Soulweaver 65: Strings Attached (Patreon)

It took a bit, but Aerion and I eventually found Commander Tarth and his men in the maze that was Tarquin’s compound. Not only would we be clearing the name of a good man—someone I hoped stayed in power for a long time—but if we played our cards right, I didn’t even want to guess what our rewards would be. I was happy enough getting Aerion’s pendant back, but now we had a unique opportunity. One I intended to fully capitalize.

Focusing on our goal helped. I needed a way to distract myself from the meteors that continued to hit the ground, destroying buildings and setting things ablaze. The possibility of getting vaporized by one of those things absolutely terrified me.

I concluded that the only reason people didn’t worry about getting hit by a meteor was because the chances were so low. But when those things crashed into nearby buildings every few minutes, triggering tiny earthquakes? Yeah, that remote possibility suddenly got a lot scarier.

The Commander was understandably busy, but when we said we had urgent information for the Baron’s ears, he personally led us to the castle with a detachment of guards. It seemed he’d already gotten wind that we were involved in killing Tarquin, and if he was nice to us before, he was downright gushing now.

I felt like some sort of celebrity, marching through the streets surrounded by people who, to me, looked like knights.

We got our fair share of attention, which I ignored, mainly by bringing up my pending notifications. 

The battle had done wonders for both myself and Aerion. There were far too many to go through, so I skimmed them all. Starting with my weapons, my Poleaxe’s [Skunky] ability had improved from F4 to F6, while my Steel Mace’s [Bleed] had gone from F5 to F7. Both my weapons and armor had taken small hits to their Condition, but they were still in great shape.

For stats, Dominion had gone up two to 28, and surprisingly, Cunning had increased by 1 to 18 as well. It seemed my awareness of the enemy’s motions during the fight had leveled it. While combat might not be the most efficient way to level that stat, it was good to know it was possible.

Unfortunately, neither my Vigor nor Grace had improved, since those stats were maxed. I’d have to upgrade my gear shortly, but I was guessing that wouldn’t be an issue, given the results of our raid.

I couldn’t complain, seeing how [Initializer] had leveled to E - 4, bringing my total Essence and utilization up from 169/190 to 176/210. 

As for Aerion, she’d progressed by leaps and bounds. Her [Sylvan Reaver] Blessing had leveled up the same as mine, going from F - 7 to F - 8, and granting her 5 new stat points to spend, but she’s also leveled [Reave] once to F - 8 and [Shock] twice to F - 4.

As for her stat gains, well, they looked like this:

Vigor: 25 -> 27 (Max: 28)

Grace: 17 -> 19 (Max: 19)

Dominion: 23 -> 26 (Max: 56)

Lastly, her Nobleman’s Steel Shortsword’s [Venom Strike] ability had leveled from F - 7 to F - 8, and I suspect it’d have leveled more if it wasn’t capped by her lessing level.

By the time I finished, we’d arrived at the castle. We passed through the gatehouse and into the courtyard, before being shuttled into the audience hall where I’d met Baron Sinclair just hours earlier.

Had it really only been a few hours? It’d felt like days, and apparently I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

Baron Sinclair looked like an absolute mess. Like us, he’d stayed up after the events of last night, but unlike us, it seemed like this wasn’t his first night going without rest.

I’d be too scared to sleep if I knew my head was on the chopping block. It was time to end that.

“Baron Sinclair,” I said, bowing my head. Aerion did the same.

“By all the gods, please tell me you come bearing good news.”

I glanced at Aerion and nodded. She was the one who found the evidence. She ought to be the one to deliver it.

“We did, milord.” Aerion cleared her throat and stepped forward. She reached into her robe and brought out a rolled up piece of paper.

A few guards started at her action, attempting to take the scroll and hand it to the Baron themselves, but the Baron dismissed them. “These are heroes who have aided us in our time of need. The least I can do is receive this note myself.”

“Thank you, milord,” Aerion said. “I believe you’ll find the contents most intriguing.”

“You don’t say?” Sinclair said, stepping forward and taking the paper from her. He undid the leather tie and unfurled it, scanning it over quickly.

I didn’t need to be able to read the contents to see Sinclair’s eyes grow larger and larger as he read through it.

“This is… How did you find this?”

“In our fight with Tarquin, milord. We chased him down and did battle with his Emergence-Rank Blessed. Though we were alone and cut off from the help of the city guard, we ultimately prevailed. I’m afraid the coward took his own life, but thankfully, I managed to obtain the location of this incriminating evidence before he did. Dominion only knows what might’ve happened if I hadn’t been so lucky.”

Damn, she’s good.

Aerion didn’t lie, per se, but from what she told me, it sounded like Tarquin had volunteered that information. She’d effortlessly spun the tale in her favor, making our contributions look like more significant than they were.

Not that they weren’t significant—I didn’t fail to notice how she managed to highlight both the rank of Tarquin’s Blessed and that we fought and defeated both of them without any help from the guards. That again was mostly true, but the Blessed had only given up when he realized the guards had found him.

And thanks to Aerion’s flawless delivery, Baron Sinclair didn’t second-guess her. I figured some embellishment would go unpunished given the salvation we’d just delivered him.

Still, I had to wonder how Aerion was so good at this stuff. I knew she was high-born, or at least that her family had once been nobility, but there were so many details she’d left out. I hoped she’d trust me one day to confide in me fully.

“Words elude me,” Sinclair said, his voice trembling. “Commander Tarth. I take it our troops searched Tarquin’s office?”

“Yes, milord. It is to my great shame that we failed to locate these papers. We were not thorough, and they will be disciplined, of this you have my word.”

“Actually, if I may…” Aerion began, looking at the Baron. He nodded his permission. “I doubt your men are to blame, Commander. This was hidden in a compartment beneath a loose floorboard compartment. I doubt anyone would have thought to look there.”

“And Tarquin himself told you this, did he?” Sinclair said, a bit of his resolve returning.

“He did, milord,” Aerion replied. Her words hung in the air for a long moment.

“Commander Tarth!” Sinclair said, standing tall.

“Yes, milord.”

“Take your men and find the ones listed on this paper. I don’t care what it takes. Take down these crimelords as you see fit. I want no expense spared. Mobilize the entirety of your forces and see to it that none of them escape. We must make a public display of their deaths for all the world to see. Oh, and make a dozen copies of this paper as well, if you please.”

“Your will be done,” Commander Tarth replied, snapping to attention before spinning on his heel and storming out.

Baron Sinclair turned to Aerion and me once Tarth had left, taking his troops with him.

“As for you two… To say that you have done this city a great service would be a gross understatement,” Tarquin said at last. His hands were trembling. “With this, all who were involved in the blasphemy against Dominion will be brought to justice. Innocent lives will be spared. One of which being my own. Indeed, you have done me a debt I can scarcely ever repay. Which is why it pains me to ask what I am about to ask of you.”

I stiffened. That was never a good sign.

“As you have no doubt noticed, the great balls of fire that streak over Basecrest have not ceased. Nowhere is safe. I’m afraid not even the castle has escaped the damage.”

“The Cataclysm Dungeon,” Aerion said.

“Yes. So you know. Good, that makes things quicker. We have reason to believe a Cataclysm Dungeon will touch down near here soon. It could be today. It could be a week from now. But the signs are all present.”

I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“Are you aware of the true nature of Cataclysm Dungeons?” he asked.

“Only what I’ve heard, milord,” Aerion replied. “That they are the advance forces of the enemy. Of the Archon.”

“Indeed.Cataclysm Dungeons are unlike the Trials bestowed upon us by the gods,” Sinclair said, pacing in front of his with his hands clasped behind his back. “There, you will find no Sanctuaries, no early exits, and no shortcuts designed to allow delvers to bypass floors. Though we rank them on the same scale as the Trials, their difficulty is immeasurable.” 

If true, that was quite the understatement. No Sanctuaries meant anyone without healing magic would be at an enormous disadvantage. Not to mention the food and water situation. My Spatial Inventory would be invaluable there. In fact, I wasn’t sure I’d even consider attempting it without knowing I had enough food and water to last me in there.

The idea of going weeks or longer without sustenance terrified me. Dying from dehydration or starvation was not my idea of a good time.

Sinclair stopped pacing, and looked at us with a heavy expression. “Those are, however, not the biggest difference.”

“The Cataclysm Dungeon disappear when cleared,” Aerion said.

“Yes. As you said, they are the tip of the enemy’s spear. If left unchecked, they will spew forth monsters that will raze our city. Those monsters will only grow in numbers and strength, unless the Dungeon is destroyed.”

“You’re asking us to delve into it. To try and take it down,” I said.

“I’m afraid I am. Should you decline, I will reward you with handsomely with gold and send you with my blessings. You have gone above and beyond for Basecrest, and your contributions will not be soon forgotten.”

I waited for him to continue. There was always a ‘but’.

“If, however, you delve the Cataclysm Dungeon and emerge victorious, I shall grant you whatever it is you wish.”

“That is most generous of you,” Aerion replied, before glancing at me.

“Agreed.” I could think of many things Sinclair would be able to get us. Training, supplies, gear. Political connections… Except, something didn’t add up.

“You have a small army of professional troops under your command. Why us?”

I wasn’t naive enough to think we were special. Yes, we’d helped out the city, but my fighting skills were nonexistent.

“Because you are Blessed,” Sinclair said, looking at Aerion. “I am making this offer to all the Blessed in the region. Sending regular soldiers—no matter how well trained—would be no better than sentencing them to their deaths. I’ll not sacrifice their lives when they are so badly needed here. You’ve seen the damage the meteors cause. That will pale in comparison to the damage the monsters spewing out of the Cataclysm Dungeon will wreak. I need my men here, to defend the city.”

 That was as good a reason as any, I supposed. It was true—even without the Tarquin-Dominion blasphemy business, there was so much chaos in the city right now that I wouldn’t be surprised if it took the entire City Guard just to keep order. 

Defending against monsters on top of that? I did not envy the man. Or Basecrest.

I looked at Aerion and raised a brow. She nodded. An easy decision. I said I’d help Aerion against the Cataclysm, and I meant it. This was me putting my money where my mouth was. That didn’t mean I couldn’t milk this situation for every drop of benefit it was worth, though.

“We accept,” I said. “But this is an awful danger. We might not come back alive. Would you consider giving us an advance on that reward?”

Sinclair nodded. “Of course. I’ll arrange for your gold to be prepared at once.”

“Actually, gold’s nice, but I was thinking of something else,” I said, feeling my lips tug upward despite myself. “Let’s talk about your armory. How big is it, and would you mind if I took a quick look?”