboards creaked under his weight as he made the short journey to join her at the window. Stepping up behind her, he gently wrapped his muscular arms about her frame and pulled her closer to himself. Inclining his head, Liam placed a fleeting kiss on the nape of her neck before resting his chin upon her shoulder.

"I know," he answered in a soft tone, "I know how you feel given what we all suffered through, and in that we were lucky. Exceedingly so. Lucky that I get to stay with you and see our girls grow up when it could have been so much worse."

Subconsciously he felt the sharp pang of memory and a dull throb in his gut which accompanied it. Pushing it down, he redirected his thoughts to the present. His wife gasped when he tightened his grip on her midriff. In return, she did not pull away to lessen his hold and instead relaxed into the embrace with a soft sigh.

"And we have our daughter to thank for it all."

Liam chuckled, "For that, she will always have my gratitude. As will our benefactor. Who has certainly proven himself more than I could ever imagine someone capable of."

There came an abrupt noise from above, the sounds of something scuffling on the roof of the house. It was an odd thing to hear but not one to cause alarm for the home's occupants were well aware of the cause.

"They're on the move again," Sofina remarked dryly.

"Yes, those two do seem a bit lively," Liam concurred as he followed his wife's gaze to stare at the ceiling. "So, how do you feel about our guests now?"

The blonde-haired mother did not answer right away. Instead, she remained silent and took the time to reflect on the events of earlier.

After the departure of Sir Tiberius and his entourage, the village became abuzz with activity.

Some people had chosen to inspect this new addition to the village for themselves. In groups, they wandered along the path cut by the wall of log pillars which now encircled Carne Village. While others were more interested in the duo of animated suits of armour that stood adjacent to the village gates. Despite their curiosity, the formidable countenance of the Blade Golems kept any from approaching too closely.

Yet the true subject of gossip for the village was the two fresh additions to the village population.

The sight of a nonhuman alone would be reason enough for many to gawk, an activity particularly popular amongst the youngest such as those of Nemu's age. But their appearance was so out of the ordinary that even many of the adults could not help themselves.

However, this proved itself to be problematic.

Standing beneath the scrutiny of the curious was not something the two astral hunters appreciated. It started small with sharp glares and low growls of warning to keep the villagers at bay. When several of the family's neighbors the apparent seriousness of which they took their master's commands quickly became apparent. For no sooner had their neighbor Markus approached to speak with her husband than he was met with a gleaming blade and threats of dismemberment from the two four-armed creatures.

This, of course, had the expected response.

All those gathered hastily retreated wearing expressions of fear and shock at the threat of aggression. Liam and Sofina were equally quick to intercede, the husband and wife doing their best to quell the distress that was instilled in their fellows. It was a tough sell to convince their neighbors that there was no danger. But somehow they managed it and got the other villagers to agree that for the time being, the village's new guests would be given their space.

While her parents busied themselves with the other villagers, their daughter, Enri, stepped up and took the repto-avians aside. She spoke with them in a firm tone and explained how their behaviour was not accepted, and would most certainly not be appreciated by the one who had placed them here. This dressing down did well to change the attitude of the astral hunters as they sheathed their weapons and lowered their heads in apparent shame.

Following the line of their own advice, Liam and Sofina soon led their daughters and the family's new guardians away from the crowds. Upon arriving at the family home, the two nonhumans were the first to enter the abode. Something they insisted on. Stepping through the threshold their keen eyes surveyed the interior for any danger.

This was an act that Liam found to border on the absurd as if some unknown assailant had snuck into their home and had been awaiting their return. But on Enri's advice, the family indulged the two.

Multiple times they stopped in their search to examine something, often with an inquisitive prodding claw. It seems all was in good-natured curiosity and was tolerated well enough. However, this changed when one of them decided to leap into the rafters and the other emerged from the teen's shared room with a set of her undergarments in its clawed hands did the mortified blonde-haired teen act to call a halt to any further exploration.

Watching their daughter's reaction to this brought a smile to her parent's faces. Her mother went so far as to snicker as Enri admonished the pair, in particular, the one to have pilfered her garments.

Who knew looking after these two would be such a good learning experience for her? If Enri can handle these two, she will surely make a fine mother someday.

Such were the thoughts Sofina had mused upon at the time.

"It'll take some time. But I guess I can get used to them."

Again, the sounds of movement from above distracted the married couple. This time the noise seemed to be moving off to the far side of the house.

"Where do you think they are going?"

"Probably going out on another patrol," Liam ruminated, "After all, they're still getting acquainted with the village."

This revelation prompted the wife to turn to her husband, a look of concern on her face.

"Not to worry, the night's watchmen have no doubt been warned to give them a wide berth," Liam let out a nervous laugh, "At least I hope so." He muttered that last line.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he answered hastily, "Besides, Enri has instructed them not to harm anyone in the village. It's surprising just how fast the girls have taken to them. Nemu in particular, what name did she give the one in the blue shirt again?"

"Chase, she named him Chase. And you needn't remind me of how she took to them." Sofina cut her eyes at her husband, "After all, it was you who left it to me to explain how she couldn't have them sleeping in her room as if they were some puppy."

Sheepishly, Liam directed his gaze elsewhere, "Well I just felt that you'd be better suited to it. She seems to listen to you better."

"Mmhmm."

Attempting to defuse the mood, he lowered his head and once again, and placed a flutter of light kisses on his wife's neck. This worked to bring out another gasp of surprise from Sofina and while his actions were unexpected, they were not unwelcome.

It had been a fair while since the last time the married couple had been able to embrace each other in such an intimate manner. And at the moment, the man and woman were rather enjoying the feelings that the closeness was bringing to them.

"It's been a long time," Liam muttered in her ear with a husky tone, "Maybe a bit too long?"

"B-but what of the girls? What if Nemu has another nightmare?"

Liam nuzzled his wife's honey-blonde hair before kissing her ear. "I've already checked in on them. They're both sleeping quite soundly and it has been a while since she last suffered one of those."

"But…"

Her words soon died in her throat an instant later when Liam maneuvered around his wife and captured her lips in a passionate exchange. A primal dance of sorts as their tongues jousted against one another, each attempting to assert their dominance. Together both reaffirmed their desire for their beloved and stoked the flames of the lust which burned within them. It was only their bodies longing for much-needed oxygen that forced Liam and Sofina to separate.

With great reluctance, Sofina pulled herself from her husband's arms. Drawing back, she turned before slowly making her way toward the bed and the promise of what was soon to unfold this night. With each step, she rolled her hips in a subtle attempt at enticing her husband to follow. However, Liam did not move and contented himself to merely watch, and unfortunately, this would not do for Sofina's burgeoning desires.

Reaching the bedside, she pivoted on her heel to face him. Her flowing blonde locks whipped through the air with the sudden movement and came to a stop to partially obscure her face. Without taking her eyes from Liam, Sofina lifted her hands and gently tugged at the ties of her nightgown. The thin strips of cloth slipped free and allowed the garment to open and showcase a generous portion of her ample cleavage. The motion of her hands, however, didn't stop with that. Now they followed along the hidden curves of her body as the blonde lowered herself to sit on the bed. Then with a seductive smile and beckoning gaze, Sofina held her hand out in a clear invitation for her equally amorous consort.

Not being one to deny his wife, Liam hurriedly approached. With a determined stride, he approached the bed, stripping his unwanted clothing along the way. Arriving at the bedside, Liam took his wife's hand and the two embraced.

Their lips again met in a passionate kiss while hands began to roam across the other's body. Each touch sent a thrill of sparks through their minds and drove them to seek the next. A blazing inferno of denied lusts that would not be abated anytime soon had taken hold of Liam and Sofina. So it was together the husband and wife surrendered themselves to the primal yearning that fueled their race to promised bliss, delving into acts of wanton carnality that would last for some time yet.