This is a follow up of my previous post of 'Is It Wrong to Take the Next Step in the Dungeon', which was a piece meant to have a struct beginning and end. This should hopefully be continuing story. You can read that, it will elaborate on a few things, but it's a bit long.
This prologue is the more important excerpts that are need to know. Otherwise...
Notes - This is a story arguably written for a lot of cool canon characters I like. Thus, it's not about an SI. There is only one planned OC that is standout powerful and important, but she's based on a canon character - even if we know nothing more - and she's so far in the future that it's hardly important now. Ottar is arguably the main character, but it's not solely about him. Other characters I like and wish canon would do more with can have little side arcs that won't involve him at all. We'll see.
tl;dr - No SI. Canon characters being badasses is goal, even if I'll obviously be putting my own spin on their characterizations.
I hope to have Dungeon Exploration elements. One reason Ottar is main character. Not another power fantasy that still is about a Level 1. We're starting with Orario's strongest in the unexplored Floors. Different type of power fantasy~.
No one solo'd Monster Rex's! It just wasn't done. If you were strong enough to solo a Monster Rex, then you should be operating twenty floors deeper anyways. Groups of people a level or two lower than the Monster Rex teaming up for reliable high-class excelia was just how they were handled.
"Right wrist, left shoulder blade, skull, fourth rib."
Yet, Tsubaki could only repeat those four points and keep fighting.
Even someone a smith first and adventurer accidentally like her could only survive to reach the level she had because she was able at times to acknowledge that the only choice was to fight.
And may besurvive.
'Right wrist, left shoulder blade, skull, fourth rib."
She was sent tumbling, but she also struck back with each blow.
The right wrist of the Udaeus shattered, the repeated blows to that specific area finally breaking through. It was a difference, but only a minor one. It's reach was lowered, but it just started using the radius and ulna as both for clubbing blows but also a makeshift spears.
"Left shoulder blade, skull, fourth rib."
Her ability to target the weakened shoulder blade was lowered. Now alone, she lacked the agility to reach its back. A shame as breaking that weakened bone would cripple the movement of its left arm.
One attempt too many to gain the Udaeus' rear for that strike left her smacked out of midair.
Giving up that target.
"Skull, fourth rib."
There was a general strategy to tackle the Udaeus, like all the Monster Rex's. Break one of its arms. Lower its ability to strike. Then hit the skull. While it isn't defeated till the magic stone is broken or removed, the Udaeus' movements became slower and less coordinated the more damage the skull underwent. Then you attempted to pierce its thick, magically reinforced rib cage to get to the magic stone.
Nolan had managed to crack the fourth rib in the same strike that left him vulnerable to the counterblow that had removed him from the battle.
Striking the skull on a monster as large as the Udaeus was hard. Tsubaki didn't have such great Agility to manage that. Nor the allies to distract it and leave a path opened.
Charging up its arm with a defiant scream failed as it shook her off, her falling onto spikes and leaving her feet bloody.
Throwing her Benishigure allowed it to connect, but it was deflected while only chipping at the thick skill and her attempt to run and reclaim it left her dodging the spikes once again that nonetheless left her bleeding throughout her entire left side.
Just getting pissed and trying furiously to just destroy the other hand as it threw a punch at her left her once again flying back.
Finally, she fell to both knees. Only instinct kept her hand grasping her weapon. Her other arm was hanging limp again, dislocated in the clash. Blood was flowing into her one eye, even if she had to ignore it to see anything. Merely trying to stand made her scream in pain, feeling like her spine would break if she tried to move any further.
"Left hand, skull, fourth rib."
She still spoke thus, even as she stood up regardless of her spine's cracking protests.
Even she didn't know why. She knew how this was going, as the Udaeus approached slowly – as if savoring the victory that has been delayed so long. Tsubaki didn't have the sort of agility to attack where she wanted. She didn't have the sheer offensive power to turn any actual openings into battle-changing results. Spartoi were spawning en masse now, and were coming towards her from all sides. A wave of skeletons with glowing red eyes, ready to swallow her and add her bones to their numbers.
How long was this Udaeus going to take?
She raised Benishigure, the weapon that hadn't yet chipped or worn the only thing the only thing that might provide some comfort to her.
Did a monster have the sort of awareness and intent to draw things out simply to give it all a more menacing air?
Apparently, yes. For the Udaeus stopped just outside its own range. It didn't even send spikes at her again. Didn't send its minions in. Instead, its remaining arm rose. A sudden pillar of black also rose from the ground. No, not a pillar.
A sword?
Grasping its new weapon, the Udaeus lifted it up and brought it down right on top of her.
The loudest noise yet erupted in the battlefield.
…
Huh, she must have taken a blow to the head as she forgot about Ottar in that final stretch.
The King stood before her once again, back almost appearing like a shield for her. His arms were raised, holding a sword. A sword that had blocked the massive black blade of the now armed Udaeus. The immense temperature and force contained in the strike scorching his skin and the melting around him, but he remained standing. Great trenches dug by his feet as he was pushed back, but not thrown from them.
Tsubaki looked around, forced to acknowledge even more that he had most certainly saved her life with that block. The ground all around had been stripped clean by the force of the blow. A great triangle that spread out from the Udaeus' blade, flattening everything at least one hundred meters in front of it. Even all the spartoi that had been gathering blown away into dust. Only the spot where she was a sole spot, right behind Ottar, unmarked.
"To draw a blade…Interesting," Ottar's low voice spoke, now looking intently at the Monster Rex. Shifting his blade, he threw it back. The Udaeus retreated slightly, seemingly remembering the other adventurer here as well. It allowed Ottar to turn slightly to look at Tsubaki and say, "Your stamina is drained. That is enough. You even showed me something more interesting than I'd imagined. I shall take it from here, Cyclops."
He then turned back to the Udaeus, ahungrylook in his eyes.
It was hell.
Fitting, as Ottar felt like he'd been through hell.
Only Stortus Ottar and the Healing Power DA it granted prevented him from looking like nothing more than a pile of meat by this point. The slow but automatic regenerative ability at the cost of Mind was truly essential in preventing Ottar's willpower outstripping what even his body could take. It also matched exceedingly well with the Spirit Healing DA also granted by Stortus Ottar, which automatically started regenerating Mind after usage. Which in this case included the Mind drain from Healing Power.
That's not to say he wasn't a mess. His shirt was gone, and wounds littered his body. He had to have between half a dozen and a dozen cracked bones. Every muscle felt strained and weak. Most of his equipment was destroyed by this point too. His boots were gone, and his feet bleeding, shredded, and stabbed constantly with black chips of the ground.
Balor was hardly better. Much of its body now had bone plating to cover wounds too great for it to regenerate properly, and they clearly affected it. It moved slower now. Heavier. Its arm was gone, even that bone spear shattered again, and its balance went with it. It was moving like someone with a crippled leg. Its other hand lacked a finger. A near miss had also cut open part of its face, slashing its equivalent of a cheek to extend its mouth on one side to create a hideous mockery of a half-smile.
Honestly, both were half dead by this point.
Yet, they continued fighting.
Ottar cut into its body, before jumping and rolling over as swipe of its arm. Another cut to its arm. Balor tried a wide-spread beam, and it connected. Ottar just went right through it though. Slashing it through the middle, and enduring what remained to connect him. It got him close enough to its arm to shoot forward, drawing a spike from his belt. The last spike. A spike which he drove into the upper arm of Balor's remaining arm, and then lashing out with a double stomp that drove it deep even as it launched him away.
Balor cried, its arm slumping in a way that made it clear that even that one had now been rendered largely useless.
Ottar sensed opportunity, and prepared to move in again.
But then he heard noise. Balor did too, crying victoriously as he looked to see the new arrivals. Yet another monster horde, this time coming from the 50thfloor. Took longer, due to the Safe Floor there.
Ottar turned to glare at Balor again, before turning his gaze to the weapon in his hand before himself.
Both he and his enemy were in terrible shape. Ottar's own body was reaching its limit, and he knew it. Yet, the Supreme Black Sword remained in his hand. Worn and tested, but still whole. With that last spike used, his last remaining weapon. That had also made a difference. Both half dead or not, Ottar had very much felt the tide turning. Balor's arms were broken and useless, and its movements slowed.
He could win this if things had remained as they were.
Yet now, another horde of monsters was arriving.
Level 5 monsters – when he was at his weakest.
He hadn't felt this weak and broken since Gluttony had forced him to his knees seven years ago.
Ottar…hesitated.
And Balor sensed it, letting out a new cry that made his head snap up.
Balor's head was raised, and energy was gathering. A great magic circle formed before its head, and he saw a symbol form in its eye. The energy didn't peak either. Already as strong as any other attack it had let out, it was still gathering more.
"So, you do have a secret too," Ottar growled, all his feelings of weakness and hesitation flaring as he looked at this new attack gathering.
Run!
You'll die here!
You can come back another time!
There's no shame in retreat!
Such words and sentiments ran through his mind with such clarity that it was as if people screamed them into his ear.
And Ottar felt himself instinctively take a step back.
Shame overcame him, yet he remembered the words of those before he came down. Freya's command that he come back alive. He had willingly suffered defeat and disgrace before, for he was one that challenged walls he could not hope to climb. So long as he used that to create a block that is later used to overcome it, he would suffer a hundred defeats.
As his fighting spirit fell, his hand dropped till the Supreme Black Sword clanged on the ground.
The noise it made forced his eyes away from Balor and its charging attack to the sword.
Immediately, he felt buoyed. All his other weapons had broken, but this one yet remained. Ottar's hand grasping it still had strength too.
Who said that he was lost here? Who decided that? Why did he allow despair and defeat to creep up on him without resistance?
He was as beaten and broken as he had been when Gluttony forced him to his knees, but Ottar had still been able to stand back up then and keep fighting till he claimed victory.
Ottar was still standing, and still had a weapon in hand.
That was enough to not retreat.
Balor shrieked with unmistakable anger, drawing Ottar's gaze again. The sound repeated when he planted his feet and raised the Supreme Black Sword again. Utterly furious.
"I wonder…" Ottar mumbled aloud, taking a step forward.
King, don't die!
Orario's mightiest can't fall here!
Why are you risking yourself like this?
Voices he didn't know seemed to clamor in his head, drawing to mind the voices that had once called upon him against Gluttony for salvation.
"Is this just all in my head?" Ottar mumbled to himself, stepping forward again. Feeling the noises dampen with each step forward. "Fears and justifications manifesting from my own desire to flee, on the edge of death as I am? Or is this you?"
Don't be selfish!
Your life can't be spent without dire need!
This is not a fight you must win!
"An attack on an opponent's will?" Ottar continued, stepping forth again. The noises falling even more silent. "Does it even matter? In the end, I must overcome them regardless."
"Brat, you've gotten cocky."
Ottar's eyes flicked to the side, seeing a figure clad in black armor that drew forth a rush of memories of defeat, disgrace, and weakness.
Zald smirked, and spoke,"Do you think surpassing me is so easy? Or did the little boar genuinely think he already had with that farce of a du-"
"Pointless," Ottar firmly stated, Supreme Black Sword lashing out to slice and disperse the vision of Gluttony. "I already killed that guy."
Poison doesn't matter. Every fight is uneven, and everyone comes into it with their own strengths and weaknesses. Zald had been superior to Ottar in every way walking into that fight. To rage and grasp any possibility for victory was the nature of an adventurer. To face someone your superior yet grasp that one possibility in a hundred that allows you to surpass them was the greatest of victories.
"That a beast seeks to defy fate and reach beyond his place and talent," a new voice now spoke, the figure of Alfia now appearing. Disdainful look already on her face. "Do you believe yourself a hero, boar? The one this world needs-"
"Silence," he cut off, walking right past her. "I need not heed the words of one who hit her limit at Level 7."
The Incarnation of Talent. Starting as an adventurer within six months of him, yet so often making him feel weak and slow. Especially the speed in which she leveled up after reaching Level 5 had shocked all, making everyone seem her inferior. Yet her very talent was derived from her doom. The skill that enhanced her talent and power tied to her limitations. A person who surpassed all others, but never once truly considered going beyond the limits that fate and her own mindset had placed on herself. A person that would never become Level 8.
"Ottar, why are you disobeying me?" a new voice now spoke.
This one actually made him stop.
The vision of Freya now pressed against him, almost making him feel her as she spoke,"I ordered you to come back. My most important command. Why do you press forward when even you know that you can die?"
Ottar took a deep breath, but still moved to step past her as he said with eyes fixed forward, "Because I am listening to you. Your oldest desire from me. To become the mightiest. You might believe that I accomplished that seven years ago, but I know differently. So now, I shall step forward in your name."
Freya disappeared too, and no new visions came forth.
Ottar was relieved. Maybe another might have sought comfort in the appearances of others. Somehow managed to turn the visions into encouragement.
Ottar was not one such person.
Just once, he had listened to others beyond his Goddess. He had sought victory for others. Listened to the cries of souls ascending to Heaven for a hero. Allowed the passion and roars of others turn into his own strength.
Once.
Planting his feet again and meeting Balor's gaze, he spoke only to himself, "Here, we are alone. Let others be called heroes, and be cheered. Let cheers and pleas give strength to ones who need it. I shall triumph by my own strength."
Ottar fought for his goddess.
Yet, here and now…
"This is a battle I have chosen," Ottar said, raising the Supreme Black Sword before him. "For reasons I have deemed worthy."
"You don't just…choose to level up."
"Petty."
"Before comforting yourself with the idea of my failure and planning to capitalize, perhaps remember that you'll never catch up to me if you do not keep moving forward yourselves…At least then such a word wouldn't describe you so all so well."
"Yet, do you really think it's that easy anymore, Ottar?"
"When did the heroes of Orario become so fainthearted?"
It shamed him, but only the last several days had revealed something crucial to Ottar.
Orario had lost something.
Ottar was not a people person. He was no Braver, to make speeches. He was no leader, to rally adventurers. He was no hero.
He was a simple man…and he saw only one way for him to proceed.
"I shall take the next step," he whispered to himself, yet it echoed in his own heart.
By giving them an example. An unreachable goal. A back to chase.
"For there is still further to go," he continued.
After all, that was how he yet drew strength. Once, he had looked up to Gluttony and others that repeatedly cast him into the mud of defeat and humiliation. Dreaming of the day he'd surpass them. Resolving himself to ensure that day arrived.
Gluttony and Silence were the walls of seven years ago, but more yet remained.
He remembered that old man. The fool that always talked of heroes. The man who came back broken and dying from the Black Dragon, yet still talked of heroes. Who use his final act to deal Ottar a final defeat as a new Level 6, only to then go and die on Braver's spear while talking of sacrifice.
"You are an interesting kid, Ottar, but you shall never defeat me as you currently are. So…keep growing, and don't stop."
Maxim, The Sword Emperor. Captain of the Zeus Familia. Level 8.
He…he remembered that mad elf. The healer who despised the world and wouldn't die. The one who one-sidedly forced promises on Ottar, and yet broke them herself. The immortal who died out-of-sight and without even a whimper.
"This world is hell, my little piggy. It's just a matter of how long the Heavens curse us with enduring it. If you don't like it, you must grow to defy the Heavens. That'd be amusing to watch."
Cerea…The Queen…Captain of the Hera familia. Level 9.
And yet more even beyond that.
Level 10.
Albert Wallenstein.
"There are walls yet to scale," he declared, gripping the handle of the Supreme Black Sword so hard his fingers hurt. "A mountain that waits to be climbed."
And when he reaches the peak of the summit?
…
That's when he starts building that peak higher himself – to stretch a hand towards the sky itself.
Ottar lifted the weapon before him, feeling something crystallize inside him. The development of a dream long spoken. Something tempered and refined by experience showing him the true weight of said dream. The eight years he spent as a false mightiest. Seven years as an underwhelming mightiest.
And only alone like this, where only he was speaking only to himself, could he declare such aloud and have it most resonate with himself.
"I shall become…the true mightiest."
His eyes now looked beyond Balor, even as Balor screeched as if it understood just that.
"Sterling compassion, golden plains."
Balor screeched in victory as he started to slowly chant, its attack charging yet further.
"It is my fate to serve as a brute of war."
If Ottar wanted to kill it as effectively as possible, he should have jumped at it. Interrupted its final attack. Forced it to fire prematurely.
All he was doing was allowing it to build up even more power, and for the horde of monsters to approach.
He was needlessly choosing a harder path.
"Run through,-"
Yet, Ottar's eyes were fixed beyond this.
He wouldn't take a step if it came at the cost of the next.
This was no longer about Level 8. It was about Level 9. Level 10.
If he could not endure this, then becoming the mightiest was a mere fantasy and he should fall here and make way for one who can.
"-carrying the divine will of the goddess."
A power like none other gathered, Balor unleashed its attack that dwarfed all previous.
The beam destroyed the ground as it homed in on Ottar, seeking nothing less than the complete annihilation of all who opposed it.
Sword encased in gold and resolved to win or die, Ottar met it.
"Hildis Vini!"
No one challenged Ottar as he ascended the Dungeon. Even if he was more than half-dead. All who saw him simply retreated, and watched him pass with wide eyes.
About to keel over or not, he carried an aura around him that demanded that much from them.
By the time he exited the Dungeon, word had spread. People were waiting. Watching as he emerged from the Dungeon.
A large, red, glass-like orb under one arm. The other holding the remains of the Supreme Black Sword over his shoulder. Wounds still littering his body.
Yet they all went silent as he looked them all over, waiting until he finally announcing quietly and simply, "Balor is dead."
He then walked past them, heading back to his Goddess.
The news spread across Orario with remarkable speed.
"The King killed Balor."
"Ottar solo'd Balor."
Only picking up speed and urgency as more came out.
"A Great Feat!"
"The King has done his Great Feat!"
Confirmation inflaming the interest and disbelief of all who heard.
"Ottar has leveled up!"
"The King has reached Level 8!"
"Orario's mightiest has taken the next step!"
Until the news eventually reached a Manor of Twilight, and its Pallum Hero.
Who dropped his pen with a blank face as he heard.
"Gather around," Gareth called out as they moved out of his office towards the central mess hall.
Not that he needed to do much. It looked as if just about the entire familia was already gathered. Already discussing the news that seemed to be on everyone's lips. Loki also flashed a smirk at them.
Overall, everyone was soon looking up at them as they stood on the upper balcony looking down on them.
Finn looked over them. From Ais, who had grown from that little girl they discovered. Tiona and Tione, the amazons he'd personally recruited. Bete. Raul and Anakitty. Alicia. Narvi. Lefiya. Cruz. He took the time to look at each one, locking eyes for a moment with each to show he was seeing them. From executive to supporter.
Only then did he sigh before announcing, "It looks like you have all heard. By all accounts, it has been confirmed from the lips of Goddess Freya herself to other gods…Ottar has accomplished his Great Feat to allow him to reach Level 8."
That made hushed whispers break out, many blanching at the news. It was bad – momentous – news, after all. The number of people in a thousand years to reach Level 8 was still in the single digits. There was also no denying that Ottar was the member of a rival familia that had given many few reasons to think anything else of him. At Level 8, an entire level lay between him and the next strongest adventurers.
"I know and acknowledge the worries some of you might have," Finn continued grimly, taking a deep breath. "I also can't deny it. By even the most generous of estimation…the Loki familia is now definitively merely the second strongest familia in the city."
That only drew silence.
Finn still knew it had to be said. While the Freya familia admittedly had the edge even before this, it was still close enough for there to still be some leeway. The coordination of their familia at least provided that. It was also a point of pride for them.
Before this, Finn would have given his familia a 40% chance against the Freya familia. It would have been a mere 15%, but something instinct made Finn's thumb throb. He chose not to try and track down just what it was, but he believed there to be a good chance that some unknown factor would arise that would tilt the odds in their favor. 40% was what felt right to him, and that was enough of a chance that could be grasped.
Now, 10% was likely being optimistic even with that unknown factor.
He wasn't even sure if he, Riveria, and Gareth together could defeat Ottar now, and they almost certainly wouldn't manage it without loss.
"In other words, we are in the same position as we were three years ago," he continued though, strongly. Making them listen to him, "And is that wrong? Is that too much to handle? Not a single person here joined this familia thinking we didn't have further do go…or did I miss something?!"
A few answered rather uncertainly in the negative.
"Every person who has joined has known that we are in this for the long run. That every year, every expedition, and every level gained has been closing the gap," Finn said, starting to pace. "Is any one of you so foolish as to think our enemy would not advance too?! Do you think they are weak and without will themselves? Do you need such pathetic enemies for us to triumph?!"
"No!" more chanted this time in response.
"It is exactly because they too will fight and struggle against us that makes them worthy opponents that are worth struggling against to overcome!" Finn declared, slamming hands on the rail of the balcony for effect. Naturally holding his strength back to not shatter it too. "The King is Orario's mightiest…but he is still just one man! I ask of you, Loki familia, shall one man's level up steal your courage?!"
"No!"
"For seven years, this familia has grown in preparation for the time when we shall illustrate to Orario who the greatest familia in this City of Heroes is. Well…the time has come! Another has dictated that the time when Orario shall step forward has come, and that is my mistake. There was always another group we could raise to the next rank. Another expedition to undergo. Always more to do," Finn said, pounding his own chest in reprimand. "Yet the time preparing has not been wasted! Look around you! See how far our familia alongside each and everyone of you has come! Our efforts have not been wasted!"
"And the time for us to take the next step ourselves has come!" he roared now.
It made everyone jump. Some in surprise, but also others merely jumping to their feet themselves. Infected by the energy he was putting into his voice. Everyone getting themselves worked up, and the electricity in the air quickly spreading.
Bete was also standing on a table, shouting insults. Tiona was just cheering from the energy, while Tione was cheering on Finn just as energetically. Ais was more subdued, but her own eyes were hard and a cute little expression of determination formed on her face while she clenched a fist before her.
"We shall push further," Finn declared. "I shall be moving up our next major expedition as much as able, and I declare here and now that we shall reach the Glacier Territory of the 59thfloor. That is no goal. That is a statement of fact! And after that, we shall do it again. And again. Even if it is just us executives that deep, we shall start conquering the Dungeon!"
"And we shall achieve this through the efforts of everyone here," he reiterated, looking to meet eyes again. "I want everyone here to consider how you shall push further. If you are ready to seek the next step, figure out how you intend to. If you need to push yourselves further, decide where you shall do so. I want to hear from every single one of you, and I shall leave my door open for all of you at least once. Day or night. If you know how you shall move forward, I shall listen!"
"Wait, is that an invitation to interrupt you at night?!" Tione demanded with starry eyes even as most everyone cheered.
Finn pointed at her and immediately replied, "Women go to Riveria at night!"
That got a few laughs.
"And it is not only you all either," Finn added on, gesturing to Riveria and Gareth at his sides too. "Everyone is participating here! We three are making this declaration to all of you here and now!"
"To Level 7," Riveria said simply, nodding at those looking up at her.
"We sure as hell aren't going to allow Ottar to relax without someone nipping on his heels," Gareth joked with a broad grin.
And boy did that get a reaction from the familia.
It made Finn grin before he shouted, "The time for patience is over! We shall all press forward! Forward in the face of adversity! Forward to overcome our weakness! Forward to grasp the dream that lay beyond the horizon of all who have delved into the Dungeon!"
"Forward!"
"Now, go run and tell the cooks to get working. Go buy food and drink from anywhere you can get it and bring it back. It's all on me," Finn informed them. "Tonight, we celebrate Orario's mightiest taking the next step! And tomorrow, we awaken and start our push to make the Loki familia Orario's top familia despite him! Enjoy yourselves tonight, and steel yourselves for tomorrow. Adventurers…adventure awaits you!"
That got a positive roar in response.
Finn turned to meet Riveria's eyes before doing the same for Gareth.
All three of them exchanged nods before looking forward again.
It wouldn't be easy, but their resolve was made regardless.
Ottar, you are Orario's mightiest and you might have taken the next step before us…
But we Great Three shall not lose to you.
And our familia most certainly shall still overcome your own.
As the energy of the Loki familia rose and declarations were made…
…well, they certainly weren't the only ones becoming worked up.
The air of Orario shifted.
Familias captains made declarations. Plans were made. Expeditions planned.
A fire kindled in the breast of every true adventurer, and embers starting to sheltered in hopes that they too would come to burst into flame.
And so the days passed.
Every day had more and more occur.
It was like a self-sustaining cycle.
The more the top familia's acted, the more everyone else also had to act or be left even further behind than they were before.
The Guild rushed here and there. Always more to do. More preparations to be made. More expedition plans to review. More adventurers diving every day, and doing so longer and returning with more magic stones and drops to exchange. Even as they knew a new wave of casualties was coming from adventurers pushing their limits, they took it all in their hands in hope that at least as much as possible could be gained.
More demands for expedition support.
A pallum supporter looked in disbelief at three separate contracts before her. Contracts for hiring supporters long-term, with payment and security through the Guild. The need of familias to put as many of their own members into position to push forward suddenly turning even independent supporters – usually only looked at by Level 1 adventurers – into valued assets. It seemed impossible to her, and those like her. Yet, it was a lifeline and chance that she had to grasp.
More calls for supplies that adventurers needed going out, every merchant suddenly using every supply source they had.
The debt-ridden and badly positioned potion shop suddenly found it too approached. Potions were the lifeblood of adventurers, and there just weren't enough. Larger expedition needed entire crates of potions. For familia's which were dipping into reserve funds, the money flowed towards anyone who might be able to provide.
More openings for new recruits.
New recruitment posters went up in the Guild. More familias making long term plans, and intent on expansion. After all, it could take years or decades for high-leveled individuals to level up, but some younger could level up every few years. Soon, the recruitments demands reached further and further beyond Orario.
Even to little villages.
"Well I'll be," Hermes commented, looking over Orario from the city wall. Taking it all in alongside the information that was flowing to him from his familia. "I guess even a boring guy like him can create interesting effects."
Hermes once had hopes for Ottar. When he beat Gluttony, even he had been struck with admiration…but the King was no hero. Not what Hermes wanted.
It appeared that even a boring guy could create a sort of inspiration though simply by setting new standards for strength and making everyone chase his back.
"Not bad, Ottar," he remarked, grinning. "I'll give it time for this to develop, Let's see where this goes. What this creates."
He then walked away, chuckling as it put him moving away from his cute little captain who now had to run even further after him while calling out for him.
And he wasn't alone in that.
"What a delightful view," a certain Goddess of Beauty declared from atop Babel Tower. "To think that so many souls could gain a new shine."
Freya couldn't help licking her lips. From her perch, she was able to look down on the city. Her sight allowing her to see far more than buildings or streets.
She saw the souls of the City of Heroes, and so many were shining anew.
Like a fire spreading to light up the world.
"You did well, my Ottar," she said as she looked down, gently running her hand through the hair of her strongest child. He was fast asleep, head resting on her lap.
He was sleeping often since returning. Even beyond the harshness of the battle, he needed to be in top condition. While he was able to level up, it wasn't something to rush. With level 5, each level took an increasing toll. Increasingly it became impossible for a person to take the next step. It took both strength of spirit and refinement of body. The closer they stepped the heavens, the more their own vessel threatened to shatter under the power developing inside. It was not a coincidence that only one person had ever reached Level 9, and it was a healer that had been called the Immortal.
But Ottar would most certainly be the second, and continue going.
His move to train the Andhrímnir of all things was rather counterproductive to readying himself for Level 8, but he had earned leeway for such flights of fancy and even then he'd be ready any day now.
If anything, she was considering how to properly reward him for his feat.
After all, the Eye of Balor was resting on her mantle.
"Not only do you shine, but this time you have made even others shine," she whispered, hand gliding over his cheek. "It appears you continue to surprise me."
She looked back out over Orario.
"Let's see if anyone else manages to surprise me so too, or whether it will only be you from now on."