Valkyrie's Dawn

by Selkie Myth

Chapter 1 - The Tunnel to Terrabethia I

Iona got out of bed with all the fury and joy of an 8-year-old.

An 8-year-old on her birthday.

An 8-year-old on her Unlocking Day!!!

The rest of her family groaned in the small hut they called home as Iona blazed through, and right out the door.

"I unlocked! I unlocked!" She cried out, excitement and joy radiating from every fiber of her being.

"Lunaris! Selene! Thank you!" Iona threw out a quick prayer, even though the moon goddesses had nothing to do with her System unlocking.

She ran past the longhouse that dominated the center of the village, the traveling skald sleeping off a hangover on the steps, then skidded to a halt in front of another hut, made out of wood, straw thatch on the roof, dried mud covering the cracks and not letting the chill breeze in. A hut that looked like any other in the village, but was special, not for how it was made, but for who lived in it.

"Lux! Lux! Come out here!" Iona called out. A few of the neighbors, already up and working, chuckled good-naturedly at the whirlwind made flesh excitedly bouncing around, remembering fondly the day when they’d unlocked the System, when magic became real and accessible for each of them.

A very sleepy-looking girl exited the house. Delicate features, mousey brown hair, and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes – it was clear she hadn’t slept a wink last night.

"Iona? Wu?" Lux said.

"I. Unlocked!!!" Iona said, emphasizing each word as carefully as she could. Lux’s eyes widened.

"You unlocked! Hurray! I need to unlock now! Any moment now…"

Lux screwed her eyes up and concentrated, seeing if she could get the last few hours out of the way by sheer force of will.

Nothing. The System wasn’t to be defeated by the will of a mere girl.

Iona rolled her eyes at Lux’s antics. She adored Lux – they were two peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth. Sure, she was distractible, needing Iona’s constant, steady hand to focus and stay on track, and was frankly bananas for bananas, but she provided a spark of curiosity, a burning inquisitive mind, and a creativity that Iona couldn’t match.

In short, they were perfect for each other, they complemented each other, covered each other.

"Anyways, anyways, what did you get? What did you get?" Lux said, having given up on bending the System to her will.

Iona quickly checked over her notifications for the hundredth time this morning.

"[Child of Lithos]!" She happily called out. "Level 7." She said, puffing her chest out. Bow before me, peasant! [High Jarl] Iona was here to rule with an iron fist!

"Wow! Did you put points into your stats yet?" Lux asked, wide-eyed.

Iona hesitated, then relented. They had no secrets. Bending over, whispering to her, she said,

"Well, yes. Everyone keeps saying Mana Regeneration is the best stat, and to put everything there. But I put my points into Dexterity and Strength. That way I can fight the people that bully you."

Lux gave her a hug, burying her face in Iona’s shirt.

"You didn’t have to." She said through the cloth.

Iona patted Lux’s back.

"Of course, I did! Come on, let’s go play in Terrabethia!"

That managed to distract Lux, not that it was an accomplishment worth bragging about. A butterfly could distract Lux from… anything really.

"Yeah, let’s go!"

Holding each other’s hand, they sprinted off to Terrabethia, their magical place. Soon to be even more magical with Iona having skills! And levels!

"Are you girls heading off to the old mine again?" The guard at the village exit asked them.

"Yup." Iona said, chin held high, defiantly.

The guard sighed, having lost this very same argument dozens of times already, not wanting to go through the wringer with the pair of scoundrels so early in the morning.

"Please be careful in there. It’s not safe."

Lux stuck her tongue out at the guard.

"Not safe for big fat adults maybe. Safe for quick girls! Come on Iona, let’s goooo!"

As they ran through the woods, up the hill, to the entrance of the old mine, Iona looked over the skills she was offered. Mom and Dad had given her some suggestions yesterday as to what skills she should take, and Iona suspected that once they were awake, they’d dictate what skills she’d take.

However, for a few, brief, glorious hours, Iona was free from parental tyranny, able to grab skills and allocate stats as she saw fit.

[Name: Iona]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 8]

[Mana: 40/40]

[Mana Regen: 825]

Stats

[Free Stats: 0]

[Strength: 20]

[Dexterity: 20]

[Vitality: 7]

[Speed: 11]

[Mana: 4]

[Mana Regeneration: 4]

[Magic Power: 4]

[Magic Control: 4]

Mana regen per day, because that looked cooler. Big numbers were better!

Frowning over her offered skills, she started off taking [Analyze], the classic skill for seeing what level someone was. Apparently, everyone had it, and everyone said it was a good idea. Iona was a free spirit, not inclined to listen too much to other people, but when that many people said the same thing? She’d be silly not to take it. It just made sense!

[Cute] was up next, because Iona was as cute as a button. Why not!

[Alert] was good for making sure no monsters or dinosaurs were sneaking up on them in the woods, and Lux would never be [Alert]. One of them had to be on guard for danger, and if it wasn’t going to be Lux, it had to be her.

[Walking] is what Iona spent way too much time doing, and the skill was tantalizing, promising an easier life, a way to get from A to B with less effort, using magic to fuel things. [Walking] away!

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Walking] has reached level 2!]

Levels already! Happy day! Iona jumped as much as she could with Lux holding onto her other hand.

Iona was tough, and [Tough] was an option. It’d help in the inevitable brawl as one of the older kids picked on Lux, and Iona would need to swoop in to save the day.

Speaking of needing to swoop in to save the day, it was inevitable that it’d end up in a bare-knuckle brawl, a hellion fight in the mud between Iona and whoever the most recent tormentor was. The System was a generous god, and had offered her [Brawling].

Yeah! Nobody would ever win against her again!

Although, unlocking marked a rite of passage, and fights between people who had their System unlocked and those who hadn’t was strongly discouraged, which would just make life harder. The older, bigger, stronger tormentors might be back to fighting, while the younger ones couldn’t be beaten up anymore. Iona was going from the top of the "hadn’t unlocked" kids, right to the bottom of the "have unlocked".

Lux was a darling, and after each fight, after each black eye, would carefully try to patch Iona up, carefully dabbling some concoction or another on her. Lux kept insisting she wanted to be a [Mage], but Iona couldn’t see it. Lux was 100% becoming a [Healer], or she’d eat her hat.

Why oh why couldn’t Lux be more sociable? She annoyed people by just ignoring them, not really caring for them or wanting to be around them. Other people said something was "off" about Lux, and tried to shun her, cast her out of their social circle. The designated punching bag. Without her, without Iona, she’d be all alone in the world.

It made Iona worry over her, gave her a rare, well, not sleepless night, but a few minutes of worry at night. What would ever happen to Lux if something happened to Iona?

It drove Iona. It made Iona want to be stronger, be able to protect Lux. Nobody else would do it after all.

Two skill slots left. Iona hesitated a moment, then decided to listen to the wild old priestess the town had, that learning and education were the most important things. Any other adult telling her and Iona would probably bristle, and deliberately not pick it. The old priestess, looking like she’d been alive two hundred years, who always had a kind word, an ear for Iona’s problems, and always had stories about the gods and goddesses? Iona listened to her in a way she didn’t listen to anyone else. Stories about Lunaris and Selene were her favorites, but Iona wasn’t picky – any story was a good story.

She was starting to get a sneaking suspicion that her parents were feeding lessons to the priestess for her to tell Iona, but, well… Iona hadn’t quite fully made that connection yet.

The long and short of it was, [Education] was the 7th general skill Iona took, and then she paused, as they were nearing the entrance of the mine. This was the last skill, and suddenly the skill restriction mattered.

[Prayer] was on the list, but who needed a skill to talk with the gods? They were easy to chat with! Iona did it all the time. Nah, it was like some of the adults said. Some skills weren’t very good, because you could just do them without the skill.

Iona skipped on [Prayer].

"Moon goddesses! I didn’t take [Prayer]. Hope you’re not mad! I’ll still pray to you anyways." Iona shot a quick apology off.

The entrance of the old mine had a stone monument in front of it, an ancient claim by the Empire of Remus to the mine.

Even the dust of the Empire was gone by now, only a few scant historical records, and the occasional monument and grave to rob left marking the existence of humanity’s first civilization. The troll [Jarl] ruled the lands now, almost entirely disconnected from Remus.

Iona didn’t bother with any of that. She longed for the days of the Remus Empire, where the stories said there were no nobles, no jarls, nobody with that type of privilege, no Immortals who could and did crush peasants under their boot.

Trolls were strange. They were technically Immortal, which usually meant that Lithos would be considered an Immortal country. However, a combination of their curse being so harsh, there being so few of them, and the vast majority of the Lithos peasantry being mortal, along with the country’s geographical location, made Lithos firmly a mortal country.

The local [Jarl]’s crushing boot on all of their necks already had the young Iona boiling in rage at Immortals and nobility.

"Let’s go!" Iona said, eagerly pulling Lux into the mine with her.

Kids would be kids, and Iona and Lux loved to explore the nooks and crannies of the world around them, as limited as it was.

Dedication + Art Gallery

Valkyrie's Dawn wouldn't be possible without a large number of people. My wife, for supporting me trying out this whole "writing" thing when I first started out.

My beta readers, for hitting me over the head when I suggest dumb stuff, for pointing out typos, and being a sounding board.

All the other authors I chat with, giving me tips, tricks, and advice. There are far too many to name them all.

My patrons, for financially supporting me.

My readers.

The artists who make art for me.

Royal Road, for hosting the story.

And the hundreds of others who've made this all possible.

Thank you everyone.

And now what you all really want: The art!

Chapter 2 - The Tunnel to Terrabethia II

There used to be an ancient Arcanite mine, the entire reason the village had been founded in the first place. The miners had gone deeper and deeper, plumbing the depths of the vein of precious material, until it ran out. They left, the village practically dried up, but stubborn [Farmers] and the like had stuck around. The nearby fields were fertile enough, and the mining operation had cleared enough trees.

For countless generations, they’d stayed there, eking out a living like any other village. The shadow of the ancient mine was simply a local amusement. Every few decades the ground would rumble as an ancient support finally gave way, portions of the mine collapsing on itself. A bit of fun for the village, and a way to mark time.

Naturally, changes had come as time passed, no matter how much the elders insisted that they were doing things exactly the same way their forefathers had done it.

They had sheep of course, Felix’s impulsive wish reverberating through the eons, his largest embarrassment becoming his greatest fame.

Iona and Lux had spent time playing in the mine together, away from the other village kids that liked to bully Lux.

"It’s dangerous!" The adults kept saying. "Don’t go there!"

They also said pigs, weather, the sun, monsters, travelers, swords, fire, and dinosaurs were dangerous. Some of those were dangerous, yeah, but Iona still didn’t see how the sun was dangerous. She’d made fires, and yeah, if you were dumb they could hurt, maybe be dangerous, but apart from that, they were fine.

She figured the mine was either in the sun category, or the fire category. Probably the sun category. People kept saying it was dangerous, but it wasn’t that dangerous.

"Let’s explore!" Lux said, shooting down a side path. Iona waited, tapping her foot. They’d explored that tunnel at least twenty times, and it was a short dead end.

Well, while Lux was gone for a moment, Iona could pray.

"Got any advice for my first class? Any words of wisdom?" She asked her favorite goddesses.

They were silent, but Iona had faith that they’d heard her.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Lux came back out, looking sheepish.

"How about Terrabethia?" Iona asked, not waiting for an answer before grabbing Lux’s hand and moving through the tunnels.

Terrabethia was what they’d named a little valley that the mine exited to on the other side. It was their place, their special magical spot, where they could go and nobody could find them. Endless adventures lay in that tiny valley. Castles were built and raided, dinosaurs slain, [Kings] overthrown and [Princesses] rescued, and, at the end of the day, good triumphed while evil was cast down.

Standard kid play.

"Yeah! Yeah! I want to be Chloe!" Lux excitedly said.

Iona got right into it.

"Alright! I’ll be Felix then!"

Felix and Chloe, two of the three names every human knew. They were each responsible for a global +1 to all humanity, the [Knight] and the [Mage], along with the [Grand Hero] Herculix.

After all this time, nobody was quite sure what they had done, just that everyone got a notification about them, and the corresponding bonus. Well, two notifications with Felix. The other one didn’t matter though. Sheep detection.

They ran through the tunnels, a path carved into their mind after so many trips down. Over rocks, sliding under fallen timber supports, a short swim, and one wriggle through a narrow crack, and they were out, into the magical valley.

"Yurok! It’s Yurok, the Guardian!" Lux claimed, climbing a tree.

"Forwards, Yurok!" She cried out, pointing imperiously into the distance.

The perfectly normal oak, of course, didn’t move, but that didn’t stop their imagination.

"Hiya!" Iona grabbed two branches, and started to fend off hordes of zombie-bushes as a [Twinblade Warrior]. Lux pelted magic missiles – acorns – from above, providing support.

The bushes were powerful and resilient! They bent under each twack, and barely lost any leaves under the brutal acorn barrage.

By the twin goddesses of the moon, stats felt amazing. Iona could feel her arms being stronger, the stick whizzing through the air. A sharp pull back at one point even had a crack go through the stick, as it broke under the forces.

"By the way, why are you Felix today? Why not a [Knight-Errant], like the one that’s in town?"

Iona froze at that, whirling around to see Lux up there in the tree.

"What do you mean?"

"A [Knight-Errant] is visiting! Said she’d be here for a few days. She said she’s one of the va- vala – valk"

"A Valkyrie!?" Iona practically shrieked out. "Why didn’t you tell me!" She demanded.

"I thought you knew!" Lux said, cowering slightly at her friend’s anger. "She rides a tri-cer-a-tops!" Lux carefully enunciated each word of the difficult dino’s name, like she’d been scolded and made to repeat it carefully until she could do it right.

"Come on let’s go let’s go!" Iona said, dropping the broken stick, blitzing back to the entrance of the cave. She paused for a moment, waiting for Lux to catch up, before diving back into the winding maze.

Over the rock. Wriggle through the passageway. Slide under the collapsed beam, rotted by age, impatience written on her face at every step.

But never yelling at Lux, no. She was, in some ways, so very fragile, so reliant on Iona.

Well, it was also somewhat unfair to Lux. She’d unlock later in the day – Iona was the older one. Barely. Same birthday, different time of day, and, well, that’s why Iona was the big sister, the one who needed to protect Lux. Lux didn’t have extra skills yet, extra points in Strength and Dexterity making some of the formerly difficult twists and turns in the tunnel easy.

She tried punching the wall a few times, and got rewarded.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Tough] has reached level 2!]

Ha! Levels! The perfect thing to get while Lux was struggling along.

Sliding to the side of a rock. Punch the walls. Wait for Lux to catch up.

Punching solid rock hurt though. Iona wasn’t [Tough] enough. Yet.

Swim through a pool of water, the formerly bitingly cold sting somewhat faded – immediate benefits from [Tough]. Shake it off. Punch the walls. Lightly. Wait for Lux to catch up.

Sprinting down a hallway, reveling in the feel of the air, of her legs being stronger. Punch the walls. Wait for Lux to catch up.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Tough] has reached level 3!]

Yes! Iona knew this was the right thing to do!

Carefully navigate around some crumbling beams, waving her hand – hitting the wall smarted – Iona had an idea.

Why not hit the wooden beam? Softer than the rock-hard wall. It was also a different thing to do, and variety was good for experience.

With all the might of 20 Strength, she punched the wooden beam, unlooted and still vaguely in one piece after an unknown stretch of centuries, or more.

Again.

And again.

And –

With a mighty crack, the beam collapsed, a portion of the ceiling falling down. Iona jumped back, the massive part of the mountain narrowly missing her.

"Oh no!" She yelled out. "Lux are you ok?"

"Yeah, I’m fin-" Lux started to say, only to be interrupted by more rumbling.

More rocks falling, crashing down, dust billowing up.

"Lux!" A scream ripped from Iona’s throat, as she backed up, trying to avoid being crushed by the falling rocks.

[*ding!* You have slain a [Human] (Child, lv 1)]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Child of Lithos - Water] has leveled up to level 8! +2 Free Stats from your Class! +1 Free Stat for being Human! +1 Dexterity from your Element!]

[*ding!* Congratulations! You’ve unlocked the General skill [Traps]. Would you like to take this skill? Y/N]

Iona dismissed the notifications, refusing to believe them, trying to move the massive rockslide that now blocked the path.

Nothing. The rocks barely moved.

The Valkyrie. Iona thought. She can fix this. She can fix anything.

Iona flew out of the mine at max speed, heedless of the scrapes and bruises, the cuts on her arm. She stumbled, falling down the hill, rolling down, more brambles stuck in her blonde hair. Running, screaming, crying, denying reality, wishing she could turn back time to the happy morning.

The Valkyrie will make it right. Was her only thought, her only way forward. Running on an endless loop through her head.

She ran into town, ignoring any other notifications that were occurring.

How had she missed the [Knight-Errant], the Valkyrie, the living embodiment of what Iona wanted to be? The triceratops was impossible to mistake, the snuffling noise filling the village as it happily chowed down on an entire bale of hay for a meal, the Valkyrie with her winged helmet lounging nearby.

"Excuse me excuse me please help my friend is trapped in the mine." Iona said in a single rush.

She – [Knight-Errants] of the order Valkyrie were all women – glanced at a man, who quickly nodded at her. Iona missed all of her injuries healing up, a warm glow filling her as energy filled her limbs.

"Lead the way." The Valkyrie said, picking Iona up in her arms. Iona pointed, and they were off.

They moved so fast Iona could barely keep track, the Valkyrie stopping now and then for a moment for Iona to re-orient herself, and point again in the direction they needed to go next. They got to the mine, and miracle of miracles, they’d been close enough to the exit that there were no squeezes tight enough for the Valkyrie to get stuck in.

They made it to the pile of rocks, dim light filtering in through holes in the ceiling.

"See, see, she’s stuck behind this. I can’t move it, can you help? Please?" Iona said, tugging on a rock to show the futility of her action.

"You didn’t get a notification, did you?" The Valkyrie asked.

Iona hesitated, then slowly nodded. There had been something like that.

"But but you’re a Valkyrie." Iona pleased, tugging on her arm. "You can do anything! It might not even be her. Please, you gotta save her."

Her face fell.

"Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. She’s gone."

"No! Impossible! Fix it, please, I’ll do anything!" Iona yelled and screamed, bashing her fists against her armor, ignoring the damage and bruises to her hands, ignoring the notifications of [Tough] leveling up, disregarding [Brawling] getting to level 2, the System cruelly mocking her.

Iona broke down in the cave, crying great big tears.

"No, please, not Lux, no, anything, I'm sorry, no…"

The Valkyrie looked at Iona and hesitated. She was moved by her plight, but the mine just wasn’t safe. Why the entire thing wasn’t boarded up was a mystery to her. She wanted to retrieve the girl’s body, but getting the two of them killed in a secondary collapse wouldn’t do anyone any favors.

Iona telling her parents had been bad. Not horrible though - they were a practical, bordering on cold lot, and when they came to the conclusion that food wouldn’t be leaving their table, they ignored it. Telling Lux’s parents – even worse. Rubbing salt in, they didn’t blame her, not even when she mentioned that she’d gotten credit for the kill, a triple notification that she had been to blame.

They’d all had a good cry together, Iona feeling weirdly more at home with Lux’s family than her own.

There was no body for the funeral, no need to dig a grave. No ceremony at the local Tabernacle, no [Priest] presiding and reading about Lux’s life. Just a simple Symbol of the Five Gods on a wooden stick. If Iona was lucky, it’d last three years.

She was tempted to get a Class to extend it, but no. She could simply carve another one later.

Iona spent the day, the night, and the next day, praying. Begging the gods to return her Lux to her.

They were silent. And the chance of Iona’s lifetime was in front of her.

She wasn’t going to be one of those girls that moped around and screamed when danger came, oh no. Iona was going to seize her own fortune, her own destiny. Staying in a village her entire life didn’t appeal.

"I want to be a Valkyrie. Take me with you." Iona said.

Alruna, the [Knight-Errant], looked down with amusement at Iona. She spent a long time in thought, slowly looking between Iona and the man with her, the boy following him along.

"He has an apprentice; you can have one as well!" Iona said, working on her charm. People had always said she was charming. Drat, why hadn’t she taken [Charming]?

"He’s an Order healer, not a [Knight-Errant]. That’s his apprentice." Alruna said, mouth twisting in a grin.

"Well, fine, you look like you need an apprentice. I can cook! Clean!"

Swallowing her fear, Iona approached Alruna and her steed. She barely came up to the triceratop’s knee. Bundling the loose end of her shirt in her hand, she started to try and polish the leathery skin of the dinosaur.

"See, see, I can be useful!"

"Please, take me with you. I want to be strong. Strong enough to protect people. Strong enough to defend them, even against falling mountains."

Alruna looked with a serious, scary look, pressuring bearing down on Iona.

"Do your parents know about this?"

Iona wanted to say they’d blessed the idea, that they’d let Iona run after Alruna and the triceratops carrying the three of them after they’d left town.

It’d be a lie.

Iona slowly shook her head.

"You sure? This is a hard life, a one-way ticket. The class doesn’t translate well to other walks of life. It’s a lifelong commitment."

Iona nodded furiously.

Alruna shrugged.

"Alright. Why not? You'll want to take the [Page] class. A quick breakdown of different types of elements, and where they’ll lead you."

"Fire is pure strength, overwhelming people with power."

"Water is delicate, like fencing, hitting where it causes the most damage."

"Earth is stout, all about holding the line, not falling when the time comes."

"Wind is fast, hitting and running before they can hit you back."

"Metal is smart, using a variety of weapons to your benefit, always having the right tool."

"Wood is clever, using nature and beasts around you to your advantage."

"Light is persistent, being able to heal yourself, reinvigorate yourself. Last longest in fights – if you survive."

"Dark is penetration and destruction, going through armor – and bodies."

Iona spent a moment thinking about it, before deciding to be smart about it. Ignoring adults had led to Lux dying, and she wasn’t going to make that particular mistake again, now.

"What do you have?"

"Me? I’m Brilliance and Void – Light and Dark evolved. My blade pierces through all, and I can spend hours – days even – fighting, healing faster, mana giving me energy to keep going."

Iona eyed the weapons on the triceratops’s saddle. Spears, lances, crossbows, swords, dozens of bags.

But the curved, wicked axe with glowing runes called to her, and was a skill she was being offered. The idea had been woodcutting, but the skill should apply anyways.

[Axes] was Iona’s last general skill.

Chapter 3 - The Tunnel to Terrabethia III

It only took two days of training for all of Iona’s general skills to be maxed, and for her to be ready to class up.

"Ask your guide if you have questions. Best of luck!" Alruna said, cheerfully waving Iona off.

It was amazing how easily Alruna took to having a runaway apprentice, getting barely a raised eyebrow from the healer she was partnered with. The only grousing came from the healer’s apprentice, who felt the time and attention on him was diminished, for an increase in chore load.

Iona closed her eyes, letting herself enter the world of her soul.

A grand temple met Iona’s eyes, as a priestess, dressed in a simple garb, met her.

She was cute as a button, with long, flowing, wavy blonde hair.

"Welcome, Iona."

"Thank you!"

"No desire to be a [Priestess]?"

Iona hesitated.

"It calls to me. It speaks to me. I feel, on some level, it’s what I should be."

"But it doesn’t let me protect. It doesn’t let me defend. It won’t let me save the Lux’s of the world, or defend the meek, or anything like that. It won’t let me travel with Alruna. I’ve started down this path. Maybe another day."

Priestess nodded sagely.

"Then let’s find you the best class for what you want. Come on then."

Hours of searching, of looking, of double and triple checking. Of altars to gods interspersed with altars of classing up, prompting Iona to take a break, send a prayer to the gods and goddesses, beseeching them for Lux back, for her Lux to be returned to her.

For a second chance.

After far too much time spent searching, it was the [Page] class in the end, with the only choice being the element.

It boiled down to two in the end - Earth or Light.

Both would help her defend and protect. Both gave her resilience, let her step in front of a blow and take it for another. Alruna was Brilliance, an evolution of Light, but that only factored in slightly.

In the end, the old priestess from her town was the deciding factor, one of her lectures mentioning that Mana Regeneration was the "most powerful stat". Light was associated with, attached to, Mana Regeneration, and Iona felt it was the best choice for her.

[*ding!* Congratulations! You’ve upgraded your first class – [Page] – Light. +2 Free Stats, +1 Strength, +1 Dexterity, +1 Speed, +1 Vitality, +1 Mana Regeneration per level!]

[Brawling] and [Tough] merged into [Fighting], while [Axes] moved up into her [Page] class, giving her future a vague outline of a shape. [Charming] was picked up, the lesson in convincing other people when you lacked the power yourself engraved into Iona’s mind like a rune, and [Dinosaur Husbandry] picked to start working on dinosaurs, both to support Alruna’s mount, and to prepare her for one of her own someday.

"Tell me about [Vows]." Iona demanded - asked really - of Alruna.

Alruna gave Iona a side-eye.

"I’m your Valkyrie. You are the squire. I don’t ask much - because I’ll demand the world - but you do need to be polite."

"Sorry!" Iona ducked her head. The healer’s apprentice laughed at her, a little unkindly.

Iona shot him a glare. Sure, he was a few years older than she was, and had a lot of levels. Didn’t mean she wouldn’t fight him - if she got a chance.

The friction between them wasn’t lost on Alruna or the Oathbound healer, who exchanged amused looks.

Kids.

"Can you?" Alruna asked the healer. "You’ve got a better grasp on restriction skills than I do."

"Sure. Basic rundown." He leaned back, taking a well-used teaching pose. He was teaching an apprentice after all, and healers got better skills depending on their medical knowledge. Long hours of study were mandatory for them all.

"Restriction skills permanently bind you, in exchange for providing power. Doesn’t matter if it’s a [Vow], [Oath], [Promise], or any other name. They all do the same thing."

"I want the best one!" Iona jumped in immediately. Alruna lightly clipped her head for interrupting.

Iona opened her mouth, then closed it. She was learning.

Plus, this was her one shot at becoming a Valkyrie. She wasn’t going to ruin it over stupid stuff.

But boy oh boy, she was going to teach the apprentice a lesson for sticking his tongue out at her over that.

"First, you need the proper mindset and the right conviction. Someone simply wanting power, without believing in what they’re saying, won’t get offered the skill. Here, try getting the [Healer’s Oath], and you’ll see what I mean."

"What if I get offered it anyways?" Iona asked.

"Then you can just reject it." He patiently explained.

"Oh, ok."

For some reason, that was the funniest thing Alruna had ever heard.

The Oathbound healer gave Iona the words to the [Oath], and she dutifully recited them.

Nothing happened. Iona wasn’t surprised.

Not being able to hurt people except in self-defense? Yikes, no wonder the healer needed Alruna as an escort.

"Well, there are two different ways of building a restriction skill." The healer patiently switched tracks. "The first is you can copy an old skill. Most healers follow this path, taking the [Healer’s Oath]. If you only make a few small changes, it’s the same skill, as far as the System is concerned."

He touched two fingers to his forehead. The gesture of one who worshiped the System itself, as opposed to any gods or goddesses.

"The alternative is to make your own." He continued. "Think of what you’re promising, and swear it. Now, there are benefits to each method. Picking a tried-and-tested [Promise] lets know you exactly what you’re getting into. You know the benefits and costs ahead of time. However, they’re a bit weaker. They’re not as powerful. The [Healer’s Oath] only gives 3% to Magic Power, Magic Control, and knowledge per level, but only when healing. The original maker of the [Oath], on the other hand, probably got 4%, or even 4.5% per level! However, he had no idea what the [Oath] would mean as he made it."

"Why wouldn’t I make my own?" Iona asked. It seemed to be the obvious choice.

"Because it could be weak." Alruna interjected. "You could bind yourself so tightly that you can’t move. You could tailor it to be too narrow, and it never activates. You could include a clause that ends up killing you."

Ah. When Alruna put it like THAT.

"Tell me more!" Iona pleaded. That old priestess had been right. This [Education] thing was useful stuff!

"The more specific a clause is, the more it’ll bind you, but the more power it’ll provide." He said. "The entire thing needs a theme, and that theme will determine when and how it’ll activate."

Iona could feel steam coming out of her ears, and her head was starting to hurt.

However. She wanted to keep tackling the problem.

"Oh mighty Valkyrie Alruna, the bestest Valkyrie that there’s ever been." She said, flattering her eyes at Alruna.

She swatted Iona again.

"Nobody likes a suckup either."

Iona tightened her mouth, and stopped tears from welling up.

This wasn’t fair.

This was too hard!

She mentally reset herself.

I was told this was going to be hard.

"Can you tell me some [Vows]?"

"Sure! There’s the [Knightly Protector], the [Wrathful Avenger], the [Justicar], and the [Light against Darkness] to start."

Iona leaned forward to listen, as Alruna started to recite them.

"The [Oath of the Wrathful Avenger]. Wrath is no vice when inflicted upon the deserving. I am the shepard and the reaper, and my judgment is final. I am…"

===

Iona spent a few weeks hammering out her own, personalized [Vow] with Alruna and the Oathbound healer. She picked lines from various examples, with the two of them adding in suggestions, and helping with wording. There were almost no ideas that hadn’t been used in one restriction skill or another over the years. The only thing special about Ionas was it was hers, and hers alone.

Like arranging words from a dictionary to write a book.

One morning, Iona was ready. Alruna suited up in her full gear, Iona carefully helping her strap on every piece of armor.

"The pomp and ceremony help." Alruna cheerfully told Iona, who was sweating as she tried to wrestle the breastplate into position. "Gives it the proper gravitas, you know?"

"Gravitas?" Iona tasted the unfamiliar word. There’d been a lot of those as they went over the wording of different [Promises].

"Think of it as pomp and ceremony. Seriousness. Weight."

Iona kind of got it.

Alruna got fully suited up. Trikey the triceratops acted as background, as Alruna drew herself up to her full height.

"Kneel." She ordered, and Iona did so without hesitation.

"Valkyrie." She respectfully responded back.

"[Page] Iona. What is your [Vow]?"

Iona thought about it a moment, her heart beating furiously. Her stomach a haven for butterflies. She took in a deep breath, and began. Her [Vow] was a mix of explicit but manageable lines, to grant large amounts of power for smaller costs, and more vague lines that worked together. They gave the entire [Vow] a theme, let it all work together, and, of course - they helped empower the entire thing.

First, protect the meek.

I will defend those who cannot defend themselves.

I will act with honor and with integrity.

I will not lie.

I will not be silent in the face of injustice.

My shield might break, but my spirit never will.

I will be the sheltering light, driving away darkness.

I will be generous when I can.

I will never betray another, nor my conscience.

I will act with temperance and valor

I will smite evil wherever I find it.

I will not sit by idly while evil triumphs, nor will I cower in the face of it.

I will be a force for righteous justice.

And the last line Iona spoke was one she hadn’t planned with Alruna. Wasn’t one she’d mentioned ahead of time, but had always been there, in her heart. A line, dedicated to Lux.

I will always remember you.

[*ding!* You have made the promise [Vow of Iona to Lux]! Would you like to accept this General Skill? WARNING: Vows are binding.]

Iona hit yes without any hesitation.

[Vow of Iona to Lux]: A solemn vow of protection from Iona, to Lux. +3% Strength, Speed, and Dexterity when protecting another. Breaking the Vow has severe consequences.

A much better reminder of Lux than the [Trap] skill.

This would do. Iona thought.

[Name: Iona]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 8]

[Mana: 40/40]

[Mana Regen: 528]

Stats

[Free Stats: 13]

[Strength: 21]

[Dexterity: 22]

[Vitality: 8]

[Speed: 12]

[Mana: 4]

[Mana Regeneration: 6]

[Magic Power: 4]

[Magic Control: 4]

[Class 1: [Page - Light: Lv 15]]

[Light Affinity: 7]

[Fighting: 15]

[Axes: 15]

[Minor Invigorate: 4]

[: ]

[: ]

[: ]

[: ]

[Class 2: Locked]

[Class 3: Locked]

General Skills

[Analyze: 6]

[Cute: 11]

[Alert: 15]

[Walking: 15]

[Vow of Iona to Lux: 1]

[Charming: 6]

[Education: 15]

[Dinosaur Husbandry: 6]

Chapter 4 - The Biomancer

Iona’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at the [Biomancer].

"You can really do that?" She practically squealed. She… had almost grown out of most of her childish habits.

The [Biomancer] - Lawrence - exchanged a glance with Alruna. He was an arachne, of all things, and not something seen every day. A spider body, like a gigantic wolf spider turned into an elvenoid torso of pale flesh, but that was only the start of the wonders and oddities that was Lawrence. Each leg was different. One was covered in sharp hair spikes, while a second had a chitinous blade attached to it. No - not attached, it was growing out from the leg. A third ended in a sharp point, and were those scales?!

Iona tore her eyes from the mystery of Lawrence’s body. Thinking about it - it made sense with his profession.

"I thought all squires were informed of this ahead of time." He grumbled at her.

Alruna swatted Iona, who still wasn’t fast enough to duck.

She had figured out not to backtalk Alruna, or whine that it hurt. That was the point. Being a squire was a painful job, and being a Valkyrie even more so. If a bit of pain was enough to drive Iona away?

She might as well quit now, find a nice farm, and settle down. Live in the dirt her entire life, bowing to the whims of every passing noble and lord.

"I did explain it to her." Alruna’s tone was one of long-suffering. "Half the stuff I tell her goes in one ear, misses her pea-sized brain, and right out the other."

"But this sounded totally impossible!" Iona protested. "You teased me before."

"Nothing is impossible with the System." The [Biomancer] sniffed.

"Except time travel, mental manipulation, soul magic, killing gods, blowing up the planet, destroying the moons…" Alruna promptly listed. She - and the rest of Order Valkyrie - needed the [Biomancer], but it didn’t mean they particularly liked him. He traveled around in a large loop, peddling his services, and they didn’t come cheap. Not for what he could do.

"We just don’t know how to do them yet."

Alruna gave a tiny shrug, not willing to argue it further.

"Your usual room?" She asked.

"Please." Lawrence dumped his bags onto Iona. Alruna led the way through Castle Valkyrie, with Iona struggling to keep up. Squires and Valkyries roamed through the halls, with almost double the support staff bustling around, keeping things neat, tidy, and clean.

Lawrence had a deal with the Order Valkyrie. In exchange for a discounted rate, he got treated well, and was guaranteed a number of clients every time he visited. Iona wasn’t the only squire due to get treated by him, simply lucky enough to be attached to Alruna, who’d been assigned to personally greet the mage.

One of the perks? A reserved room that wasn’t used by anyone else. His home away from home.

Iona wanted to dump the bags down, but no. She was polite to the visitor, as hospitality demanded. She carefully put them away as Alruna and Lawrence talked, just general chit-chat. She wanted to interject, to make her comments, but no. [Charming] was nudging at her, helping her interpret the situation that she was seeing. Her input wouldn’t be appreciated.

Finally, the polite chatter seemed to wrap up a bit.

"Dinner’s in a few hours, but I’m sure you’re ravenous, coming off the road. My squire is naturally at your disposal, but before I leave, can I get you anything?"

Lawrence stretched, working out some kinks in his back and neck.

"Well. I feel fit to eat a whole pig, but before that, my mana’s full. Might as well get started. Sooner I’m done, the sooner I can relax for real."

Iona nodded. Play was much more enjoyable when she didn’t have any work looming over her head.

"Right. What’s your name?" Lawrence focused on Iona.

"Iona, sir." She gave a polite bow, letting [Charming] guide how much was appropriate.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Charming] leveled up! 34 -> 35]

"Age?"

"Ten, sir."

"Eh. It’ll do. Eleven’s optimal, but I doubt I’ll be back around next year. Right. I see you’re a warrior. Going to stick with that? Double down? Go for a spellsword? Assassin? What’s your plan?"

Alruna was staring at Iona from behind Lawrence’s back. Iona knew the look well.

"I believe Valkyrie Alruna can best explain." Iona smoothly passed the buck over.

"Physical balanced front-line warrior primary, something physical secondary." Alruna rattled off. "We’re not sure what flavor it’s going to take, but it’s not going to be an assassin, rogue, or anything small."

"Mmmm. And a human." The arachne mused, looking over Iona once again. "Same budget?"

"Total, yes. Per squire? Slightly less, we’ve got three more than last time." Alruna apologized. Lawrence waved her off.

"A small thing. You always treat me so well." He waved her off. "What are we doing here?"

Iona knew she should keep quiet, but it all burst out of her anyways.

"Can you give me a sword arm? And claws? What about vampire fangs? Can I get those as well? What about-"

Iona only managed the four questions before Alruna smacked her again.

"Sorry." Iona apologized as she rubbed her head.

"No, no, it’s fine!" Lawrence laughed. "Always nice to see someone take an interest, instead of running screaming. Lady Valkyrie?"

Alruna snorted.

"It’s only slightly your call." She said, and Iona deflated. "If you’re really interested in having fangs, we can discuss it. I have a suggestion, and you’d be wise to take it."

Iona straightened up. She knew she had no knowledge about this, just fantastical stories that happened to come knocking on the keep’s door this afternoon. Jumping to what was TOTALLY COOL was probably a bad idea.

She didn’t know why - dagger fingers sounded AWESOME - but she was willing to listen.

"We’re both humans. Sadly, we’re on the weak end of the spectrum." Alruna started off by pulling no punches. "One of the things Lawrence here can do is make us stronger."

"Wait, he can increase my Strength?" Iona asked. That… was impossible, right?

"Not your Strength - your strength!" Lawrence was energized by Iona’s interest. Like all nerds, he loved talking about his favorite subject - Biomancy.

"See, Strength multiplies your muscles that are already there. You can do things to help improve the muscles yourself-"

"Like all the endless running and barrel lifting they make me do." Iona whispered under her breath. Everyone heard her, of course, their Vitality boosting their hearing, but Lawrence plowed on anyway.

"But I can make your muscles better. More. Then, as the System multiplies them, you’re much stronger for practically free!"

Iona’s eyes were shining.

"Can you also make my skin tougher? And spikes on my knuckles? And-"

The look Alruna shot Iona promised swift death. Barring that, endless laps around the castle with said heavy water barrel strapped to her back. Iona shut up.

"All that and more! The issue is, of course, money." Lawrence’s tone was apologetic, and one leg jerked towards Alruna.

"Only got so much budget for everyone." Alruna said. "It wouldn’t be fair to use all the money on one squire, and everyone else has to do without."

Iona figured that was fair. Her luck wasn’t great, and her ability to win tournaments sucked. No way would she get picked to have glowing eyes and flaming elbows.

"Muscles are best for you." Alruna put her foot down. "It’s not big. It’s not flashy. But it’ll make you stronger, better at everything you do."

"Something to keep in mind." Lawrence said. "My modifications last. It gives your body a new blueprint to work off of, and when a healer restores you, you’re restored with the modifications intact."

With some effort - Iona was still ten, the peak of kid intelligence before puberty threw it all out the window - she let go of her dreams of multiple sword-arms, and acknowledged that flat-out getting stronger was her best option. Or at least, the adults seemed to think so, and the memory of when Iona had last thought she knew better still haunted her dreams.

"That counts as a big modification." Lawrence grabbed a book out of one of his bags, and started writing down some notes. "You also get one small. Standard small modifications include eyes - either seeing in the dark, seeing further, seeing better details, etc, modification of the cardiovascular system, poison resistance, fixing your poor digestion to eat more foods, etc. Just ask!"

Most of that went right over Iona’s head. The heck was a car-di-o-vas-cular system? Poison resistance didn’t sound that great, and just what was Lawrence imagining Iona eating that she didn’t already?!

Iona glanced at Alruna, who gave her a small nod.

"Can I be big and tall?" She asked. "I want to be big and strong. I said I’d be the pillar, the shield that protects, and how can I do that if I’m a shrimp?"

"Mmm. Size modifications at that scale are usually a major modification, nowhere close to being a small one." Lawrence half-muttered to himself. "However, there’s a reason we do this when you’re younger, and it’s not just your low vitality making this possible in the first place. What I can do is fiddle with how you grow, which is such a tiny change it hardly counts. It won’t be nearly as well-controlled as a direct modification, but hmm. Hmmmm. Yes, yes, it’ll do nicely, especially as you’re a human. Now. Stand still, the image for this takes quite a long time to construct, and if I do it wrong you will be unhappy with the results."

Iona stood perfectly still as Lawrence put his hands on her shoulders, and closed his eyes.

Alruna half-snorted.

"This is going to take some time. Stay right there, and don’t move. You will know when it’s over."

Thankfully, she stuck around. For the first hour. Then the second.

It was nearing the third hour of standing still when Iona’s entire body erupted in pain.

Chapter 5 - The 300 I

Iona grunted as she was thrown to the ground, air exploding out of her lungs.

"Point!" The arbitrator yelled. "Match! Winner – Hrund!"

Hrund grinned down at Iona, offering a hand. Iona took it, letting herself get pulled up by Hrund.

"Good bout." Iona said, keeping the bitter feelings of loss out of her voice.

"Good bout. Hey, maybe if your Dark class wasn’t restricted, it’d be a better fight." Hrund said.

Iona let the bitter feelings of loss wash over and through her, letting her normally cheerful disposition show.

"Yeah! Hey, you did great. Regardless of how restricted I am, you would’ve beaten me. You got this! You can win the Yuletide Games!" Iona said, patting the shoulders of the shorter girl.

Hrund’s face lit up.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah! You’re strong, and you’re fast. Hit ‘em before they know what’s coming. Who knows, maybe you’ll impress the Valkyries so much that they’ll call it your feat of bravery!"

Hrund pumped her fist.

"Yeah! Although, it’s usually a feat of bravery in battle to get promoted from squire."

Iona shrugged. She knew that was the case, but she was trying to encourage Hrund. It was what friends did. Iona would feel a heck of a lot better losing in round one if her opponent managed to take down the entire tournament.

There was a world of difference between "I lost round one." and "I lost round one to the person who won the entire event."

Wishing Hrund luck once again, gathering her practice weapons – a wooden shield and a practice axe – Iona carefully and neatly put everything away, then headed down to the stables.

The Yuletide Games were a good event for the Valkyries. Most of them wintered at Castle Valkyrie, staying out of the howling blizzards while winter passed through Rolland and the surrounding countries. It was a good time to meet and greet, to get in touch with the rest of their Order, to train and cross-train squires.

So many high-energy [Knights] in one place needed to burn off energy, and Yuletide was the perfect time for a tournament. The [Knights] didn’t have one of their own. They were passionate women, and fatal accidents happened one time too often.

Being a squire sucked in a bunch of ways. She had to run around, do all the chores of her knight, then do chores of other Valkyries, depending on if they had a squire or not, and if their squire was around or not. "Cleaning the stables" was high up on the list of shitty tasks, but work was work.

Iona was no stranger to hard work, nor did she have any fear of it.

Plus, winter bonus - the shit smelled considerably less bad than in the summer! Small victories. It’d be better if the stalls were entirely mundane, then it’d freeze solid and Iona wouldn’t have to smell it at all, but alas. Enchantments helped keep the stalls warm, and stopped the dinosaurs from having a bad time in the cold.

One day Iona would be a Valkyrie, then she’d be the one with a squire to do her tasks.

Sure, she’d probably have even more on her plate, but the tasks would be more fun. In theory.

Iona shook off the negative thoughts, and focused on the positive. Training. Resources. A big honking castle to live in. Friends, companions. A mission.

"Heya Iona!" Alruna called to Iona as she trudged through the stables. "How’d it go?"

Iona wanted to shoot Alruna a glare that said "I’m here mucking out the stables how did you think it went", but instead sighed, and bent the knee to Alruna, clasping her hands awkwardly in a salute.

Saluting with a pitchfork was strange. Iona had a brief flash of regret that she didn’t drop the pitchfork beforehand. Whatever.

Alruna gestured for Iona to get up, which Iona promptly did. She gave a glance to her knees. The day, somehow, had managed to get even shittier.

"Hrund beat me in the first round. She was too fast and strong."

Alruna shrugged.

"Happens. Don’t let it get to you. The tournaments aren’t that important anyways."

"Yeah, but I wanted to get permission to class-up!" Iona said, no small amount of frustration in her voice.

"You’ll get it eventually. Patience. It’s not like classing-up is a guaranteed reward for winning. Heck, getting permission from winning a tournament has only happened, what, three times in the last ten years? Plus you’re here, and not, oh, mucking out the stables in some village." Alruna said, having Iona wince at how accurate the comment was. Without Alruna’s generosity, without her agreeing to take Iona with her, Iona would be a farmer’s wife in all likelihood right now. The unspoken message, "be grateful for what you have", was all too clear.

And Iona was grateful.

Still. Right here, right now, there wasn’t a lot of difference between "Mucking out the Valkyrie stable" and "mucking out a normal stable". The animals were a bit larger, much deadlier, and the remains were an order of magnitude grosser.

"Your build – heck, my build – isn’t suited to fancy tournament fights and flashy displays. You knew that when you decided to follow in my footsteps. Is it any surprise that someone with a build dedicated to single combat beats you?"

Iona frowned over piles of muck that she was cleaning out of Trikey the Triceratops’s stall. Alruna had the worst naming sense.

Well. Not the worst. Second worst. Sigrun’s was terrible, and she was in charge of titles.

Iona really, really hoped that Sigrun was in a good frame of mind, had inspiration, or better yet, someone with a good naming sense whispered a title into her ear. Sigrun was self-aware enough, and humble enough, to take good advice when she got it.

"No…" She said reluctantly.

"Cheer up!" Alruna said, grabbing a package off a shelf. "I got you a Yuletide present. Our best [Enchanter] worked on it!"

Iona stepped up the pace. She’d love nothing more than to just throw the pitchfork to the side, and tear into Alruna’s present, but she did things properly. Correctly. Slowly and carefully, making sure all the t’s were crossed and the i’s dotted. Which sucked when there was a Yuletide present waiting.

Iona wasn’t expected to get Alruna anything. As her squire, what could she possibly acquire? No, it was on the Valkyrie to get their squires something nice and practical, and some made a game out of it, trying to one-up each other.

Alruna kept playing with Trikey as Iona worked around them. Occasionally Trikey would rub her tail up against Iona, but apart from that, the two of them were in a world of their own. Companions. Partnered for life. Taking a simple joy in each other’s presence.

Squires weren’t allowed companions. Instead, they were expected to learn how to treat and handle a massive variety of animals, from small, knee-high shadow cats, to the powerful Griffin fliers, all the way up to the largest beasts. Sigrun, the grandmaster of Order Valkyrie, commanded a massive Spinosaurus, which towered over most of the other creatures.

Serratrix had a separate pen. Not only did rank hath its privilege, but size, power, and pure logistics did as well.

Sorok, and a few other "supermassive" creatures also got their own place. Squires generally didn’t tend to them. Too easy to get squashed.

It made Iona wonder – given the chance, would she take a supermassive creature? They were superexpensive to go along with supermassive. She had a long shortlist of creatures she’d like, with a triceratops topping it. Alruna’s influence.

The Valkyrie’s philosophy was to expose the squires to a wide variety of creatures, and see which one clicked and meshed with their way of thinking. Years of working with the animals, becoming accustomed to them and their needs also helped dramatically with bonding down the road. Florence’s Friends were always happy to provide potential mounts and steeds - for a hefty price.

A few Valkyries were unable or unwilling to bond to a companion to use as a mount, and while they were still Valkyries, they were lower down in the invisible pecking order among them.

Still heads and shoulders above the squires.

Who in turn were slightly above a number of the support staff, but that relationship was tricky, to say the least. On paper, a squire outranked a [Scribe]. In practice? It came down to years in service, and pure usefulness.

Sigrun’s [Assistants], for example, outranked nearly everyone in practice.

Trikey’s stall cleaned, Iona decided to forgo her usual generosity. It was her birthday after all. Instead of cleaning a bunch of other stables, she instead carefully unwrapped the present Alruna had gotten for her.

She weighed the flat, heavy package, about as long as her arm. Heavy. She had an idea what was waiting for her inside.

She slowly, carefully unwrapped the package, carefully preserving the paper wrapping. A gleaming axe, curved with a wicked edge, revealed itself. A leather grip, a slight bend. A short axe designed for war, for killing.

"Enchanted for durability and sticking to you, mainly." Alruna said, letting Iona admire the weapon for some time. "With your skills, you don’t need sharpness. Also. I’ve been planning out next year’s round. Was thinking of you as well. Rolland, Xerius, Silver, Lithos, Tuvan, The Great Tang, then back to Rolland. Should be able to swing by your village while we’re at it. You’re skilled. You’re brave. We can probably find you some scrap that’ll count as a feat of bravery. Anyways. You’ve got years before you’re 22 and need to find something else to do. I know you’ll make it."

Overwhelmed with emotions, Iona wanted to hug Alruna. Holding a deadly weapon was not proper hugging procedure though, and it’d have to wait.

Trikey nuzzled Iona, almost bowling her over.

Alruna smiled, seeing the look on Iona’s face.

"Again. Happy Yuletide. Why don’t we do some training together, while everyone else is busy watching the tournament?"

Iona wanted to pump her fist. Years of discipline drilled into her stayed her hand – but not a grin on her face.

Woo! Personalized training time with Alruna! Didn’t matter that it was Alruna’s responsibility to train Iona, she still looked forward to it.

Chapter 6 - The 300 II

Iona was on a run around the castle. It’d been a week since the tournament and Alruna’s present. The sun was shining, the weather was unseasonably warm, and Iona’s long strides were eating up ground, long blonde hair tied into a neat braid. She was running with a bunch of other squires, all of whom were at level 128 in both classes, all waiting for permission to advance.

They’d trampled the sad, pathetic snowfall ages ago, and it was practically like a springtime run.

The squires with a Wind-aligned class took the lead, followed by the Fire-aligned squires, then the Water-aligned. Wind was speed, and Fire being strength let those squires abuse their power, to convert it into speed. Water was careful and flowing, elegantly and precisely placing their feet in the right places.

But as time went on, the Fire-aligned classes flagged and fell behind, as they burned energy faster than anyone else. The Earth-aligned classes plodded along, massive endurance letting them keep going at their slower top speed for longer. As Wind and Fire classes became exhausted, they fell back, behind the Earth-aligned classes. And the Light-aligned classes.

Light didn’t directly help. Iona wasn’t faster, wasn’t stronger, nor was she tougher. What she did, better in some ways than Earth, was last. [Overflowing Invigoration] gave Iona nearly endless energy, allowing her to run, and run, and run, and run, and run. It’s why if she got lucky in the first few rounds of a tournament, she had a strong shot at winning the entire thing. Everyone else would be exhausted, and Iona was there, fresh and ready, eager to go.

It was a toss-up if the Light class or the Earth class was better in the long-haul. It really depended on the respective stats everyone had, skills, and most importantly – grit.

There was one other squire with a Light class, and she also had a Wind class. She was aiming to be one of the light, fast Valkyries, riding a pterodactyl, griffin, or some other fast flier, screaming from the sky to hit and run.

At the end of the run, Iona was in 7th place. The Wind + Light runner was in first, and a number of non-human recruits were between Iona and her. Most were beastkin of various sorts – Rabbit, cat, dog, fox, even a lumbering bear-kin – and the last was a werewolf.

Stats multiplied what was already there. Humans were on the physically weaker end of the spectrum as far as elvenoids went. Minotaurs were stronger. Centaurs were faster. Beastkin were stronger. Gorgons had their hair and…

Needless to say, in most grand ranking of elvenoids, humans consistently ended up near the bottom. Never last, but never above the halfway mark.

The [Biomancer] had helped Iona, but he’d also helped everyone else. It only narrowed the natural gap between Iona and the other non-human squires, it didn’t close it entirely.

With stats multiplying what was already there, a catkin with the same Speed as Iona was usually faster than her. A werewolf with the same Strength as Iona was usually stronger than her. A large part depended on how fast the catkin was naturally, and how they worked on their personal physical fitness and form. A werewolf was stronger than Iona, but only if they focused on exercising, if they made sure they had the base muscle mass to multiply.

Life wasn’t fair. Iona had gotten used to it a long time ago.

Iona did have some advantages. She’d won the genetic lottery in combination with the [Biomancer’s] gift, and ended up strong and tall. It gave her an advantage in reach, in leverage, and gave the System a solid base to multiply with stats.

The bear-kin was also the only one taller than Iona, and it was by a hair as the bear-kin was 6 foot 2 / 188 cm.

Really, it was frankly unfair how much of an advantage the System gave non-humans. They were showered with stats, while humans had to deal with only a +1 Free Stat. Not only that, but raw, baseline, they were significantly stronger than humans were. Nothing the [Biomancer] had done could change the stats the System granted.

At least humans had the flexibility to assign their stats where they wanted to. It made them better casters, better mages, by a small margin. They also tended to have some of the best endurance, but that was it. Just another elvenoid race living on Pallos.

Iona was toweling the sweat off of her when the grand central bell started to toll. She frowned – it shouldn’t be the top of the hour, that bell had gone off recently near the end of their run.

It kept going, and going, and Iona looked around at the other squires.

Something was wrong.

At first one squire, then the next, then all of them, abandoned the next part of the daily training, and started to stream back to Castle Valkyrie, to find someone who knew what was going on, and ask them for help.

They weren’t knights, they weren’t Valkyries – yet. Still in training. They’d brag and boast how they were the future leaders, the knights in shining armor that everyone would look up to. Yet, when push came to shove, they were lost, still looking for guidance of their own.

The Valkyries had a grand hall, a room where they could all fit. Iona squeezed in the back, seeing over most of the heads of everyone there, to where Sigrun was standing, in fierce discussion with a number of other senior Valkyries – Alruna included – along with a scout.

Iona couldn’t quite tell which organization the scout was from, but he was the center of attention.

A decision was reached, and Sigrun made an announcement to the room.

"A goblin horde is coming from the mountains, tens of thousands strong, if not larger. If they make it through the Wobby pass, they’ll spill out into the plains, scatter, burn, murder, loot, rape, and pillage their way through Rolland. They’ll be nearly impossible to stop. The mountains force them to come through the pass though, and we’re going to head off to stop them. We’ll be calling for reinforcements from the Order of the Red Lions and the Righteous Divine Fist Sect, along with calling for the King’s army. We’re also sending out messengers to as many other organizations as possible."

Sigrun took a moment, a heartbeat, letting it sink in.

"Valkyries. Move out."

Iona had to rescue one of the smaller squires from the sheer crush of bodies as everyone tried to leave through the same door at the same time.

Chapter 7 - The 300 III

"Squire Iona." Alruna said, arms out stiffly as Iona bustled around her, fastening clasps and tightening straps, getting Alruna into what she called her "serious war gear."

"Valkyrie Alruna." Iona said, mimicking her formality.

"You’re coming with me on this. We need everybody."

Iona fumbled the strap she was currently trying to thread, needing three tries to stabilize her hands enough to get it threaded.

Finally, when she thought she had control of her voice again, she responded.

"I’m honored."

Alruna snorted.

"Don’t be. Tighten that strap more. More. MORE! There you go. This isn’t some honorable fight we’re going to. This is a slaughterhouse, bloody butcher’s work. What Sigrun didn’t mention was how many of us were going."

Iona froze, doing some mental calculations.

"Hang on…" She said, thinking about how many Valkyries there were. How many squires.

How many goblins.

"300. 300 of us are going to hold the pass, including squires. Not including companions." Alruna said.

Iona froze.

"We’re all going to die." She whispered.

"Yes. We are." Alruna grimly agreed.

==========================

Iona was riding on the back of Trikey, swinging her new axe experimentally. Fearfully. Iona was suited up as well as any squire was – as well as the rest of the squires were – which wasn’t saying much. Sure, the dinosaur-hide vest was well padded, she had armored gauntlets, a strong round shield, a helmet.

Iona shot an envious look at Alruna.

She looked like a moving, metal fortress, wings on her helmet the only minor decoration.

Trikey was nearly as well-armored, with a few more open joints to better move – or charge. Trikey was running, faster than any human could run, a full stampede of all the other Valkyries and their varied companions with them.

They kept a solid distance from each other. No telling when a stegosaurus would lash its tail out, or when one of a hydra’s heads would want to take a bite out of someone. All the animals were trained, and bonded – but why risk an accident?

"Iona." Alruna directed behind her without saying anything. Iona instinctively straightened up, something in her tone of voice making her pay attention.

"You didn’t hear this from me." She said, and Iona leaned closer, as close as the straps keeping her secured in Trikey’s saddle would allow, letting Alruna whisper to her. Not that it was really needed, not with the distance between each of the Valkyries, not with the thundering roar from each of their mounts.

"Class up." Alruna said.

"What, right now?" Iona asked in disbelief.

"Yes, right now."

"I don’t have permission." Iona protested.

"Who cares? You’ll either be dead, or be able to beg permission after. I can’t imagine anyone applying the penalty to a survivor of this. Might as well see what the System gives you."

Iona hesitated. She wasn’t supposed to class up, not without permission, and Alruna, nice as she was, wasn’t technically allowed to give permission.

"I know what you’re thinking. I’ll send you back if you don’t class up." Alruna threatened.

Iona was many things. Among others, the threat of being called or thought a coward was a powerful motivator. She leaned forward, focused on classing up both of her classes, and fell into the world of her soul.

Iona opened her eyes. The temple was somehow even larger, even grander. Her guide Priestess was there again.

"Iona. Welcome back." She said, with a voice full of warmth.

"Priestess. Thank you." Iona said.

"Let’s go." Priestess calmly said, leading Iona deeper into the temple.

Iona had time, if she wanted. Time to check all her options, time to read over every choice.

Time – that could be better used adapting to her new classes, her new skills. With the fight upcoming, Iona had no time to spare.

Planning. Training. Years of calculation, accumulated knowledge of the Order Valkyrie, and long discussions with Alruna had Iona’s next class-up pre-planned. She knew what would be offered, and she knew what she’d take.

Or rather – she had a strong outline of what she’d be offered, and what she’d take. Any minor variation would be just that – minor.

Still. As Priestess led Iona to the altar where she’d pray and change her class, Iona still stopped and prayed at the altars to the gods and goddesses. It was only right, it was only natural, to give them their due, to show loyalty, fealty, and devotion.

Iona believed that you kneeled to exactly three people in your lifetime.

Kneel to your mentor, your trainer, your teacher, the one who’s given you everything. Usually also your parent.

Kneel to the gods and goddesses, the divine beings above who watch over everyone, who give you life, who give you purpose.

Kneel to your lover, the one who drives you forward, who makes you more, who makes you strive to be the best person you can be.

Iona didn’t believe in such nonsense like "completing yourself", "the other half of a soul", "fated lovers", "love at first sight", or other such nonsense. Relationships, she gathered, were not like that at all.

Not real relationships.

To neutral or unaligned altars Iona prayed to Lunaris and Selene, her favorites.

They got to the room hosting the classing-up altar, when Iona hesitated.

"Did I get…?" She asked, trailing off. Priestess understood.

"Of course. A minor variant, as you’d expect. Still. Exactly what you’re looking for." She said.

The tension went out of Iona’s shoulders.

"Good. Good! I can’t wait! And the second one?"

Priestess gave Iona a Look, like she was a moron.

"Yeah, ok, ok, I get it. Of course it’ll be there."

Iona opened the door to the room, eyes fixed on the altar. She knelt, prayed, and felt the class change, evolve.

Merge.

[Constellation of the Warrior – Celestial]

The second class was even easier. A well-worn, well-tread level 8 class. Well known, well-defined, Iona had made sure she’d gotten the requirements for it a dozen times over. Her efforts were rewarded by a higher starting color than usual, and a minor variant.

[Smooth Shot Archer – Water]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Constellation of the Warrior] has leveled up to level 169! +2 Free Stats, +15 Strength, +15 Dexterity, +15 Vitality, +15 Speed, +9 Mana Regen, +2 Magic power, +2 Magic Control from your Class! +1 Free Stat for being Human! +1 Mana, +1 Mana Regen from your Element!]

Iona took a quick look at her new skills.

Strength from the Stars: The boundless stars forever twinkle, as boundless energy courses through you. Improved stamina per level. -36000 mana/day.

Blade of the Crescent Moon: Imbue your weapons with the sharp edge of the moon, cutting and slicing through all that would block your way. Deeper penetration per level. Costs mana per activation.

Moon’s Descent: The moons above, endlessly heavy. Lift the moon up, imbue your strikes with their weight. Converts strength stat to mass when striking blows. Improved strength to mass ratio per level. -24000 mana/day.

Gaze of the Stars: The stars look down upon you with perfect clarity, as you see the flow of battle and combat with perfect clarity. See in the dark. See through light obfuscation. Improved perception per level.

Iona started with surprise as [Cute] merged into the next skill she got. Surprise! Minor variations did change things up.

Stellar Body: The constellations above shine down, immovable, immutable, in the same way your body shines, empowered by the stars to be tougher, stronger, better-put together. .5% increased Vitality per level.

Nothing was mentioned about [Cute] or looking good, but it had to be in there somewhere. Skills sometimes did more than described, especially when other skills got merged into them. Iona would bet that the [Cute] merger basically, well.

She groaned as she realized the pun.

In some ways, a bit of a downgrade. Mergers were like that. In many ways, an upgrade, and Iona got a ranged class to go with it!

Also, new free general skill slot! Iona needed to think. She needed something to help survive the coming fight.

[Smooth Draw] was self-explanatory, but [Still Water] needed a look.

Still Water: Your mind is as tranquil as the surface of a pond. Any impacts simply ripple through, restoring the mind to its former calm. Increased calm per level.

Iona wanted to pump her fist. A mental stability skill! Yes! She’d lost her old one as her Light and Dark class merged, but the System taketh, and the System giveth.

Shame that it was at level 1 though. It would’ve been nicer at a higher level.

Iona had no doubt that it’d jump by leaps and bounds in the upcoming fight.

While she was still alive.

Over 40 levels of accumulated experience though – yes please. Iona was delighted to say the least.

Trikey moved again, Iona’s head smashed against Alruna’s unyielding back, and Iona was reminded that, yes, the world kept moving around her in spite of her focus on classing up.

"Welcome back." Alruna said, sensing Iona starting to move under her own power again, as she leaned back, rubbing her head.

"Most uncomfortable class-up ever." Iona complained.

"Got what we planned?" Alruna asked.

"Yup! Celestial warrior, Water ranger." Iona said. "Also, a new free general slot!"

"Nice! What merged?" Alruna asked.

"[Cute]."

Alruna twisted in her saddle to give Iona a Look.

"The hell were you doing to get that skill to merge!?" Alruna yelled at Iona.

"I dunno! I got [Stellar Body] and it just did!" Iona protested.

Alruna started laughing.

"Well, grab something like [Dodge] or [Reflexes]. Should help a bit."

Iona decided on trying to get [Dodge]. Better to not get hit at all, right? [Reflexes] would just be her trying to dodge things anyways, might as well get the narrower, more specialized skill.

"Good work. I think we’ll have some time for you to get used to it. Anyways, now that you’re a squire with a ranger class, you’re going to be assigned to Sorok."

Iona shot Alruna a betrayed look, that Alruna obviously couldn’t see.

"Why!? I’m your squire!" Iona protested. "I’m supposed to cover Trikey’s rear. You can’t do that alone!"

"You’re not geared for what we’re heading into." Alruna said, briskly rebuffing Iona. "You can make full use of your new ranger class on Sorok’s platform. You’ll be safer. And, more importantly, you’ll have a larger impact on the battle from there."

Iona gave a leery look at Sorok, a massive brontosaurus that the Valkyries had built a solid platform on. He was practically a mobile fortress, and the only reason they weren’t moving faster was they were moving at Sorok’s maximum speed already.

Iona opened her mouth to argue more, then closed it.

"Yes, Valkyrie Alruna, the Perpetual." Iona said, agreeing, letting her minor displeasure be known by giving Alruna’s full title.

"Look, I know you don’t like it. You’ll change your mind after this is over. Hey! It could be worse."

Iona quirked an eyebrow up.

"How could it be worse than outnumbered hundreds to tens of thousands, when we’re all going to die?"

"It’s not an Immortal. It’s not the start of another round of Immortal Wars."

That was an excellent point. Iona shut up, and worked on getting used to her new skills before the battle.

Chapter 8 - The 300 IV

The Valkyries had made it to the pass before the horde. Some scouts were sent deeper in, to raise the alarm when the horde arrived. Some Earth mages were busy reshaping the terrain to better favor them. The one Arcanite mage was busy setting up some large-scale wards and buffs, sacred ground that when one of the Valkyries were standing on it, she would be stronger, faster, tougher.

Well. As long as the Valkyrie’s mana lasted. It was a rare build for a reason.

The pass was a bit too wide to collapse, too wide to build long walls tall enough to matter in time. Instead, the decision was made to get the ground as flat and level as possible, to allow the Valkyries and their companions perfect footing. 150 Valkyries and companions, side by side, with Sorok anchoring them in the middle, and they still all had plenty of room between all of them. At the level the Valkyries operated at, blows and swings were large and lethal, which meant for practical purposes, they could hold the pass.

Collapsing enough rocks that the clever, burrowing goblins couldn’t get through or around? An impossible task in the timeframe. Instead, narrowing the narrowest portion of the pass, and improving the terrain for the Valkyries and their mounts, took priority. No more ankle-breaking holes, no more awkward ledges that’d come up suddenly and break a raptor’s leg.

Alruna worked with Iona briefly to get [Dodging] offered to her, which Iona promptly took.

"Could probably get something a bit better if we had time and the records." Alruna said. "This’ll do in a pinch. Now."

"Sleep." Alruna said, still in her full gear, lying down on a thin blanket. Between the size of the blanket and Alruna’s weight in her gear, Iona didn’t see it improving anything. Still. It was Alruna’s call. "We don’t know when you’ll get another chance."

Iona mutely nodded, her stomach clenching and unclenching.

Hastily, she erected a small altar – really, just a stick stuck in the ground, with a crude symbol carved into the top – knelt down, and started to pray.

Selene. Lunaris. Hey again! Hope you’re doing well.

I’m going into battle soon. Don’t know if I’ll make it.

Hope I’ll be able to talk with you again soon!

Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope it’s some time before we meet in-person. Like, I’m not opposed, but I don’t want to die just yet.

All the best,

Iona.

Iona opened her eyes to two women standing next to her. They were wearing long, flowing robes, a radical departure from the leather and metal everyone else was wearing. One was dressed in soft yellow, the other in a light cyan. They were larger than life; one was taller than Iona, the other shorter.

"Iona. My child." The first one, the tall one in blue, said, her voice like twinkling chimes in the wind.

Lunaris.

"Iona. My friend." The second one said, her voice the warmth of a meadow in spring.

Selene.

The two voices spoke together, spoke as one, interweaving and overlapping.

Welp. Iona had just mentioned not wanting to meet them quite yet, and, well, whoops. Here they were.

The goddesses in person. Divinely manifested, away from the realm of the gods.

Awkward didn’t begin to cover it.

"You have a bit of a trial ahead of you." They said, clearly highly amused.

"You’ve been faithful your entire life, giving with barely asking anything in return."

"Except Lux." Iona said, hardly daring to believe the words coming out of her mouth. Alruna was going to beat her black and blue for the sass.

Well, it wasn’t really sass. More like, correcting a potential…

Well. Goddesses didn’t make mistakes.

"We are sorry. She is dead, and gone." They said, sorrow, raw and present, in their voices. "On this eve of the trial, we have a blessing for you, most faithful believer."

Their voices split again.

"From me, sight." Selene said, moving to one side of Iona, somehow still standing up, and kissing Iona’s right cheek at the same time. "The moons see all, and now you can see everything the System grants to any living being."

"From me, comprehension and speech." Lunaris said, kissing Iona’s left cheek. "May no language bar you. May you understand, and be able to speak with, all of humanity, elves and their ancient tongue, and every other tongue spoken under the vast sky."

Iona’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, tears streaming down her face, the tears somehow avoiding the two kisses placed on her cheeks, shining in the light.

The goddesses embraced her, one on either side, lifting her up from the ground.

"Of course. That’ll only help if you survive this." They said.

"Good luck!"

And with that, they were gone.

A shimmering barrier of celestial light that had surrounded Iona vanished with them.

Sigrun was waiting there.

With a lot of other Valkyries.

"What the fuck just happened?" She demanded.

Iona gulped.

Getting to the head honcho’s attention had not been on her to-do list.

A long interrogation later, some practice with her blessings, and the Valkyries mostly left Iona alone.

Iona mentally cursed Alruna for sleeping through her entire ordeal. Although, it would be just like Alruna to crack an eye open, see they weren’t under attack, and figure whatever the problem was could be managed the next morning.

Iona noted with more than a bit of amusement that after Sigrun’s interrogation of her, and the Valkyries confirming that, yes, Iona was now goddesses-touched, an absurd number of makeshift altars had been raised, with a number of squires and knights kneeling and praying to whichever god they worshipped.

Suddenly, everyone had found religion. The gods and goddesses directly manifesting tended to do that to people.

Sigrun had been slightly pissed that Iona’s blessings didn’t seem to directly relate to the fight at hand, and had cursed thoroughly that she didn’t get something like "one against one hundred thousand" or some absurd blessing that would save them all.

She’d been extra-pissed when Iona had said that she didn’t think she could call down a miracle. "What’s the fucking point of fucking religion if you can’t fucking call down a fucking miracle!?" Sigrun had yelled, before storming off.

Iona hadn’t realized that Sigrun’s cursing could be quite so verbose. It was like she worked in swears the same way others might work in oils or clay.

She settled down on a blanket, the butterflies in her stomach gone. Entirely.

Iona spent some time trying to identify what she was feeling.

It was… peace.

Iona had gotten her biggest hopes, her biggest fears, validated. Lunaris and Selene were out there. They heard her. They listened. They knew of her.

They had blessed her.

They had let her know that Lux was gone, forever. No divine intervention would fix or change that. It was freeing, in a way.

There was clearly something of an afterlife. If the gods were real, there had to be something after death, right? "Gone" wasn’t entirely annihilated, right?

Either way. Iona was much more ready to meet the goddesses again.

Iona laid down on her own blanket, staring up at the sky. She blinked, and –

And the sun was coming up, as scouts were running through the camp, yelling that the horde was almost here.

Iona scrambled to get Trikey something vaguely resembling breakfast, since it was likely his last meal.

"Sorry they’re not apples." Iona whispered to Trikey, patting him on his beak-like snout as he chowed down. He nuzzled Iona, almost bowling her over. How aware was he? Did he know this was probably the end for him?

"Iona. MOVE!" Alruna yelled at her, and Iona scurried over to Alruna’s side, to help secure the straps that would keep her attached to Trikey, for better or worse. She got the last strap set, as Alruna threw a pack at her.

"Yours. Get to Sorok." Alruna ordered, then flicked Trikey’s reins to get him into position.

Iona grabbed her shield, slung it over her back, then took her pack – much heavier than normal – and ran through the camp, dodging all manner of other Valkyries, companions, and squires getting ready. She made it to Sorok, with two long rope ladders leading from the platform down to the ground.

One for going up, one for going down.

Iona grabbed the ladder, and nimbly climbed up to the top.

"Goddess-blessed." Hrund said at the top, greeting her.

"Don’t give me that. Please." Iona said. "I haven’t earned a title, and-"

Iona couldn’t bring herself to say "it wasn’t a big deal". Because it was. Effortlessly understanding all the languages Sigrun had thrown at her last night had been eye-opening, to say the least.

So was seeing Sigrun’s stats, not that she’d ever admit to peeping.

What sort of monster had three well-developed classes before 40?

"Still! I can’t believe they let you class up because of that!" Hrund asked Iona.

Iona winced at the memory of Sigrun tearing into her over classing up without permission, all while Alruna had blissfully snoozed. Iona wasn’t about to throw her mentor under the bus, and took the entire brunt of Sigrun’s displeasure.

Not fun. Sigrun had blessedly ended it by throwing her hands up, and promising to punish Iona once this was all over.

Iona really, really, really hoped that Alruna was right, and that if they lived, she’d be let off scot-free. With the way Sigrun’s eyes had promised murder, Iona almost wanted the goblins to get her.

Still. Iona didn’t want even the misconception to spread. She interpreted her [Vow] to correct misconceptions that she herself inadvertently spread.

At least, that’s what Iona told herself.

"Alruna told me to. Said I’d either end up dead here, or get forgiveness." Iona said, giving Hrund a Look.

Hrund understood it.

Iona got a bow, and found where the arrow stashes were. They were deeper on the platform. It was going to be obnoxious, shooting a dozen arrows, then running back for more. At the same time – the platform swayed and moved with every step Sorok took, with every sweep of his giant tail. Too close to the edge, and things risked tipping over.

Hence some safety railings.

Iona looked around from her position on Sorok, high up above the battlefield.

The Wobby pass was a bare, rocky pass, a relatively thin slice through the mountains, with high rocks on either side. Impossible to climb, even for the bold and tenacious goblins. It was cut so deep, and so sheer, that rumor, accepted as fact, was some great blow by a creature with thousands of levels had made it.

The local geography demanded that creatures – or goblin hordes – emerging from certain places all needed to travel through this one, relatively thin pass.

Relative, for a mountain range.

Of course, it was still wide enough that 150 Valkyries and their mounts, Sorok included, all arranged side-by-side, still had significant gaps between them. They couldn’t dismount and lock shields together like legions of antiquity.

The flipside of that was, each Valkyrie had enough space to strut their stuff, to fire off their largest, most powerful attacks without fear of hitting each other. Additionally, it meant they could all be mounted.

Iona looked down, enjoying the perspective for a brief moment. Sorok had turned to the side, letting all the squires not mounted with their knight be on a single side, facing the incoming horde. They were all issued a fairly standard bow, with three specialized squires having snagged longbows. A half-dozen Valkyries were also on Sorok, either not having a companion, or having skills more of the long-range variety.

"Heya Iona." Hrund said. Iona glanced at her with her new blessing, and saw that Hrund had taken the chance to class up as well.

A quick look down the line of squires showed an overwhelming majority had gotten a similar sort of talk. There was barely a squire at 128 left.

Can’t be executed if you were dead.

"Shame we don’t have a Forbidden Four mage with us." Hrund said. "They’d be perfect for this."

Iona looked at Hrund standing next to her with shock.

"They’re illegal! The only thing they’re good for is mass-murder!" Iona protested.

"Yeah, but… isn’t that kinda what we’re doing here?" Hrund pointed out.

Iona opened her mouth, thought about what Hrund was saying, and closed it.

She hated to admit it, but Hrund was right. A Forbidden Four mage would be perfect right now. Deadly clouds of Miasma, aerosolized poison, or self-replicating spores would do horrible things to the goblin horde. Illegal in every civilized nation, which didn’t stop a number of them from keeping a few hidden, in reserve.

Nobody – not even the tiny Nime nation, who openly strutted a number of Forbidden Four classers, promising a terrible toll on anyone who tried to invade – would condone or tolerate a Void mage. They tended to randomly explode, and take out whole cities with them when they did. At a minimum. Nobody quite knew why.

A few times in history, a brave man or woman would take a Void mage class, and attempt to take meticulous notes, which were immediately sent out from their location. An attempt to record their skills, their experiments, to see what was happening.

Some would randomly blow up. Some lived long lives. There was no difference detected between the two.

Nor had a Void mage managed to – with what scarce records there were – deliberately blow themselves up. It was hit or miss, seemingly entirely random.

One extremely high-level researcher from the School of Sorcery and Spellcraft had two classes devoted to survival and self-regeneration. The best tank of several generations. She took a Void mage as her third class, went to the wilderness, and attempted to cause an explosion.

She survived, had no idea how it had happened or what she did differently, and swore off using Void magic, switching into something a bit more reasonable.

Immortals were a little crazy like that at times.

Void warriors, artisans, laborers, and more were all permitted and allowed. Mages were not. Similar to how Spore was one of the best elements for a farmer. A level of fear and paranoia surrounded the element, and people who decided to walk the path were well-advised to keep their Void element as their highest class, so they’d identify properly. Otherwise, mayors, magisters, and mobs didn’t have a very high tolerance towards people with the Void element.

Chapter 9 - The 300 V

A horn blew, and the first goblins started to make their way over the crest, funneled into the pass.

Drums started to beat, pulsing waves of energy coming off of Sorok’s back as a Valkyrie began her beat. Iona felt energized and strong. She jumped a few times, just to get some of the jitters out of her system.

"Hold!" One of the Valkyries that Iona recognized as Hara, the Incandescent shouted, raising her hand in a fist. The tiny gnome was standing on a crate, to better let everyone see her.

Discipline was good. None of the squires made it as far as they had by having terrible nerves, or by ignoring orders – especially before a battle.

The first goblins made it, and were easily, almost carelessly, dispatched. Iona watched Alruna use an incredibly long, flexible sword, and just sweep through the goblin, meeting no resistance as she did so.

[*ding!* Congratulations! Your party has slain a [Fleet-Foot Goblin] (Gale, 171)// [Quick Goblin Scout] (Wind, 165)]

Iona turned off notifications for goblin kills that she wasn’t personally involved with. She would need them for when she was fighting, to make sure a blow was lethal. She didn’t need to know about everyone else’s efforts.

Alruna’s classes were Void and Brilliance. Void gave her weapons unparalleled piercing strength, able to simply go through nearly anything, at the price of mana and skills. It was expensive to do, but that’s what her Brilliance class was for. Mana, mana, and more mana, along with boundless energy to fight for hours on end.

Days on end.

Hence her title, "The Perpetual."

Alruna, when geared for what she called "a real fight", used two swords, one in each hand. Both were incredibly thin, needing no mass or weight behind them – only Void skills – to simply carve through steel, flesh, and bone. The first was long, great for massive sweeps. It was slow though, and some small, nimble, goblin could dodge the blow, and come in close while Alruna was overextended.

Which is what her second, much shorter sword was designed to handle.

Iona’s musings were interrupted as more and more of the horde came over the hill, and Hara, the Incandescent, dropped her hand.

"Loose!"

Iona bent her bow, feeling it smoothly bend in a way she’d never experienced when training on bows before. Already, the effects of her new class were being felt. Iona loosed her arrows, along with the other squires.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Smooth Draw] has reached level 2!]

There wasn’t a need to aim.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Smooth-Shot Archer] has leveled up to level 9! +1 Free Stat, +3 Strength, +2 Dexterity, +1 Vitality, +1 Speed, +1 Mana Regen, +2 Magic power, +2 Magic Control from your Class! +1 Free Stat for being Human! +1 Dexterity from your Element!]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Archery] has reached level 2!]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Water Affinity] has reached level 2!]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Still Water] has reached level 2!]

"Fire at will!" The Incandescent shouted, before starting to fire off her own attacks.

Iona suppressed a moment of annoyance at the small sun’s worth of Radiance magic radiating off of Hara. She was the Valkyrie. Iona was the squire. The pecking order was clear.

Plus.

There was an advantage to fighting an entire army’s worth of creatures. Iona didn’t even need to look. Just fire arrows as fast as she could into the squirming, endless horde.

Free levels!

Free stats!

She’d need every stat once the arrows ran out.

The horde was streaming down the pass, being crushed and compressed into a small area. A writhing mass of green flesh, with glowing, crimson eyes. Weapons of all sorts, magic staffs, crude bows, rusty knives, sharp claws, foul teeth. The goblin horde had arrived in strength, and were moving and roiling over one another, chittering and yelling, as they boiled towards the line the Valkyries had established.

With the fluttering of a banner, the Valkyries charged.

Hundreds of tons of expert flesh, glowing enchantments, plain steel, and a few weapons edged with magic metal moved with thunderous power towards the horde. Iona saw goblins go literally flying as the press of companions, squires, and Valkyries met the front lines of the horde.

Iona loosed the rest of the arrows she had with her, then sprinted back to get more, remembering to breathe around a nervous lump in her throat.

This was it.

This was life or death.

Not just for them, but for huge portions of Rolland. Goblins got out here, they’d split and scatter, burning and looting their way through the kingdom.

There was a girl out there. Somewhere, in some village. Iona’s efforts here would keep her safe, would protect her from goblins bursting in the middle of the night.

Iona almost stumbled as she felt her [Vow] take hold, boosting her physical stats more than five times. She was protecting. She was defending.

This was her cause. This was her calling.

She made it to where the spare arrows were kept, and grabbed a handful of "fake" arrows.

They had an expert in making arrows with them, although sadly she didn’t have access to the Arcanite reserves. The arrows being conjured up weren’t quite as good as "real" arrows, mostly because it was more valuable to have two smaller, lighter arrows instead of one big arrow. Still. The expert had solid mana regeneration, and had been constantly pumping out arrows ever since the call had gone out. Stacks upon stacks of arrows surrounded her, barrels were filled, and "fake" arrows were replaced nearly as quickly as they were grabbed by the squires.

They were better than nothing.

Iona’s eyes wandered over the battlefield.

Shiva, the Destroyer. A dragonling. She stood on top of a sarcosuchus, whirling a massive glaive around her in a complicated pattern. All Iona could see was a bloody blur as goblin parts rained around her, unable to get past the shimmering metal cage formed around Shiva from her deadly dance.

More goblins went into the sarcosuchus’s mouth than there was possible room inside the dinosaur for.

Tavi, the Voracious. Darkness and Decay, she used a spear – along with having a devastating "deathtouch" ability, where with a simple touch she could carve out and remove important parts of a goblin, set their flesh rotting from the inside out. A success story – an orphan from the streets, raised up to become a Valkyrie, one of the best, one of the elites. She never got over starving as a kid, and somehow had the standard Valkyrie figure, in spite of constantly eating. Even as flesh rotted around her, even as blood sizzled near her.

Quinta was, of all things, a slime companion. Deadly Acid and Ooze, the slime simply engulfed bodies, and you could see the faces contort in silent screams as they were dissolved. Eaten alive by the slime.

The Inviolate. A cyclops. She wielded a mace and a massive tower shield, and was a combined healer-warrior. Sadly, her healing was focused entirely on herself, and her class was focused on taking and holding ground. Nothing short of death could get her to move from her position, and her insane self-regeneration on top of thick armor and thicker shield made that a nearly impossible proposition.

Speaking of healers. The only healer the Order had was an old man, entirely unsuited to a battlefield, perpetually stuck at level 256. Healers weren’t allowed to go any higher. Nobody – nobody – would give them permission. He’d only be a liability. He’d demand a squire attend to his every need, regale them with how "genius" it was that the author of the Medical Manuscripts had signed his name only "Healer", and be entirely unable to get to a Valkyrie in battle. He’d been left behind. Any survivors would be able to get to him, to fix any wounds, any injuries.

Ha. Like there’d be any survivors.

The Unstoppable. A bearkin, Storm and Lava. She towered over most of the other Valkyries, armed to the teeth. Quite literally. She had sharp metal caps over her teeth. She was slow to get moving, but once she had a bit of momentum, well – The Unstoppable.

The Unbreakable. A saurian, modeled after an ankylosaurus. Gravity nonsense. Blows that came to her were lightened, which made them nearly unable to break through her armor, let alone the tough, thick scales nature had blessed her with. She’d lash back out with a thin rapier that hit like her Tyrannosaurus Rex.

A kitsune, with the title of The Untouchable. Mist and Mirage. She was somewhere inside the thick mists, and flowing blood from the region attested to the deadly butchery she was performing. Can’t hit what you can’t see, and the tiny amount of visibility every illusionist needed to see was offset by the confusing, shifting mists hiding even that tiny weakness.

The Shiny. A fantastic example of Sigrun’s terrible naming sense in action. A dullahan who polished her armor to the point where Iona could see her own face in it, and whose classes reflected it. Mirror on Mirror, every blow returned, every skill mimicked back at the caster.

The Creator stood on her golems, pseudo-creatures of metal and stone pummeling down on goblins, impervious to their blows. The kobold had always said the golems were her companions, that they could do anything a companion could do.

Iona doubted they could give affection back, although she had to admit it – The Creator looked at her golems the same way Alruna looked at Trikey. Small creator, giant creations.

The Swift, screaming - quite literally, the banshee’s voice was a powerful weapon - down with her griffin from the skies above, impaling a high-level goblin casting powerful spells in the backline, then back to the skies in a flash, too fast for a counter-attack from the endless goblin horde.

Sigrun herself.

Valkyries weren’t like the crazy Sects, who somehow had it in their head that might made right, and the highest-level person should be the boss. That was, quite frankly, crazy talk, and more than one Sect had fallen to pieces when a powerful individual, with no leadership qualities to speak of, ended up the boss. No. The Valkyries selected their leader on administrative and leadership qualities, a Valkyrie with a vision, one who could weave a path through the complicated world. Sigrun was the leader on those qualities, and those qualities alone. If she was level 260, she would’ve still been selected to be the Grandmaster of the Order.

Her monstrous level and abilities were simply Sigrun being Sigrun, a peerless Knight in addition to her leadership and administrative abilities.

Three classes. Iona had gotten a look at them, and could now see and recognize them in action.

Mantle. Sigrun’s blade was impossibly sharp, and when it inevitably chipped, simply reformed anew. Any blow that dented her armor was fixed and restored the moment later. Offense paired with defense.

Verdant. Not a choice most warriors went for, but one Sigrun clearly had seen potential in. The ability to make small changes to herself – effectively self-doping, along with granting the boundless energy of plants and sunlight.

Lightning. Sheer, raw speed. [Lightning Step] moving Sigrun from one place to the next in a flash, blade cleaving all along her path.

Attack. Defense. Sustainability. Speed. Resilience. Sigrun had everything but weight, which was entirely irrelevant when it came to dealing with a goblin horde. She was everywhere at once, shining shield on one hand, gleaming sword in the other, goblins falling to pieces all around. A Valkyrie on one side of the battlefield could have a problem, and Sigrun would be there, covering her back silently, without a word, then in a flash be on the other side of the battlefield, running some powerful spellcaster through.

150 Valkyries. Each one trained for years, each one specialized, each one a lethal killing machine.

150 Squires. Trained… for a few less years. More generalized, eyeing up a specialty to branch into in the future. A future that would never come for most.

It wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t close to enough.

Chapter 10 - The 300 VI

Three hours in, the first squire fell. A lucky blow from a goblin took her head clean off, riding on the back of the Valkyrie’s megalania.

Valkyries were a practical lot.

The Valkyrie simply cursed, and with a pair of blows, separated the squire’s body from the harness, letting it fall into the seething horde.

Not a hair was ever seen of her again.

It was only two hours after that the first Valkyrie fell.

The Spider used her long, long hair in several thick braids to lift herself up, above the battlefield, then dozens of thinner strands of hair with Darkness to puncture through eyes, chests, heads, and more. She would brag of being a "front-line mage", and gave all sorts of shit to "weak mages who stayed in the backline." A long running feud with Incandescent.

The goblins had figured her out, and a team of suicidal goblins had thrown what could only generously be called "expired cooking oil" all over her.

A second suicidal team of goblins had jumped on her with torches.

It wasn’t enough to kill a Valkyrie, but with her hair burning and falling around her, she was unable to keep herself up and supported, and fell into the horde with a scream, a sea of sharp blades ready to catch her.

Other Valkyries had seen what was going on, and were charging their way over.

Still.

A mage, surrounded by rusty blades on all sides, missing the flagship part of their kit, didn’t last long, regardless of training, armor, Sigrun cutting through half of them, or anything else.

Her body was recovered, dozens of blades held by dead goblins indicating how she’d died.

The Untouchable must’ve died around the same time, mist slowly dispersing. How do you kill a hidden, invisible killer?

The goblin answer was to flood the area with bodies until one bumped into said killer, then start hacking away. The Untouchable was primarily focused on evasion, with invisibility being her strength and forte. Without that, she was weaker, and her tactics left her plight unknown to her fellow Valkyries. They hadn’t even been aware that she’d been in danger.

Iona fired, and fired, and fired, unceasingly into the endless horde.

It was like half a cup of water into a forest fire.

A full day, defending the pass.

A full night, without a single goblin passing. No low cunning, no tricks, no attempts to flank or sneak succeeded.

And yet.

The bodies started to pile up.

Eight fast Valkyries behind the main action ran down goblins who tried to dodge fighting and slip through.

The rocks ran slick with blood, the freezing night turning the pass into an ice rink of blood.

Footing became treacherous, even with incredible Dexterity.

Nearly irrelevant for goblins. A major disadvantage to them didn’t really matter, with how poorly the odds were stacked against them in a single fight anyways.

Significantly deadlier for a Valkyrie. A horse slipped, going down screaming, pinning its rider’s leg under its crushing body.

Life was so fragile.

It only took one blade finding the right gap to end a Valkyrie.

And yet.

Feats of heroism at every turn.

Alruna carefully killing every goblin above a downed squire in a single sweep, letting her get back to her feet, buying enough time for The Swift to swing down for the rescue.

Sorok moving into position, wiping out hundreds of goblins with every sweep of its metal-spiked tail.

A squire leaping off of her Valkyrie’s mount, tackling and killing a goblin who’d gotten into The Creator’s blind spot, who was moving in to assassinate the coordinator of the fearsome golems.

Any other time, the squire would’ve been Knighted on the spot. Nobody had the time to Knight her.

It was worse for Iona when they ran out of arrows. Well – ran out of arrows for squires. The remaining supply of conjured arrows went to the one Valkyrie who used a longbow, who lacked the skill to conjure up her own arrows.

Iona swore to get an arrow conjuration skill, to never be left in a pinch like this again.

She looked around at the field, at the situation. Evaluated what she could do. No way could she survive the drop down into the battle. It wasn’t the fall that was the issue, so much as the forest of steel waiting on the other end. Not that they were inclined to let the squires into the battle without a Valkyrie.

Alruna, for example, was far too deep in the fighting for Iona to join her.

The sun began to set once again, and exhaustion began to set in. Wounds started to accumulate. Nothing serious, but the invincible image each Valkyrie had started to crack as their armor bent from heavy blows, bruises accumulating.

Small, slow trickles of blood like the laziest river emerging from cracks in their armor, from the small joints. Nothing big. Nothing deadly. Not yet.

But it accumulated. Slowly. One small cut at a time, with each small drip of blood, they slowed. As time went on, wounds festered.

Poison was in the goblin’s bag of tricks. It wasn’t honorable fighting, but the only creature in the pass that had any illusions of glory was The Vainglorious.

Goblins weren’t insane enough to use airborne poison, nor did they have the desire – or time – to poison the earth itself. Blades, barbs, sticks, claws, feet, gloves, [Poison Bite] skills and a thousand more methods and deliveries the goblins used. It made it extra-hard on the Valkyries. It was impossible to tell if a blow was going to be harmless, or poison.

Even poison was shrugged off by most of the Valkyries, their massive vitality helping their body fight off the crude methods of the goblins.

And yet.

Now and then a goblin would’ve found a particularly nasty snake, located a deadly spider. The poison from those wounds would also be fought off, but not before flesh rotted, before muscles decayed.

Without a healer, there was no restoring a leg with a gaping hole in it. A bitten arm would have muscles weakened.

The System improved what was already there. A warrior with 500 strength was stronger than a painter with 500 strength. A bearkin was stronger than a human. When muscles rotted away, when poison took its toll, there was less for the System to work with, less for the System to improve and amplify.

Fighting was generally quick, brutal work. Fights were fast, even faster if they were deadly. A short struggle, a knife across a throat, a blade between ribs, a skill in the right place at the right time – a fight lasting more than fifteen seconds was exceedingly rare, and usually only happened when both fighters had better defenses than attacks.

Battles often lasted for hours, but again, it was rare for an individual to be involved in a battle for more than a few minutes of screaming and blood. A front-line soldier was the only one fighting, at least until they slowed down, and died.

To be replaced with a new front-line soldier, joining the bloody fray.

Or the commander might be sane, and just rotate out tired troops for fresh ones.

As for armies, the vast majority of them were made out of conscripts. Peasants, given a spear and told to march in a particular direction. Some were smart or lucky enough to have a [Soldier] class, the rest were farmers with a pointy stick.

Armies like that tended not to have huge amounts of cohesion or discipline, and fell apart quickly once they started to take losses. As few as 2% losses were enough to break and rout the army, and a single, extremely powerful, Classer could do that alone.

The Valkyries? They’d been at it for an entire day. Then a second day. The attack had started at sunrise, and as the shadows grew long, they were still at it. The sun rose, and goblins continued to die. The sun set, just as it set on the goblin’s lives. The Valkyries had taken significant losses, but showed no signs of stopping, of giving up, of routing. If anything, they simply dove into the fray once more.

But slower.

Slightly slower.

And with slightly fewer of them.

Shiva slowed, her deadly whirling glaive becoming just barely visible to Iona’s eye. Small gaps started to appear in her defense, and she retreated to a more defensible position. More goblins trailed around her.

The Swift had slowed down on her snipes, a goblin every four minutes becoming a goblin every five. Every six.

Every ten.

The Unstoppable. Every volcano cooled after erupting, every storm blew itself out.

The Banshee, whose voice was getting hoarser and hoarser. Ironically not a banshee herself.

Indeed, as Iona looked around, there was one group, and three Valkyries, who weren’t slowing down.

The squires stuck on top of Sorok’s platform. Unable to reach the thick of the fighting, for now. The future of the order, somewhat protected. The goblins occasionally took potshots at the poorly-protected girls, but the rest of the Valkyries were keeping them busy.

Frustrated. Angry. Watching the girls they’d grown up with, trained with, lived with, get cut down, one after another. Watching their mentors, their teachers, die, one at a time.

Honestly somewhat useless with the current formation. They didn’t have the combat capabilities to be in the midst alone, the armor, the levels, or the stats. Squires were paired with Valkyries for a reason.

Sigrun, the Grandmaster. Leaning on her monstrous levels and stats, leaning on her Verdant element.

The Creator, with golems that never tired, never needed a break. They wouldn’t slow – if they ran out of mana, if the Arcanite in them ran dry, if The Creator ran out of mana, they’d simply stop.

Alruna, the Perpetual. A build terrible for tournaments, for honor duels. A build designed for war, for large-scale conflict. She just kept going and going and going and going and-

"Iona." Hrund said to her, in a low, urgent voice. "We can’t stay up here."

Iona slowly nodded in agreement.

"We should ask Incandescent to leave." Iona said.

Incandescent worked by firing bursts of burning Radiance into the horde, then pausing. Iona knew she was sitting on a ton of Arcanite, but hadn’t used any of it.

Iona was judging Incandescent somewhat for it. Sure, she knew the theory that it was only for emergencies, but if this wasn’t an emergency, what was?

"We did. She said no." Hrund whispered back.

"Then it’s a no." Iona said.

Hrund shot her a look, but left, talking with other squires.

Iona watched them, conflicted.

She glanced at Incandescent. Incandescent looked back, frowned, shrugged, and fired off another burning ball of Radiance, exploding once it made contact.

"I know what they’re doing. I disapprove, but I can’t stop them. Too busy." She said. "Stay."

Iona stayed. Stayed as the rope ladder was thrown down. Stayed as the squires "stealthily" climbed down it.

Walked over as the last one went down, and pulled the ladder back up. It felt cruel on one hand, but Iona wasn’t going to let the goblins have an easy path up. Easy access to Sorok’s flanks.

Winced as Sorok didn’t give two shits about the squires, and kept moving as he needed to, as he was directed, crushing one underfoot with a sickening squish, a scream cut short.

Watched as the squires formed a solid shield wall, working in concert. Just like they’d practiced a dozen times, this one for real.

Watched as most of them got ripped apart. They didn’t have the gear for what they were trying to do, not at the level they were at. It wasn’t play. There were no holds barred, no rules of war.

There was a reason squires were paired with Valkyries. There was a reason they’d been told not to go down.

A number of squires broke at the casualties, turned and ran.

Some escaped.

Some.

Chapter 11 - The 300 VII

A few squires that stayed made it, the nearby Valkyries picking up who they could.

The only thing that was seen of the rest was a single arm, taken by a goblin as a trophy, used as a demoralizing weapon.

That goblin died fast, even by the standards of the slaughterhouse that Wobby pass had become.

The Valkyries continued to slow. There was no one heroic goblin taking them down, no massive skill coming out of nowhere. Just the slow accumulation of damage, pain, poison, cuts and bleeds.

If there was one small blessing, it was that the goblins weren’t entirely suicidal. They lacked Forbidden Four mages as well. Didn’t stop their poison, but it was small-scale, localized. Less deadly than the occasional Darkness warrior, who tried to pierce and void armor and limbs. A Forbidden Four mage might have done terrible things to the Valkyries – but it would’ve backfired on the goblins even harder.

Rather. It was possible they had some. They weren’t using them if they did.

Did it matter? Iona didn’t think so.

The Valkyries continued to slowly die, the ever present drumbeats echoing throughout the pass.

And as a Valkyrie died, a hole appeared in the already stretched-thin line. Causing each one to stretch more, to cover impossibly more ground.

Letting more goblins stream through.

Surround them.

Kill more.

Mitigated by the sheer volume of dead bodies forming walls.

Choke points.

Kill corridors.

The fight was ever-changing, ever-moving, ever-shifting. Iona found it impossible to follow, even as her [Gaze of the Stars] leveled like crazy.

The moons rose above the fight, the omnipresent eyes watching and seeing what happened below. Iona kept thumbing her axe nervously, taking her shield off her back, pacing, then putting it back. She wasn’t in the fight – yet. She was ready.

Why wasn’t she being allowed in!?

Iona looked around, and had a startling moment of clarity as she saw The Shining die.

We’re on the verge of a total rout.

Iona obviously wasn’t the only one who’d seen this, and a trumpet blast rang out, blasting through the battlefield, cutting through the din, blaring over the endless drumming. The Valkyries started to group up, get closer to each other, and fight their way to Sorok.

Slowly dismounting as they got near the brontosaurus anchoring the line.

Covering each other.

Leaving massive holes in the line.

Holes that goblins started to stream through, stream past, into the widening pass.

Out to the greater kingdom.

Failure, on most counts. They’d barely held for three days and nights at this point. Without break, without rest. Losing a significant portion of the Order.

A knight on a fast mount could cover two hundred miles in a day. They might not be ready for a fight at the end of it, but the distance was manageable. Reinforcements should be near.

And yet. They weren’t.

The Valkyries were grouping up, bunching together in the middle of the pass. A hard rock, jamming the flow of ceaseless goblins.

"Down." Incandescent ordered, and Iona needed no further prompting.

Four other squires had stayed behind.

Only one other followed Iona.

With the dismissive look the Valkyries gave the three remaining squires, Iona wouldn’t be surprised if they were booted from the order for cowardice.

Not that it would matter.

They were all dead, one way or another. What was the point of being a coward now?

Iona made her way down the ladder, getting rope burn as she mostly let herself drop, only grabbing on the rope to slow herself down somewhat. She hit the ground, and moved to where she belonged.

Alruna’s side.

Iona had been in fights before. She’d been on extermination missions. These weren’t the first goblins she’d faced.

But seeing the unending horde charging at her gave her pause. Made her hesitate. Caused fear and terror to strike at her heart. [Still Water] helped.

Iona didn’t crush the fear. She didn’t purge the terror from her heart. She simply lived with it, letting it lend fuel to her first desperate strike against a goblin, empowering her blows.

Iona waited for the first goblin she’d have to fight to come to her. Alruna had done a mighty sweep, bisecting a dozen goblins, and only a few had the reflexes and cunning to dodge. Two were heading towards Alruna.

One was heading towards Iona.

Iona felt her heart thundering in her chest. This goblin was using the most gobliny of weapons – a crude knife. Another close-in fighter, like Iona was. She let the goblin strike at her, letting her shield take the blow. Her arm, empowered by stats, by her [Vow], moved her axe, enchanted by the best the Valkyries had, wicked blade gleaming a light cyan by [Blade of the Crescent Moon], cleaved through the goblin with barely any resistance.

[*ding!* Congratulations! Your party has slain a [Shanker Goblin] (Acid, 199)// [Goblin Chef] (Poison, 185)]

Iona did a double take. Two advanced elements? Yikes.

Also, a Poison-chef? Iona did not want what he was cooking.

A rock came whizzing out from the crowd, Iona dodging. Barely registering the level-up notification from the skill.

Hearing a yell from behind her as it hit the back of the head of another squire. A potentially fatal distraction, if not outright fatal on its own.

Another goblin. Iona took a strong blow to her shield.

Another one.

Another one.

Another one. A cut to the shin, so bad it briefly forced Iona to one knee.

Another one.

Another one. Stabbed by a wooden spear, impossibly manipulated through a skill. No room to dodge properly. Weakened by the padded armor, still cutting through some abdominal muscles. A brief chill, a vicious splash of blood, mingling with everything else’s.

Another one.

Another one.

A Valkyrie fell. The circle tightened. The speed of goblins slipping through increased, just a hair.

Another one.

Another one. A rock to the head, Iona’s life saved by her helmet. A cut opened up over Iona’s left eye.

Another one. Iona lost use of her left eye, as blood from the cut made it impossible to see.

Another one.

Another one. A strong slice on Iona’s axe-arm, as she misjudged a distance.

Another one.

Another one. Iona’s axe was wrenched out of her hands, made it a few inches away, then magically returned to her hand, letting her bury it in the surprised goblin’s head. Her life saved by the enchantment.

Another one.

Another one. Iona felt her shield-arm crack in the most disconcerting way, as a particularly burly goblin smashed a large club into her.

Another one.

A companion fell. The circle stayed the same size, the stegosaurus’s incredible bulk forming a natural wall of steel and flesh.

Iona was sent to guard the back, to kill goblins trying to make their way over the corpse. Or through it.

And the circle shrank, just a hair, by the absence of a single squire.

Iona nearly died as she slipped on the smooth stone slick with frozen blood.

Drowning in one of the shallow stone depressions was a real risk. It was how they’d killed The Inviolate. Tripped her and drowned her in a pool of blood. Sigrun had been otherwise occupied, unable to flash to her rescue, rescuing a dozen others instead.

Not all the goblins were idiots. Crafty, smart goblins were legion, and once they’d noticed The Swift was no longer picking goblins off left and right, some seriously powerful goblins took to the field, raining Lightning down on the circle.

Incandescent demonstrated what "an emergency" was, as she filled that particular section of the horde with an ungodly number of blasts. A smooth, glassy circle was all that was left of the spot when she was done.

Only for blood to start seeping in, pooling and filling it.

The hydra roared, as a head was cut off, and Iona watched in sick fascination as two heads grew from the stump.

Angry.

Rapidly snapping at goblins, who screamed and tried to flee. Too many goblins pressing in gave them nowhere to run to, and they went down the hatch.

The sun rose. The sun set.

Half the Valkyries were left.

Half the companions were left. Not always the same half.

Only a small number of squires left. Mostly the lucky few who’d survived with their Valkyrie so far, or who hadn’t left Sorok of their own volition.

It was noon on the second day when it hit Iona - delirious from a lack of food, from having sweated out most of her water, yet another crude poison coursing through her veins, causing her vision to swim, making her hallucinate – when the truth of the matter became reality for her. She’d denied it in her heart of hearts, believed that this would just be another tale, her moment of glory.

Ha. Glory. There was no such thing here. Just butchers. Chop. Chop. Chop.

I am going to die here.

This was her grave. This was her funeral.

Iona shook her head, casting aside the fatalistic thoughts, getting a small ember, a small spark of hope.

I will survive.

Alruna seemed to have come to the same conclusion, a grim look on her face replacing her usual calm demeanor in fights.

The goblins had figured out how to make the Valkyries angry. Drag a companion’s body away. Cook it in front of them.

Eat it in front of them.

The goblins that did so were of the particularly stupid variety, as not only were they making it harder for their fellow goblins to get into the fighting, but they’d all die, as the Valkyries targeted them.

Targeted them – over closer, more dangerous goblins. After all, a detached [Strategist] would note that goblins eating mid-battle was no threat. A [Historian] might note the poor decision making.

Ha.

Who were they, what were they, to pronounce judgment from so far away? When had they seen their friends, their companions, their lifelong partners eaten in front of them? Anyone would be enraged.

Nobody broke. Not anymore. Nobody ran. Not after the squires had bailed, only for whooping goblins to run most of them down. Nobody offered surrender.

What was the point of breaking?

Where could you run to?

Death was preferable to surrender at the hands of goblins.

The only thing they could do was stand, and fight.

Fight to the last woman standing.

Fight to buy time.

Fight to slow the horde down.

If they were not here, this tough bunch of Valkyries, the horde could pour through uncontested. As it was, goblins couldn’t physically pass through the Valkyries, had to engage them. Had to fight them. It was only on the fringes, the edge, where more cowardly goblins slipped through, down the pass, out into the plains.

And villages.

A few – only hundreds per hour, as opposed to the tens of thousands – was a manageable number. Difficult. Damage would be done. But possible to hunt down, to exterminate. Cities wouldn’t be sacked; towns wouldn’t be pillaged. Only villages would be burned.

Iona was hellbent on there being one less village burned. One more life saved. It would be her invisible, unknown legacy. Someone out there was going to be alive because of her actions here, today. Iona had no idea who it’d be. They’d have no idea who Iona was.

But.

Her. Actions. Mattered.

Could there be a finer end?

"Out!" The Creator yelled, and the circle shrunk again, as the golems were left on their own for one last set of attacks, before running out of mana.

Left frozen, they were quickly dismantled by goblins, never to be reanimated again.

A goblin swung at Hrund, and she weakly attempted to parry. She was unable to keep a grip on her blade, pure exhaustion having weakened her.

She barely resisted as she was run through, glassy eyes staring at the sky. All the strength, all the speed, all the dexterity, didn’t matter before the cruel realities.

Injuries. Wounds. Bites. Scratches.

Exhaustion. Fatigue. Weariness.

Cuts. Stabs.

Poison.

Exactly what Alruna’s build was designed to defeat.

Exactly what Alruna had insisted Iona build around to beat.

Boundless energy. Peerless penetration. A build unsuited for tournaments. Perfect for slaughter. Why injure, when you can kill? Why overpower, when you can outlast?

The sun set, and there were eighty in total. A rider with a red banner, not a Valkyrie, flew overhead. Circled them once.

Left.

Chapter 12 - The 300 VIII

The sun rose on thirty left. Barely a speedbump at this point. Goblins swarming around them, after better, easier, more plentiful prey. Why fight the powerful warriors, when there were fresh villages out there, ripe to burn and loot?

Sorok had died, brought low by powerful skills and rocks slick with blood, crushing a number beneath him as he fell. The drums were silenced at last.

The Valkyries drums. The goblins had their own sick beat, their own tempo they moved to.

"Where. Are. They!?" Alruna yelled at Sigrun.

"Why the fuck do you think I know?!" Sigrun yelled back. "They should’ve been here yesterday!"

Iona had kept a small spark of hope alive. It died at that.

The rider had seen them. Had signaled to them.

The sun was setting on thirteen of them left.

Companions included.

No reinforcements had come yet. None of the Orders or Sects that the Valkyries had messaged showed up.

The Swift was no longer around, her and her griffin brought low by a trap. It had required goblins to sacrifice themselves, but when had they not?

The Voracious had died, goblins willing to die to land a blow. Her build didn’t matter in the face of suicidal foes, of accumulated harm.

There was now a great stampede around the Valkyries, goblins climbing over the bodies of their fallen dead to reach the plains below. The Valkyries could barely slow them down at this point, forcing those nearby to reckon with them, not nearly enough of a presence to force a large number to stop, to significantly slow the horde.

The Valkyrie’s intel had been bad. It wasn’t tens of thousands - it was hundreds of thousands of goblins, pushed out of the Below Levels by some greater force, causing a mid-winter migration. An entire nation on the move.

As ferocious as the Valkyries were, as deadly and lethal that the Wobby pass was - the force behind the goblins was scarier. The goblins were content to throw themselves into the meatgrinder, sure that it was the best option they had.

The Valkyries, the measly 300 of them, had slaughtered tens of thousands of them, gotten their bodies stacked so high that the size of the pass had shrunk, forcing the goblins to constantly contend with them. That is – if they could properly turn dead goblins into building material. If goblins had any problem at all over walking over their own dead.

Iona shuddered at a goblin casually reaching down and ripping off the arm of a dead goblin, and starting to happily chow down on it, barely giving the Valkyries a glance as he strolled down the pass.

Barely caring as his fellows died to the Valkyries.

Others took to the high ground made by the bodies. Pelting them with slings and primitive arrows.

Throwing skills at them. Mages and skills weren’t restricted to humans, and with The Swift no longer assassinating powerful goblin mages, with the high ground, with the ability to reach out and kill goblins from a distance all but gone, more and more mages were coming out of hiding.

Not just mages had skills.

There was no such thing as a primitive arrow shot, not when skills were involved.

And then there was 12.

And then there was 11.

And then…

The goblins…

Stopped.

They stopped trying to run around. They stopped trying to kill the Valkyries.

They did keep climbing up the bodies though. Over and through, down the pass.

Through the crowd, a particularly large goblin emerged.

In a broken language spoken by the Valkyries, he spoke.

"Surrender. Or. Die." He croaked out, clearly unused to the tongue.

Sigrun held up her hand, reminding everyone that she was the boss.

"We’ll discuss it." She said.

Shocked and betrayed looks from half the survivors.

The other half knew it was a ploy to stall for time, to stall for some mythical reinforcements. To give them all a breather.

"Short time only." The goblin said, before vanishing into the crowd.

"We’re not-" Iona started to say, before Alruna covered her mouth.

"Shhh. Dunno if they can hear us. Drink." She ordered.

Iona brought her waterskin to her mouth, hoping against hope that she’d gotten another miracle and the waterskin had been magically refilled since the last time she checked.

Nothing.

The world was still blurry around her.

The last Water mage squire died yesterday.

Sigrun took a moment.

"All of you here, present now." She said to the three remaining squires. "Can call yourselves Valkyries."

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Squire’s Steadfastness] has evolved into [Valkyrie’s Valor]!]

Iona smiled, happiness blooming in her heart, even through the terrible conditions. She’d spent more than half her life working towards this goal, waiting to hear those magical words from Sigrun’s mouth.

The situation could be slightly better though. Like seeing the next sunrise. Being able to tell someone about her promotion.

"You decide now." The grouchy goblin was back.

Sigrun looked at the Valkyries. Looked at the goblin, head held high, back straight, sword and shield relaxed by her side.

"No." She declared.

Sigrun had a slim chance of getting out of this alive. She could blitz down the pass, fight and escape out on her own with sheer power, speed, and skills. A few of the other Valkyries might be able to succeed in a fighting retreat.

The goblin grunted, and Iona realized she understood him.

"Fire." Was what he said, and the goblins that had been climbing up the mountain of bodies unleashed all manner of stones, arrows, skills, javelins, and more, down upon the hapless Valkyries.

The Valkyries interlocked shields and huddled under it, Serratrix curling up intelligently, creating a massive Spinosaurus-size bulwark.

"We are so dead." Alruna said.

"You don’t say." Iona retorted, all fear of retribution gone, an exhilarated thrill running through her as she broke the rules.

What was Alruna going to do, kill her?

Somehow, that broke the tension, and the Valkyries laughed.

What else was there to do, when death was rattling on their shields? Heating up their shields, so hot they’d need to drop them, open a hole in their wall, rain arrows in through it. Kill more. Cascade harder.

Rain started, a pitter-patter, rapidly becoming a downpour.

But – hang on. Iona frowned. There wasn’t the distinct sound of water hitting metal that she’d expect to hear from rainfall. The rain wasn’t hitting their shields at all.

Instead, screaming, high pitched cries of agony that twisted the knife right in her ears.

Slowly, one at a time, the Valkyries peeked over and through their shields, to see what was happening.

Green rain was pouring from the skies, leaving a neat circle around the Valkyries untouched. As each droplet touched goblin flesh, smoking, sizzling holes were left behind.

The screaming was stuff of nightmares.

Iona looked up.

High in the sky, a figure floated, wearing the customary yellow mage robes of a level 2000-2500 member of the School of Sorcery and Spellcraft.

======

"The rat-faced BASTARDS." Sigrun yelled from on top of Serratrix. All the Valkyries were on Serratrix. Him and the hydra were the only two companions who survived, and the hydra was in a foul mood. The Valkyrie who was his companion had died, and he’d left. Nobody tried to stop him, not after the fight they’d all bee through. Serratrix’s glorious sail was shredded and torn, and he was barely limping along. The Order of the Red Lion had "patched him up the best they could", which was a bald-faced lie.

The Valkyries had waited until the acid rain had ceased, then needed to wait even longer before the pass was safe enough to walk down; that they wouldn’t dissolve in puddles of deadly acid left over. The fumes though – all of them needed serious attention from healers after what the acidic fumes had done to all of them.

The Order of the Red Lion, the kingdom’s army, headed by the 2nd prince, and the Righteous Divine Fist Sect had met them halfway down, taken care of them, and helped them retrieve what little was left of the bodies of their fallen, including wrapping up most of the weapons and armors for easier transportation. At which point, the Valkyries promptly left, not wanting to be gawked at. Wanting to lick their wounds at home.

"What happened?" Alruna asked. They were finally far away enough from the other forces to have half a conversation.

"They set up a second defensive line further back, and left us all to fucking die. I know the Orders don’t get along, but trying to wipe us out?!" Sigrun yelled. "The only reason any of us are alive is the fucking School of Sorcery and Spellcraft had a bored Classer wanting to take a look! The Orders wanted to loot our dead fucking bodies! Even as-is, we don’t have a fraction of the bodies or armor we should have, and I fucking know the goblins didn’t take them all!"

Sigrun wasn’t quite making sense – being up for that many days in a row, with that much of an emotional rollercoaster would do that to anyone – but the point was there.

Iona didn’t quite agree with Sigrun’s ranting and raving. By the time the scout had flown overhead, the horde was pouring around them. Any defensive line constructed would’ve needed to be much, much larger, and much longer. They couldn’t let goblins escape anymore than the Valkyries could, for much the same reason.

And pushing back against an unending horde, when disadvantaged and on the back foot? Sending in a strike team to retrieve them? Iona didn’t think it would be a wise move. It was unfortunate, but between the risk of losing their own line, and letting the horde break out, versus saving some powerful warriors who signed up for it?

Enough knights in the Red Lions had [Oath]s that demanded they act honorably. That would’ve frowned upon deliberately leaving a nominal ally to die when there was any other choice.

And there were literal mountains of dead bodies. Finding all the fallen Valkyries and their gear, especially when some had been stripped and carried away mid-battle, was impossible given that Sigrun had them moving out in less than a day.

It didn’t stop Sigrun from being pissed as hell, and blaming the Order and Sect for the massive losses the Valkyries had taken.

"But we survived." Iona pointed out, feeling a lot more confident, a lot more at ease. Blessing every breath of air, every blade of grass, every caress of the wind, the setting sun, the twinkle of the night stars.

"We did. It was a pyrrhic victory though. They won. The Valkyries have been destroyed." Sigrun said bitterly. "After we saved their kingdom and lands to boot. They were all ‘oh, it’s such a shame your numbers have been reduced so far. We’re going to take over managing Soria town.’ And the worst part is I can’t even say they’re wrong! We can’t manage Soria town anymore, or almost any of the others."

"We’re as good as dead." Sigrun finished.

Iona took a moment to look at her level-ups. "Epic" didn’t begin to cover it.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Constellation of the Warrior] has leveled up to level 256! +2 Free Stats, +15 Strength, +15 Dexterity, +15 Vitality, +15 Speed, +9 Mana Regen, +2 Magic power, +2 Magic Control from your Class! +1 Free Stat for being Human! +1 Mana, +1 Mana Regen from your Element!]

All of her skills had also capped out at 256 – except her Water archery skills, which were all capped at 32. Iona had no doubt it’d shoot up massively once she classed it up.

"Sigrun. Permission to advance my class again?" Iona asked.

"Yeah, fine, whatever. I don’t care. We’ll just say it was needed in the heat of battle. Nobody’s going to give us any grief, not when we’ve been practically wiped out. You can all advance." Sigrun said bitterly. "Might as well do it before we’re given the official notice that the number of Classers we can have is being reduced."

There was no joy in Iona. Not with the loss. Not with all her friends dead.

A pause passed, before Shiva spoke up.

"Gotta title the new Valkyries." She said.

"Ah right. You." Sigrun said, pointing to the first of the three newly promoted Valkyries. "Errr. The Goblin Slayer."

The Goblin Slayer took her new title with a neutral expression. It wasn’t the best, but it spoke of an epic feat, and expectations to come.

"You." Sigrun said, pointing to the next one, pausing a moment, straining hard to think of something, coming up basically blank. Her terrible naming sense took over.

"The Goblin Smasher."

Everyone winced at that one. The newly titled Valkyrie didn’t look happy. Sigrun pointed to Iona last.

"You." She said, and everyone waited for the hammer of terrible names to swing and smite Iona. If it was bad enough, nobody would ever call Iona by her name ever again.

"I have a Celestial element!" Iona said, thinking fast, hoping to derail Sigrun into a different thread, a different terrible naming sense. Anything to not be "The Goblin Musher"

Sigrun looked around briefly, at the twinkle of the new stars, the last rays of the sun vanishing over the horizon, at the rising of the moons, and named Iona.

"The Dusk."

[Name: Iona]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 16]

[Mana: 2520/2520]

[Mana Regen: 152256]

Stats

[Free Stats: 378]

[Strength: 2309]

[Dexterity: 2310]

[Vitality: 2579]

[Speed: 2579]

[Mana: 252]

[Mana Regeneration: 1946]

[Magic Power: 462]

[Magic Control: 462]

[Class 1: [Constellation of the Warrior - Celestial: Lv 256]]

[Celestial Affinity: 256]

[Combat Instincts: 256]

[Weapon Mastery: 256]

[Strength from the Stars: 256]

[Blade of the Crescent Moon: 256]

[Moon's Descent: 256]

[Stellar Body: 256]

[Gaze of the Stars: 256]

[Class 2: [Smooth Shot Archer - Water: Lv 32]]

[Water Affinity: 32]

[Archery: 32]

[Smooth Draw: 32]

[Still Water: 32]

[Blind Shot: 32]

[: ]

[: ]

[: ]

[Class 3: Locked]

General Skills

[Analyze: 180]

[Valkyries Valor: 256]

[Dodging: 256]

[Footwork: 256]

[Vow of Iona to Lux: 256]

[Charming: 169]

[Education: 222]

[Dinosaur Husbandry: 234]

Other

Blessing of Selene and Lunaris

Chapter 13 - Julie d’Audrey I

Dread Pirate Iona adjusted her tricorn hat as her commandeered ship cut through the waves, flying Iona’s personal flag.

The Wakacola sea wasn’t the largest sea on Pallos, but it was the one that fell under the Valkyrie’s ever-shrinking area of protection. Unfortunately, after the goblin catastrophe and the practical fall of the order, there were less than two dozen Valkyries left, which had them stretched to the breaking point trying to cover everything.

Which meant some problems didn’t get the attention they needed. Some problems grew.

Like the rampant piracy problem on the Wakacola sea.

Grandmaster Sigrun was stubborn. She refused to shrink the scale that the Valkyries operated on, or the territory that was under their protection – and that, in turn, paid them. That hadn’t stopped other Orders, Sects, nobles, and anyone else who thought they could steal a slice of the pie from encroaching on their territory, luring away towns with promises of prompt protection.

Iona was conflicted on the matter. On one hand, she saw Sigrun’s point. The Valkyrie order would come back, one day. By letting it shrink, the size they could grow to in the future, and the speed it would occur at, would be limited.

On the other, if Sigrun had properly reevaluated the size the Valkyries could operate at, people wouldn’t have gotten hurt. There wouldn’t be pirates on the Wakacola sea. The Valkyries would have more time to train new recruits, although the pool of candidates would be shrunk.

Iona was a full Valkyrie, and one of the extraordinarily rare people to be permitted to have a combat class above 256 without being sworn to nobility. A perk of the order, which the [King] of Rolland had yanked once news of their diminished size had reached him.

Not before Sigrun had made absolutely sure that every surviving Valkyrie had classed up past 256 though. There’d been some grumbling over it, but they’d technically followed the laws as written. From what Iona could tell, the lords and ladies were slightly annoyed, and had decided.

They’ll die out soon enough. No sense in kicking up a fuss now. Just play the long game.

Which had Iona – and the surviving Valkyries – pissed.

They would not go gently into the night.

Nor would they swear themselves to a noble, and let themselves get absorbed, becoming just another elite unit under some duchess. Their independence was just one small part of their pride.

Which, from what Iona had gathered, was causing some more subtle tensions. Not all the nobility wanted the Valkyries gone. The king, in spite of yanking their ability to have more large classers, had given them some support. Mostly in the form of public speeches and a break in taxes, but it was more than nothing. It wasn’t like he was some fantasy [Absolute Ruler], able to do what he wanted. No, he needed consensus, and to get other nobles on his side. Which, in this particular case, he had some. Not all of the nobility wanted them gone.

The only ones that wanted them to stick around lived nowhere close to the Valkyrie’s lands, and gained nothing if they were fully eliminated. However, their rivals would gain.

In short, the only people that cared for the Valkyries because they were Valkyries, and not because they stood to gain or lose themselves – were the Valkyries themselves.

Still. There was more territory, and more problems, than the Valkyries could handle, and Iona was given more-or-less discretion to decide which problems she’d tackle.

She unfolded a letter with well-worn creases, which had prompted her to visit the Wakacola sea, and handle the pirate problem.

My dearest Iona

While our time together has been nothing short of extraordinary, I am deeply saddened to inform you that my father has discovered our relationship. He has delivered an ultimatum to me – marry Matthieu d’Baschet of the Baschet Trading Emporium, a most unpleasant man which I have told you about – or join the Abbey of the Guiding Waves.

I always knew that one day I would need to make a choice like this, and my answer was easy – I have elected to become one of the nuns at the Abbey of the Guiding Waves, as a more peaceful life calls to me.

We always knew our time together would be short, a brief fling, two ships passing in the night.

Do not cry for me! I am happy with my choice. My only regret is that I was not able to see you one last time, not able to place one last kiss on your red lips. I was not able to feel your hands along my tail. I was not able to...

The letter got quite a bit more lurid after that point, to the point where even Iona was flushing reading it.

Yours,

Sister Julie d’Audrey.

Well. If it was Julie’s one regret that she’d never see Iona again – Iona was going to fix that.

A small voice whispered in Iona’s ear that this might not be the only letter Julie had sent out, but that was between Julie and the other letter senders.

It helped that the Abbey of the Guiding Waves was on the Wakacola sea, and Iona was killing quite a few birds with one stone. Handling the piracy problem, seeing her old friend, possibly for the last time, and making sure that the Abbey where her friend was going to wouldn’t be bothered by said pirates.

All in all, a fairly neat and tidy arrangement. Sigrun hadn’t even raised an eyebrow when Iona had come and requested the assignment, the dust from her old job still on her boots.

Not that any of the Valkyries had time to get the dust off their boots. Too much to do. Which neatly looped around back to Iona’s thoughts on reducing their size, and taking the time to properly recruit and train the next generation.

Big, flashy deeds were great for recruitment though…

Iona once again thanked her Patrons for her not being the Grandmaster, and someone else having all the headaches.

"Whatcha got there?" A nasally voice came from over her shoulder, and an embarrassed Iona whirled around, mentally reaching for her armor, ready to slam it into position, and physically reaching for her axe.

It was just Woodrow ‘Bird’s Eye’ Payne, one of the more reputable pirates, if such a thing existed. Iona had started small, and by "small" she meant "quietly requested passage on merchant ships until a pirate ship eventually visited, and murdered nearly the entire pirate crew." It spoke to just how bad the pirate problem was that it’d only taken three trips for her efforts to bear fruit, and not years.

It amazed Iona that anyone was even still trying to ship goods around.

The merchant crew had looked more than a little green as Iona had single-handedly slaughtered her way through the pirates, only sparing a few of the weaker, less combat-inclined ones.

Still, Iona couldn’t crew an entire ship by herself, nor did she even have any idea how. Hence, she spared a few of the more cowardly pirates, those without a [Piracy] class or skills, to better sail her brand-new ship around for her.

Iona’s ability to look at people’s skills – all of them – was quite the boon. It wasn’t perfect, but Bird’s Eye lacked any fighting classes or skills, which made his story of being gang-pressed into service by pirates believable. The skill helped in fights in other ways.

"None of your business. You should go swab the sails or something." Iona retorted back.

She’d spared him, and a dozen other pirates, to form some semblance of a crew.

And directions.

"You sure? You do spend a lot of time... looking... at..."

Bird’s Eye trailed off as Iona’s look steadily grew stormier with every word he said. She towered over him, and wasn’t afraid of using a little intimidation. Especially not when it came to her personal matters.

"How about I get back to swabbing the deck or looking for ships, eh?" Bird’s Eye said, quickly clambering up the line to the crow’s nest.

Iona sighed, and turned back to the waves. They weren’t moving fast, but the pirates had been working together.

"This is a terrible mistake." Petey ‘Cowardly’ Paddley said. "Lord Admiral Bloodpyre’s going to kill us all." He cried out.

Iona gave him a flat look. Nobody with the name ‘Lord Admiral Bloodpyre’ was going to scare her.

"Yeah, yeah, you’d kill us faster..." He muttered under his breath, continuing to haul lines as needed.

Iona hadn’t threatened anyone – not directly. She’d simply fought and killed most of the pirates, and had started yelling orders out to the remaining pirates, who’d decided not to argue with the one-woman wrecking crew.

Iona was slightly out of her depths here on the ship, and was somewhat regretting her choices. Still, the ship was moving, and with the collective spine of the remaining pirates not enough to support a mannequin, she wasn’t afraid of treachery, or them steering her wrong.

No way were they going as fast as they could. Or doing everything properly.

Iona eyed a storm that was starting to brew on the horizon, weighing the chances of the ship making it through intact.

Ah well. Worst-case, she could swim. Being a physical Classer was awesome.

She leaned forward on the bow of the ship, taking a moment to enjoy the spray of the waves, and the rocking of the boat. Iona spent a few moments letting the sea water spray her long hair, then turned around, leaned back, and took in the view of the ship.

She could see most of it from where she was, and it was an interesting angle. Iona took out her notebook and a pencil, and started to sketch the scene, as seen from where she was.

Everyone needed a hobby, and Valkyrie Dusk’s was one she could practice on the road. It was somewhat useful to boot, as her practice [Drawing] occasionally came in handy when she needed to sketch out a person’s face, or make a crude map.

Mostly, she drew the people and places she’d been. When she came back from a mission, she dropped off her notebook, got a new one, and kept going. It made a sort of travelog of her journey and adventures, snapshots into each of her missions.

One day she’d get a companion, and if nothing else, she’d have more time on the road to sketch.

Less time overall, as companions needed care, attention, and love, but more "on-the-road" sketches.

Possibly new points of view! Most certainly new subjects to draw. She’d have the cutest companion!

Iona finished with a sketch of the ship, and since the storm hadn’t quite blown in yet, she flipped the page, and decided to sketch Bird’s Eye, high up in the crow’s nest.

Interesting view. Iona mused, as she tried to get the line of his jaw just right. Might give him the drawing when I’m done.

Might be good for morale.

Iona continued working through the night, [Gaze of the Galaxy] giving her near-perfect vision.

Fortunately, the storm mostly missed them, and was extremely mild.

Chapter 14 - Julie d’Audrey II

"Cave’s ahead!" Bird’s Eye yelled, which had Iona glance around for a moment before climbing up the ropes to the nest herself.

Yup. That was shore and a cave, just like the pirates had described.

"Full speed!" Iona shouted, pointing towards the cave.

"We are going full speed…" Bird’s Eye muttered – not quietly enough for Iona to not hear.

"But we’ll crash." Cowardly whined from below.

"So?" Iona asked, giving him a puzzled look. "What do we need this boat for after anyways?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it, a thoughtful look on his face.

It looked completely wrong on him.

They closed in rapidly on the cave, charting a course like a sailor that had four too many beers. The downside of eliminating all the competent pirates when she took over the ship. Iona didn’t care too much, as long as they got there, but it was slightly irritating that the pirates would have more than enough time to prepare.

She mentally shrugged. Such was life.

A pirate ship came out of the cave to "greet" Iona and her crew, with Iona’s flag clearly indicating her allegiances.

"Not-Pirate."

Iona knelt, and sent a quick prayer to Selene and Lunaris, her patrons.

"Selene. Lunaris. I’m going into battle now. Pirates. It’s not going to be pretty. But it’ll help the people here. They need protection. Anyways. Going to be in an abbey after this. I’ll see if they’re cool with me sending you a prayer from there. Talk to you soon!"

Iona stood up, and mentally reached for her armor. With a thought, it flowed from her back, around her chest, down her arms and legs, the Mallium merging and contorting to her form, flowing like liquid before hardening once it was in position.

The final touch was the helmet, the metal climbing up Iona’s neck, flowing into position. A small pair of wings sprouted above her ears, the classic calling card of the Valkyrie order.

Her round shield stayed on her back, unneeded for this stage.

Iona had decided to focus on shortbows when everything was said and done. Her initial class had been good for all types of bows, but when the dust settled, the Valkyrie order had found itself poor in people, and rich in materials. It was easy to give Iona a full suit of Mallium armor – all the remaining physical Valkyries had a full suit of armor, made out of magic materials. Iona had opted for flexibility, others had gotten suits with different properties.

The remaining mages of the Valkyrie order were kitted out in gems and Arcanite, able to act like one-woman armies.

In the end, there were a few odds and ends. Iona was already walking the archery path, and with one of the spare pieces being a shortbow made out of Springwood, famous for being able to take the abuse of a high-statted physical classer without needing a corresponding "strengthen bow" skill, Iona had jumped on it.

It was useful with her mixed fighting style as well. The bow neatly tucked on Iona’s back, leaving her with a full range of motion when she got in close to fight.

Since specialization came with greater power than being a generalist, and after a disastrous attempt to try and mix longbows with axe fighting, Iona had decided that shortbows were the direction she was taking herself in.

Iona strung her bow, and [Gaze of the Galaxy] was helpful once more, magnifying and improving her vision. She decided to start off with some normal arrows, and wanted to make her first shot count.

She glanced at the ship. The pirates were yelling something, but they were too far away and Iona honestly didn’t care.

Iona carefully examined the pirates on the ship, using her divine blessing to read their skills. Not all of them, just the important-looking ones.

Iona spotted the captain, made obvious by his skills, and quickly looked over them. She grinned as she saw that he was more magically-inclined, and without a reflex skill like [Speedster’s Perception] that might’ve bailed him out.

She nocked an arrow, and pulled her Springwood bow taut, the magical wood allowing Iona to bring her full [Vow]-boosted stats to bear.

After all. This action was defending the denizens of the Wakacola sea. It was protecting the merchants, the sailors, and the ports. Most of the Valkyrie’s missions were protection details of various sorts – only items like Iona’s planned detour after this wouldn’t trigger her [Vow]’s increased stats.

[Chilled Mind] had a dozen uses, but one that Iona found nice was it magnified her perception dozens of times when she had an arrow fully drawn, making the whole world seem like it was moving in slow motion. [Shortbow Skills] stacked with [New Moon’s Dance], which was multiplied by both [Valkyrie’s Valor] and [Weapon Mastery].

It helped guide her hand, read the wind, and make the tiny, subtle adjustments needed. Iona only got one initial shot, one surprise attack.

She finished finding her aim, exhaled to relax, and let go, the arrow screaming across the distance in a moment.

Planting itself directly in the important-looking pirate’s eye.

[*ding!* You have slain a [Pirate Lieutenant (270 - Decay)]//[Loot Locator (260 – Mantle)]]

Iona let some of the tension leave her shoulders as the pirates started to madly scramble around, raising shields and preparing spells.

A second ranging shot over their physical shields indicated a lack of barrier, and Iona prepared her next trick.

[Ice Arrow Conjuration] summoned a crystal-clear arrow made out of ice, which Iona put on her bow. A benefit of the skill was it also let her fire said arrows, although anyone else trying to use the arrow would just have it shatter on them – ice wasn’t made for shooting with bows. Iona aimed high and fired, putting the arrow on a slow, lazy path that would bring it far over the top of the pirate ship.

She rapidly drew and fired a second arrow, letting [Trick Shot] guide her. It did exactly what it needed to do, intercepting the Ice arrow when it was above the pirate ship, redirecting it to aim straight down at the pirates.

Then it exploded into a dozen tiny shards, [Blizzard Shot] turning the arrow into an icy barrage. [Glacial Slow] then applied a chilling cold to all pirates hit, slowing them down. The pirates that had strong strength and vitality basically shrugged Iona’s attack off, while more magically and speed-focused pirates were slowed down.

Not that Iona needed the debuff to kill them all. She gave a mental sigh as the skill failed to level. Even massively outnumbered and surrounded, her level compared to the pirates was too high, and the task wasn’t difficult enough. She’d need to repeat the process a few more times, in the hopes of grinding out enough experience to get another level.

The pirates weren’t taking the attack lying down. Some of the stronger pirates were throwing out attacks on the very edge of their range. Small earthen bullets, throwing knives, javelins, arrows, wooden spikes, and dozens of other attacks came Iona’s way. No Forbidden Four classers here today, although it’s more likely that the pirates would turn on one themselves, rather than tolerate their presence.

She was careful to twist and turn her head in such a way that nothing got in her eyes, but for the most part she let her armor, reinforced by her [Celestial Armaments] skill, take the blows, returning fire with her own arrows. In one part because dodging everything wouldn’t work, in another for the sheer intimidating factor - "None of your attacks matter."

Iona’s ship stopped moving properly though, as the various pirates she’d gang-pressed into service had vanished, deciding to risk her wrath rather than be in the line of fire of the rest of the pirates. She eyed the wooden deck dubiously.

Generally, ships had captains, and the System recognized them as such. If anyone on this ship was the captain though, it was Iona, and she had exactly zero ship-related skills. No [Strong Lines], no [Unbreakable Sails], no [Reinforced Hull] skills for her. In short, the ship was made out of mundane wood, and acted like it.

Which, given Iona’s skill combination and stats, meant that she needed to be a little careful. She couldn’t just try to jump the gap to the ships closing in – she'd just punch right through the hull instead. The gap needed to be smaller, or the ship’s deck reinforced in some way.

However, Iona could keep screwing with the pirates. Even though they were hunkered down, there was always a little slit that she could plant an arrow in. If there were no easy targets of opportunity, Iona took the time to shoot the lines, causing rope to snap and whiplash across the deck, injuring pirates and making their ship lurch oddly.

Which usually created more targets of opportunity. Rinse and repeat.

Iona could do this all day.

Then the pirates came close enough, and Iona traded her shield on her back for the bow in her hands, then drawing her axe, giving it a few experimental swings. She half-hunkered down, and waited.

If the pirates were exceptionally smart, and wanted Iona dead at all costs, they’d sink the ship slowly, from a distance, then attempt to drown her with multiple water mages and underwater swimmers. Iona would be in one hell of a pickle if that happened, and would probably try to emergency grab [Swimming] or some other related skill to try and survive.

Still, pirates were greedy, and ships were expensive. Iona was counting on them coming close enough to try to board, and capture the ship intact, especially as all resistance seemed to have stopped.

She let a smirk cross her face.

After all, they’d pinned down the only fighter. They had more than enough people to kill one person, even though her level was quite a bit higher than theirs.

They had more than enough people... if [The Dusk Valkyrie] wasn’t a dark green quality class, a System reward for surviving the goblin horde. If Iona didn’t have a [Vow], strengthening her physical stats seven, almost eight times over.

Frustratingly, that made it harder to level. If a task was too easy, there wasn’t a lot of experience in it.

When she was a [Squire], Iona wasn’t a fan of Rolland’s - frankly, most every mortal country had it - restrictions on combat Classers. The rules that didn’t allow [Warriors], [Rangers], and [Mages] to go past level 256 without permission from the nobility. Usually that meant swearing service to the noble, and only a few rare, trusted organizations had limited slots for themselves.

Faced with a number of pirates trying to end her life? Being the beneficiary of the rule?

It was great.

Most people didn’t start off aiming for a life of violent crime. Many people disliked the idea of being restricted in their class, and picked [Laborer], [Artisan], or any number of "better" classes. Only when life got tough did they resort to piracy, and their classes weren’t well-aligned for brutal fights.

Sure, it was good enough to hold a sword and point it at some poor merchant, and it didn’t matter if a [Sailor] was hauling lines on a cruise ship or a pirate ship. But they weren’t designed with eight skills focused on fighting and killing.

The true [Pirates], once they got the class, once they made their break from civilization and started killing people, had to start at 256, plus whatever experience they’d banked. Their levels were rarely impressive, and sidegrading a class evolution was rarely as potent as going down the line.

All this to say - as a Valkyrie, the law of the land gave Iona a significant, multi-hundred level lead on the pirates, letting her act as a one-woman army. Only if the pirates were given too many years to grow, develop, and level would they be a true threat.

Another Order would ruthlessly crush them before they got that far though, correctly judging that the Valkyries couldn’t keep their territory secure, and, well, now it was theirs.

Chapter 15 - Julie d’Audrey III

The System allowed anyone with drive to achieve power. It also allowed those already in power to crush those who would challenge them. A balancing act, one that tilted towards those already in power. The [Biomancer] who helped Iona out when she was young was an excellent example of ways the powerful stayed in power.

Right when Iona judged them to be close enough, she unfurled from her kneeling position behind her shield, and shot off across the deck, the wooden planks beneath her creaking in protest. As she got near the edge, she took a mighty leap, soaring through the air with a tiny boost from [Snowflake Drift]. It wasn’t a particularly strong skill, but every little bit helped.

As Iona mostly-hurtled, partly-floated across the gap, her perception sped up, making everything seem slower. It was a strange quirk of the System, and how massive vitality and perception worked. Everyone talked and saw things at roughly the same rate, until they needed the increase in speed. From attacks, to being late, to running fast, to wanting to have a super-quick conversation with someone else with equally high vitality – or wanting to talk deliberately fast to screw with someone.

Either way, however vitality worked, the world now looked like it was moving slowly for Iona, giving her all the time to think and process as she drifted between the two ships.

A great white shark leapt out of the water on an intercept course for Iona, moving quickly – from the perspective of an outsider. For Iona?

She twisted in the air, and with the axe still in her hand, she punched the shark solidly on its nose, knocking it back down into the sea. It wasn’t dead, but it was stunned, and whatever pirate was companion to the shark wasn’t going to be too pleased – nor was the shark likely to do it again.

Still would be worth remembering. Extra motivation not to fall into the water.

However, the punch completely threw off her trajectory. She was still going to land on the ship, just not in the optimal landing spot.

Oh well. It didn’t matter.

Iona twisted again, activating [Moon’s Descent] to increase her weight, landing feet-first on some poor unfortunate pirate, his neck cracking as Iona’s speed and mass was far too much for him.

Then she was in the midst of them, and a wolf among sheep would’ve had a harder time.

No, she was like a tiger amongst lambs. The pirates moved slowly to Iona’s perception, each blade like it was dragging through water. Each shield was too slow to block her, as she simply performed her [New Moon’s Dance], weaving her axe around their swords, spears, and other weapons. Every slash found exposed flesh, every blow went straight through the pathetic excuses that the pirates called ‘armor’.

In contrast, Iona moved like lightning, her axe flashing out to rip out a vulnerable neck, her shield striking forward to crush a skull. The whole time, the pirates moved in slow motion, and Iona didn’t need to worry about parrying, blocking – any of it.

Just. Chop, dead, slice, kill. Bloody butcher’s work. Man, woman, human, dwarf, orc, beastkin, ogre, young, old. Iona didn’t discriminate, she tore through them all.

There was no contest once the Valkyrie closed the distance to the pirates.

She had significantly more respect for the pirate's attacks once she was close though. There were a number of magic spells and skills that had great power, but terrible range.

Iona bit off a curse as one pirate brought to bear some sort of darkness magic, and tried to slice her in half. Her helmet blocked enough of the attack, but it still slashed her nose open horizontally.

She dampened down a flare of concern as she made sure to kill the mage with extreme prejudice. This wasn’t the Wobby Pass, it wasn’t Goblindeath, as the songs were calling it. It was just a single cut. Iona was roughly half-done with this wave of pirates to boot.

She wasn’t going to die screaming like most of the Valkyries had, a thousand small cuts chipping away at her until she had nothing left.

Iona was a blender of death, Celestial and Ice whirling as she slaughtered the pirates. There was a tense moment as one mage, further back than the rest, managed to encase Iona in a watery sphere, lifting her off the ground and cutting off her air.

Iona immediately began to struggle against the attack, thrashing with her whole body in an attempt to break the skill, flickering [Moon’s Descent] on and off to bobble herself in the water, making it harder and harder for the mage to keep enough control to hold onto her.

Then a pirate, seeing his chance at local fame and a silly number of levels, tried to stab Iona with a spear. Letting go of her axe, Iona grabbed the spear, and used it and the pirate as leverage to finally break out of the watery sphere.

Iona liked axes the most, but all Valkyries had been cross-trained on a wide variety of weapons. That’s why her skill was the broader [Weapon Mastery], and not the narrower, stronger [Axe Mastery], or some Celestial variant.

So while it’d been a few months since she last held a spear, much less practiced with one, she still felt comfortable hurling it with all her might at the Water mage who’d bubbled her, the spear utterly annihilating his chest, the planks of the deck creaking under the sheer force Iona subjected them to. The mage wasn’t even pinned or dragged along, the sheer force just ripping a massive hole through him without resistance, painting the deck with blood and gore.

Iona caught her axe on the way down, punched her shield through another pirate, chopped a third in half, head-to-groin, and the fight was back on.

She distantly noted a number of pirates abandoning ship, jumping off the sides, but she gave them no mind. She had bigger problems to worry about right now, and if she smashed the majority of the pirates – and more importantly, their ships – the few loose pirates who escaped would barely be a threat.

In a maelstrom of blood and steel, the surface of the ship was cleared, and Iona went to clear the lower decks of the ship.

It went about the same as the deck, Iona bursting into a room, killing pirates waiting in ambush with a single strike, or holding back her blow as a pirate cowered, no longer a threat. The only twist was a kid, no more than 10, trying to stab her in a room.

Iona had a small amount of mercy for plucky kids, running to their doom. Even when said kid was trying to knife her to death. She defenestrated him after checking that he had a [Swimming] skill.

Iona did need a new crew for this ship.

It was only when she got to the lowest level of the ship did a painful, high-pitched whine start, causing Iona to bleed from her ears. She grimaced, and looked around.

No pirates here. Normally Iona would assume a "surrendering" pirate would be quietly using a skill on her – more than one had tried something similar – but no, there was nobody.

Nobody visible.

Mirage mages. Iona gave a sigh, and rearranged her helmet slightly to catch the blood coming out of her ears, going as deaf as a doorknob. She didn’t want the Mirage-Sound mage to see that he was succeeding at hurting her. Right now, Iona’s best bet was to make it look like the pirate was utterly failing, and get them close enough for her to handle.

Iona strode back up to the deck, grabbing pirates as she went along.

"Hey! Need you to sail this ship where I say!" Iona grabbed a pirate by the scruff, yelled her orders, and continued up. She would’ve ignored his protests, even if she’d heard them.

Damn Sound mage. Iona could feel his attack in her teeth.

Iona continued through the ship, gathering up her new crew, entirely, literally deaf to their cries and protests.

She left the kids alone.

One pirate found his courage to try and backstab Iona. His knife just slid off her armor, and she whirled around, snapping his neck with a casual backhand.

She waited a few heartbeats until she got the kill notification, then carried on.

She made it back to the stairs leading up to the deck, and turned back around and faced the crowd.

"Stay here until I call for you!" Iona yelled, then walked back onto the deck.

The ship looked like it’d been rotated a quarter-circle, and while Iona was bad at ships, she wasn’t that bad. The mage was obviously creating an illusion, hoping Iona would just walk right off the boat and into the sea below.

Iona had no idea how he was doing it, but the Sound mage was still attacking her, and his weak attacks were starting to stack up and cause her problems. Iona had no idea how he managed to hide in the crowd – probably disguised himself as just another pirate – but since nobody else was clutching their ears and bleeding, he or she probably had line of sight to her.

Iona went onto the deck, the floor slick with way more blood than most people would believe could fit in that many bodies.

Not Iona. She’d seen how much people bled. Had literally seen people drown in blood.

She casually put her axe away at her hip, and slung her shield over her back. This next move would be difficult.

She walked down the deck, doing her best to act natural, like nothing was wrong. It only took a few steps into "open air" for the pirate to drop the "twisted ship" image – it must’ve been expensive to maintain, and had clearly failed. Iona’s acting was fairly bad, and the Sound-Mirage mage was persistent. It’d boggle the imagination that a persistent attack was doing nothing, and both Iona and the unknown mage knew that she was on a timer.

Iona made it to the bow, then carefully walked along the jutting bowsprit, balancing on the thin wooden spur.

She made it to the end of the bowsprit, looking like a maidenhead. Then in a single fluid motion, she took the bow off her back, drew the string back as she summoned an arrow with [Ice Arrow Conjuration], and fired an [Blizzard Shot] down the deck of the ship, thousands of tiny ice shards turning the top into a brief blizzard.

Iona was already running down the bowsprit as she fired the arrow, and carefully watched the storm. The icicles weren’t moving right in one spot, vanishing into a random space in the air and not coming back out the other side. Iona reached there, grabbed with both hands, felt flesh under her hands, and tore the mage in half.

The infernal ringing in her ears stopped. It wouldn’t heal her, or fix the damage, but it was done.

Iona took a moment to compose herself.

Safe. Not going to die.

She needed to spend some time with one of those people who claimed they could heal the mind. Iona was a hair skeptical – after all, most healers were instant, or nearly instant, but mind-healers claimed they needed months or years to work – and needed to be paid the entire time, of course, and made no promises they’d work. Iona was also crazy busy. Still, it was on her to-do list.

Iona shook her head, mentally resetting herself. She inhaled, and yelled down at the pirates cowering below decks.

"Get up here, you scurvy lot!" Iona said, having no idea if they were actually scurvy or not. She knew it was a term healers used now and then, but didn’t quite know what it meant. Still, sailors mentioned it constantly, and Iona was trying to communicate with them in a language they knew.

"Right! I’m Dread Pirate Iona, and I’m in charge now! Sail back into the cave!" Iona yelled, literally deaf to the complaints all around her. She simply pointed at the cave, and kept yelling until the pirates reluctantly turned the ship around, fixed the damage Iona had done to the ropes, and got it sailing back the right way.

Iona could kinda see why these pirates in particular had been left to fester until now. The Valkyries, for all their training in a dozen different disciplines, never bothered to cover water travel. The Wakacola sea was the only significant body of water in the area they protected, and even then it was at the edge. There were just too many other useful skills to learn – and Skills.

Hence, the finer points of sailing a galleon were ignored. One or two Valkyries got lessons on sailboats and other small craft – Iona in particular had taught herself how to row a boat, for romantically related reasons – but nothing approaching this size.

However, the pirates put their back into it. The steely-eyed Valkyrie who’d carved through them like a knife through butter was there, completely ignoring every word they said, covered in fresh blood and small shreds of flesh, menacingly stroking the blade of her axe with an armored thumb. They didn’t want to find out her method of enforcing her orders.

A [Pirate Captain] would flog them, deprive them of rum, or have other, more cruel and inventive punishments.

The Valkyrie? She’d started off murdering most of the crew, and no pirate wanted to be the first to discover how she handled minor infractions. Not yet. Not when the decks were still soaked in blood, not when the bodies of a dozen pirates were still tripping hazards.

The commandeered ship sailed right back into the cave, Dread Pirate Iona at the bow.

Chapter 16 - Julie d’Audrey IV

Iona’s eyes adjusted as they got in, and she was in the middle of a brief look around when massive earthen spikes detached themselves from the ceiling, impaling the ship, dooming it to the depths.

Iona flung herself from the sinking ship, leaving the remaining pirates behind. The ones who hadn’t died from the attack would sink or swim on their own merits – mostly swim, the skill was easy enough to get, or to have merged into another skill. Their career had been enough to forfeit any protection Iona might’ve extended towards them.

Iona managed to make it to rocky ground inside the cave, rolling as she landed, making sure she’d taken cover behind some rocks. She looked up, then around the cavern.

While dimly lit, there were enough torches, and pure sunlight from outside, to see well enough. A couple of holes in the ceiling let some natural light in, with unnaturally large patches of grass and trees near where they landed – the work of some skilled person amplifying what nature was providing. A clever Earth mage had made a number of large stalactites hanging from the ceiling. It meant that with nearly no effort, the stalactite could be broken off, the large mass plunging down on any unsuspecting invaders – like Iona. Given the narrow cave entrance that ships would be forced to use, it was a solid defense.

The pirates had nearly an entire port built inside. Four docks, with one ship left. Iona hoped that the pirates were ambitious, and she wasn’t going to miss a fourth pirate ship out and about once she was done here.

There was no way she was going to be that lucky.

A variety of buildings were shoddily built of wood and stone. Even as Iona watched, they creaked and swayed in the breeze.

Animals filled pens, sheep and chicken, pigs and cows. They were the primary beneficiaries of the unnaturally large patches of grass. Naturally, the pirates were the beneficiaries of said animals. They were packed against each other, each animal with practically no room to move. Not a humane practice, but only worth frowning over, possibly tut-tutting over later with a date.

A building looked like a warehouse, another a tavern. The big one was probably where the mayor//pirate admiral administered from, and that one was probably a brothel.

Almost a full, working town.

Iona was briefly starting to reconsider the mission when she spotted the last pen, separated from the rest by a gap.

All the better not to hear them screaming.

People.

Humans, dwarves, beast-kin, all had collars and chains. Even a harpy was present, weights cruelly punched through her wings.

Iona felt revulsion filling her, almost forcing its way out, as the brothel and tavern took on new, ominous light.

As she studied the town, she noticed a detail that she’d missed on her first check, the distance and the light making the bodies swinging on the gallows hard to see.

Left to rot.

Fine.

Iona wasn’t quite sure how, but it looked like the pirates somehow thought she was still on the wreck. Perhaps a combination of the light and shadow as the ship passed into the cave, combined with the falling rocks and spray of breaking planks and splashing water had hidden her as she jumped off. Either way, nobody was approaching her hiding spot.

However – Iona had dramatically underestimated how many pirates there were. She believed she could take a ship full of pirates, especially as she could force the terrain to her benefit, and it was harder to surround her and kill her via a hundred cuts.

Hell, she could take them all if it was a hundred one vs ones. She’d trained under Alruna after all.

But she was slowing. She’d taken a few hits, point-blank instant spells cast right as people died, and had more than a few cuts, was bleeding from more than a few places. She kept reshaping and reforming her armor to close any holes, but it thinned her armor. Not to mention, Iona couldn’t hear anymore. Missing an entire sense was bad news, especially if she needed to handle so many pirates at the same time.

The Wobby Pass flashed through her mind again. The ratio was similar, and Iona was alone, without even a companion or another Valkyrie to watch her back.

She knew she had limited time. What Iona needed to do was even the odds, and unorganized pirates were a lot easier to handle than organized.

Fire. Fire was the answer. Sure, they probably had a water mage or eight around – it was a good element for mages living on the sea – but it’d cause a distraction. Iona briefly cursed taking Ice, and not Fire for her arrows, before putting the thought aside. There were torches everywhere, and some looked like they were dangerously close to the main building.

Ugh. That would probably end with Iona needing to save the innocents trapped in the buildings.

Perhaps the slaves would participate. It would dramatically change the odds, even if they just acted as a distraction.

Fire. Fire in a lot of places, but none too large. Nothing that would cause uninvolved people to burn alive.

Iona’s [Vow] would be pissed, and Iona would die shortly after.

There was an elegant solution. Iona drew her bow, and carefully sighted.

It wasn’t the longest shot Iona had ever tried to make, but the size of the target at the range made it one of the hardest shots. About the size of the smallest coin, although blessedly not the size of the tiny bit of Arcanite embedded in every coin that provided its value. And the torch needed to fall the right way.

Iona stilled her breathing, not even hearing her heartbeat in her ears. She sent a quick prayer to Selene and Lunaris, then a second one to Xaoc for good measure.

Selene and Lunaris wouldn’t mind. What Iona was asking for was a bit outside of their domain – and entirely in Xaoc’s.

She drew the bow to full, and carefully worked on her aim, carefully adjusting for the slight breeze, trying to get a feel for the capricious wind and how it’d grab and twist her arrow.

Iona loosed, and cursed as a gust knocked the arrow off-course. A chicken squawked, but the pirates hadn’t noticed her attack.

They had noticed that she wasn’t in the water, or the ruins of the ship, and had started to break up, searching the cavern.

A second arrow pulled, aimed, and fired.

Hitting the stone next to the torch.

Iona bit off a curse as some pirates were getting closer and closer to her hiding spot. They were moving in a careful, methodical manner, but Iona was rapidly running out of time.

She pulled one more time, and let the world fall away as she focused, ignoring even the incoming pirates who’d see her any second now.

Aim. Adjust. Observe. Adjust. Breathe. Adjust.

And… relax, the arrow springing forth from her bow like a horse at the races, like a dog promised a cookie. It eagerly crossed the distance, and Iona continued to focus, not moving, staring at the arrow, willing for it to land, to connect.

Which it did. The arrow clanged against the holder, cheap like all the pirates’ things. Quality holders had four brackets of metal, this had a single thin one made of wood – not even stone. Their Earth mage had better things to do than arrange lighting, or was a late comer.

Either way, the arrow went through the wood, cleanly breaking it. For a brief moment, the arrow itself held up the torch, a single narrow shaft of wood holding back disaster.

Then the arrow finished its flight, shattering against the wall, as the torch slowly tipped over.

Right onto the hairy pig’s back.

The torch fluttered, then caught, flames igniting, then rapidly spreading from pig to pig, trapped haunch to haunch next to each other.

Concerned noises turned into loud squeals of fear, as the fire spread. The shoddily built pen couldn’t contain the sheer panicked porcine mass, and the flaming pigs scattered throughout the settlement, letting everyone know in no uncertain terms that they were on fire.

Setting small fires in every direction.

The burning bacon was an excellent distraction, but Iona jerked as a club hit her head, sending her sprawling.

Without [Moon’s Descent] active, Iona was a regular weight – which, given her size, mass, and equipment was still a few hundred pounds. Light enough for another physical classer to move her with a solid blow.

The pirate’s cries went unnoticed, with all the yelling and screaming – not that Iona could hear a word of that.

Her time was limited though. Iona began the second round of bloody work, fighting her way towards the "town". Most of the pirates were running around, trying to deal with the searing swine and the fire. Those seeing the bloody, flame-lit rampaging Valkyrie descending upon them like the Goddess of War promptly decided that they’d rather go chase the burning pigs. The ones waaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy over there.

Their organization broken, panic rising, the pirates broke and fled. Iona quickly went through the buildings, making sure that nobody was about to burn to death, then quickly climbed one of the only remaining upright structures. She unslung her bow, preparing for the next stage.

The first shot was a weak [Blizzard Shot] fired straight up, then raining back down on the town. Iona felt somewhat green as a few shards of ice rained down on recently released prisoners, her [Glacial Slow] hitting them and [Vow] being unhappy about the collateral damage. Still, it was for the greater good – smothering the last of the fire so nobody was at risk of burning alive.

Some would say that it wasn’t quite sporting or honorable to shoot fleeing pirates in the back.The Valkyries - and Iona - only had those notions in a dueling arena. Alruna was all about being out in the field, and getting stuff done. She had no time or patience for showy fights that got nothing done – and as a result, neither did Iona.

Arrows in the back of the head it was.

Iona had dropped a dozen pirates, before needing to jerk her head out of the way. A flaming blue sickle passed where her head was, only for the flaming chain it was attached to suddenly stop, and jerk to the side, wrapping Iona up with burning flames.

Has to be Inferno. Fire wasn’t solid. Iona thought, and let herself get pulled off her fragile ledge, [Celestial Armaments] flickering madly as it tried – and failed – to stop the attack from burning her armor.

She landed to the ground with a thud, and saw her attacker. A demon, one hand holding onto the chain, and the other hand ending in a wicked hook – also made out of burning blue flames. She sneered at Iona, full of confidence and looking all-too-smug.

Iona could see the demon’s foul mouth moving, forming words. Probably. Iona was still stone-deaf from earlier.

It was rare to see a demon here. They were Immortals, after all, and the Treaty of Kyowa mostly banned their presence in mortal lands. Not that it stopped criminals, and this demon was young, and low-leveled. Not strong enough, not causing enough of a disturbance to get the Wardens called.

Iona wasn’t into banter, so she quickly scanned the demon’s stats. [Blue Flames], [Weapon Creation], and [Move like a Wildfire] were the important ones, and Iona noted that the stat distribution had the demon like a speedster more than anything else. She flipped up, yanking the demon closer as she overcame her stance and weight, then grabbed the chain, flexing to break the bonds.

The demon’s mouth briefly opened up in surprise as Iona yanked the chain, bringing the demon along for the ride. Small flames erupted around her feet, but while in the air there was nowhere to jump off of, nowhere to go.

And Iona was faster, thanks to [Vow].

Iona finished reeling the demon into her grasp, and she quickly and efficiently broke her neck, letting her drop to the floor as the kill notification dinged.

System notifications were extra-weird when Iona couldn’t hear anything else.

Chapter 17 - Julie d’Audrey V

Before Iona could even take a moment, a high-speed knife appeared directly in front of her, right into the small gap in her helmet exposing her face. Iona leaned back, narrowly catching the knife in her teeth.

She kept the movement back going as more knives appeared, but it was only the first one that gave her trouble. She spat it out, and looked around as she ducked and weaved, constantly moving in strange ways to not run eye-first into another knife.

She saw him then. A pirate, gaudily dressed, on the last ship in the port. She gave him a quick look with her blessing.

[Captain of the Black Shark] – Wood

[Blood-drenched Pirate Admiral of the Black Shark] – Spatial

The second class was significantly lower than the first one, and Iona was smelling a reset at some point in his history. This must be Lord Admiral Bloodpyre.

The two classes were giving her a moment’s pause. The narrower a class was, the more powerful it tended to be. The pirate had gone all-in on his ship. If he didn’t have his ship, he lost nearly all of his class skills, and would cripple his ability to level up.

Given that he was pushing 300, and had to have gotten them at 256 – he knew what he was doing.

Iona kept looking over the basics, not checking anything in-depth, and noted that the shark she’d punched was companion to the pirate. One line in particular caught her eye.

She couldn’t help but laugh.

Lord Admiral Bloodpyre

[Name: Alfie]

Not even Alfred!

Iona still couldn’t hear, but couldn’t help saying something.

"Alfie? Seriously, your name is Alfie?"

She couldn’t hear the pirate’s response, but from how he was going all red and swinging a saber around Iona could make some guesses.

One last triple-check confirmed that the man, like all of the other magic-users Iona had encountered so far, was a sorcerer, not a wizard. Oh, sure the System still [Analyze]d both as mages, but the wizards – the "real" mages – were quite picky at the distinction, and bristled whenever people used the catch-all term "mage" for them.

It was a great way to distract them. Just start mentioning it to them mid-fight, and they’d get distracted as they started to rant about the differences, and how they were sooo much better than sorcerers who only used System-granted skills, and not whatever nonsense the "real mages" used.

Iona had never heard what the "real mages" used, she’d usually gotten an arrow through said wizard’s head by that point.

Either way, Alfie didn’t have any of the System skills that wizards usually had.

Iona grabbed her bow, and fired a few arrows at the pirate. The ship itself seemed to come alive, wooden planks rearranging themselves in small ways to get in the way of the arrows.

Bah. Blasted narrow classes, blasted narrow skills. Made Alfie unreasonably powerful on his ship, and simple arrows wouldn’t do the trick.

Either way, she wasn’t going to stand back and let the pirate warp knives into her face. Iona carefully eyed the stone the port was built on, the wooden docks, and the pirate’s ship, tied up, quickly calculating material strengths and distances. Then she put her round shield up, covering her face entirely, and started to run.

She felt a number of weapons hit her shield, but she powered through them all, only staggering once as a "small" anchor hit her. Then she was far enough, fast enough, and she leapt, crossing the gap from the port to the deck of the ship in a single leap.

Then she was on the ship, gracefully moving from spot to spot as the ship itself seemed to rise up against her. The deck shifted and tried to open holes up for Iona to fall through, the planks twisted and tried to throw her balance off.

Iona had far, far too much dexterity to be concerned about that, as she rapidly ran over to where the pirate captain was. Alfie kept summoning weapons into his hands, then throwing them, only for them to promptly flicker out of existence –

And back into existence at a random angle at Iona, who twisted, dodged, and deflected the attacks.

She made it to the pirate, and with a savage grin, put her axe through his head.

Or would’ve, if he hadn’t bloody teleported away!

Iona cursed, then a mace hit her on the small of the back, with enough speed to make her stumble forward. She whirled around, seeing Alfie on the other side of the ship, the planks twisting and turning into more defenses.

Iona realized she’d screwed up. The pirate admiral had two classes relating to his ship, and was lord and master of his domain. Iona had boosts and powerful gear, but it wasn’t quite enough for this fight, not when she needed to brave a hail of steel and wood, only to turn around and need to do it again.

A new plan was needed. Iona fought her way to the front of the ship, then screamed in pain as a spear somehow managed to puncture her armor, her [Celestial Armaments] skill, her [Stellar Body] skill, and her vitality. She looked down at the spear, the tip blood, enchantments glowing along the length.

Iona gritted her teeth. This wasn’t the time to deal with the spear running through her flank – and her brief lessons from the healer teaching the squires first aid once upon a time had told her not to. She just thanked Lunaris and Selene that it hadn’t hit anything immediately vital, although it meant Iona was unfortunately due to find a healer next, instead of rushing to Julie.

Whining and wailing and gnashing her teeth would do Iona no good now. Deal with the threat here and now, stop herself bleeding out later.

Unlike the many squires and Valkyries, who never had a later to stop themselves bleeding out.

Iona shook her head, resetting herself, and continued her charge towards the pirate. She briefly debated trying to extract the spear from herself and throwing it at Alfie, but no. Even if it could break the planks, he’d just teleport out of range. She made it to him, faked an attack at Alfie, who just teleported away again. Iona twisted, and gracefully exited the ship, leaping back to dry land.

Alfie was back up in the crow’s nest, waving his saber around and probably taunting her. Iona didn’t care enough to try and read his lips, not that she had any skill in the matter.

[*ding!* You have learned the General Skill [Lip Reading]. Would you like to replace a skill with it?]

Iona dismissed the notification, instead studying Alfie and his skills in detail.

Disgustingly, he had almost all his mana… although one of his skills let him pull Arcanite from anywhere it was located on his ship. Which explained that, his skills weren’t offering such a massive discount as to negate all his costs.

A mage that could go forever? A complete nightmare.

Attacking Iona from a distance was significantly harder than attacking her while she was on the ship, just due to the nature of his skills. It was easier to dodge the attacks, and Iona gracefully danced around the flurry of blades as they were conjured around her.

She continued to read his skills, and a piece of the puzzle clicked. He could re-use weapons on his ship – but once he conjured them off his ship, like he was doing now, Alfie couldn’t re-use the weapon, not without leaving and gathering them back up.

Iona kept reading his skills, getting more and more frustrated. He seemed to be invincible while on his ship, and –

Wait.

That was it.

Iona checked, and felt a vicious smile overtake her face. The pirate captain had a skill for the ship’s hull. Unlike [Reinforced Hull], [Eternally Regrowing Bulwark] was an active skill, not a passive skill. The downside to a passive was it could be overwhelmed and broken, and since all of Alfie’s power relied on him being on his ship, he’d gotten a powerful variant that could heal whatever damage was done.

At the cost of mana.

Iona looked at her axe as she cartwheeled to avoid a flurry of arrows.

She was not a lumberjack, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

So began the dance between Iona and Alfie. She’d hit the hull as hard as she could, with her axe, and with her gauntlets, having mentally reshaped the Mallium to form a row of spikes on her knuckles. When she punched through a plank, she’d grab it on the way out and flung it into the water.

Alfie wasn’t taking this lying down, and continued his attacks. With more stable footing though, Iona was able to duck and weave – although she occasionally screwed up, the spear going through her stopping one twist or another.

Iona was bleeding though, painting the dock red even as she ripped and tore planks off the ship, keeping an eye on the captain’s mana. She anticipated a trick, and even if the captain’s mana was empty, she wasn’t going back on the ship. Not with the ease that he could hide and pull more mana.

No, Iona was staying here until the ship was sunk, and Alfie’s power was gone.

Distantly, she noted that the slaves seemed to be in the process of freeing themselves, aided by the slaves she’d freed in town. She just hoped it’d go smoothly over there – Iona didn’t have the ability to fight off pirates interfering with the slaves, not while keeping Alfie here busy.

Her [Vow] demanded that she protect, but it allowed for judgment calls. It didn’t demand the impossible. If she wasn’t fighting Alfie, he’d be able to attack the prisoners. Iona leaving to fight remaining pirates would end up with a similar outcome. As a result? She was allowed to choose how to interpret her [Vow] in the current situation.

Iona’s world was narrowing. The edges of her vision went dark, as she tunneled and focused solely on the task in front of her. Right before her vision became a single point, focused on the ship, she noticed that the shark was back, and circling.

So much for the plan of going underwater to break open the last few holes to sink the ship. Iona didn’t like the odds of her versus shark while underwater.

The shark didn’t like his odds versus Iona above water. Neither would move into the other’s domain.

Iona was getting frustrated though. It didn’t feel like she was making progress, even though she knew she was. She also didn’t know how she was going to finish sinking the ship – not until a pig ran past her, screaming and on fire.

Right.

Iona grabbed the pig with her left hand, ripped open a section of the hull with her right, and before [Eternally Regrowing Bulwark] could regrow that segment of the hull, shoved said scorching swine into the hull. Blood sprayed from her injury onto the hull, a bloody reminder of where she’d inserted the first pig.

Iona had no idea how well that would work, but even if Alfie instantly killed the pig, the fat and flesh would merrily burn. Iona hadn’t seen an anti-fire skill, and she doubted that a pig would count as a weapon that Alfie could teleport.

As she shoved the 4th pig into the ship, Alfie suddenly started to target the remaining surviving pigs. Iona didn’t see that though, she was wholly focused on her task. The dock was getting slick with Iona’s blood, as her constant movements and dodging of attacks worked the spear inside of her, enlarging the wound, letting her life blood spill into the water.

Poor shark was going nuts – so much tasty blood, bleeding right above him, and nothing to do.

Finally – finally - the smell of burning wood met Iona’s nostrils again, and she looked up, to see thick, black smoke rising from the ship. Alfie’s mana was dropping fast, and not going back up. It could be a trap, but at this point, the fire was raging through the decks of the ship.

Iona staggered back to the rocky ground, not wanting to risk the shark trying one last stunt. She was slowing down though, which was bad as more attacks were able to solidly land, small cuts opening up on her face.

Something gave way, and the ship started to go down fast. Alfie continued to scream impotently at Iona, who couldn’t care less.

Iona let out a curse as she saw Alfie jump from his ship into the water, and for him to emerge on the back of his shark, zooming to escape the cave and the sinking wreck of his ship. She was hurting, and hurting badly, and had hoped the ship sinking would’ve been enough.

Iona unslung her bow, letting [Strength from the Stars] continue to fuel her. Bless the skill for providing her with boundless energy, letting her fight and fight and fight.

The Dusk Valkyrie nocked an arrow, took an almost lazy aim, and let it loose, staggering as the normally unnoticed recoil caused the spear inside her to shake, falling to one knee as darkness threatened her vision.

[*ding!* You have slain a [Captain of the Black Shark - 311] (Wood)/ [Blood-drenched Pirate Admiral of the Black Shark - 270] (Spatial)]

With the notification, the confirmation of the kill, Iona couldn’t hold on anymore. She pitched forward as darkness took her.

Chapter 18 - Julie d’Audrey VI

Iona woke up on a cart, rattling around.

"Hey you! You’re finally awake!" An all-too-cheerful cat beastkin man said, with a voice like sharp, rusty nails in Iona’s ears. His voice instantly gave Iona a headache.

"You were amazing! Like the Valkyries in stories! I’ve started to write one about you!" He continued on, the words like the screaming of a tortured cat, digging into Iona’s head and upgrading her headache.

Iona would pay any amount of money to hear him shut up.

"I was kinda nervous, you were touch and go for a while there. Fortunately, my skill worked!" He said, and Iona’s eyes snapped open.

She could hear again! The entire fight being in utter silence had been a strange experience, and the man’s – healer’s? – voice wasn’t nearly so irritating, as memories came flooding back.

With a thought, Iona had her Mallium armor withdraw, back into a neat little bundle on her back. The volume remained the same, just the location differed.

Iona could tell by the weight that she’d lost a small chunk of it, and Mallium wasn’t cheap. Every gram was precious.

She sat up, and got her bearings.

She was in a cart, pulled along by a pair of cows – thanks to the pirate’s pen – and there was a whole convoy of people walking along the road. Iona recognized a few faces here and there, and started to put the picture together, along with the bard Rory’s help.

Being able to peek at names was awesome.

The slaves had broken free, and finished off a few pirate stragglers with a vengeance. Some had watched the end of Iona’s fight with the pirate captain, and rushed over to help. Rory was a bard, and had a weak healing skill, which he’d used on Iona. Clearly, it had worked well enough for Iona to wake up again. The former slaves had organized, looted the remainder of the town to the bone, and were now walking to the nearest town.

Iona wondered if anyone had dived to the wreck, and tried to get at the treasure. It wasn’t a deep dive, and from how much mana Alfie had pulled, it had to be loaded.

"Thank you." Iona said, after getting a few coughs out. She could’ve kissed him, if his voice wasn’t so annoying.

"No worries!" Rory said, plucking a few strings of his lute.

Iona eyed it warily. How on Pallos had he managed to get a fully functional lute so fast?

Was he secretly a pirate who was turning coat as fast as possible? Or did the pirates like their entertainment, and their entertainment needed an instrument?

Iona took a quick moment to compose a prayer to Selene and Lunaris, while Rory was nattering on about something. How one slave had organized them all, etc. etc.

Lunaris. Selene. I survived! Smashed the pirates into pieces. They shouldn’t be bothering people too much anymore. The shark escaped though, and it wouldn’t surprise me if in a few years it’s a problem again. Oh well.

I’m off to see Julie! Or get a new squire. We’ll see!

Cheers!

Iona

"A song!" Rory declared, and a number of former slaves shuffled in closer, to better hear him. "Dedicated to our savior, The Dusk Valkyrie! I’m sure you’d like to hear it! Right?" He asked.

Bad bards, and songs on the spot. Iona didn’t know which was worse.

"Hang on, hang on." Iona said, raising her hands. "Why not something more classic to warm us up? How about a song from The Bard?" She asked, plaintively, hopefully.

Anything to not hear about herself in bad song form. Iona almost wished Rory had left her deaf.

"A song from The Bard! Greatest of us all, songs passed down through untold millennia! Heroic in word, grand in stature! Yes! I will start with the song rumored to be The Bard’s favorite!" He said, starting to strum his lute at speed.

"Rage! Sing, Goddess, of Artemis’s rage!..."

Rory’s singing voice was as good as his speaking voice was bad. Iona leaned back, and let the music wash over her.

Iona kept a careful eye out as they continued to travel. The Valkyries didn’t really openly recruit, not in the way Iona thought they did. No, they waited for girls to do what Iona did – approach a Valkyrie and ask. A few minor hurdles, arranged by the individual Valkyrie, and boom! That was how they got new squires.

And while Iona was nice, polite, and paid extra attention to potential candidates – none of them seemed interested in becoming a Valkyrie. Oh, they hung onto her every word, hero-worship in their eyes, but asking to be one? They couldn’t imagine it, even with Iona’s gentle nudgings.

"I was talking with some of the travelers, one Thofur Krelur the 525th, and he had news. Wanna hear it?" Rory asked her, and Iona was surprised at just how awful his speaking voice was.

"Yeah sure!" Iona asked, wanting to know more.

"A healer in The Great Tang is past 256!" Rory practically exploded as he shared the news, licking his lips nervously. His ears were twitching in excitement though. "Oathbound to boot. Rumors have it that she can create Immortals!" He said, tail swishing at the thought.

Iona let out a fake-groan.

"Don’t tell me. It’s war?" She said.

Rory nodded.

"Yeah! Think of all the stories! The Great Tang has vowed to hunt her down, Rolland’s getting an army together, and Nime is crawling out of their hole and also declaring war!"

"Poor healer is going to get assassinated." Iona said, frowning at the thought. "Nobody can allow an Immortal who bestows Immortality to live."

This is why Iona hated Immortals. One – just one – showed up, and three countries were at war. Thousands would die in fighting, and tens of thousands more would be a casualty of the war. Rolland shared a border with The Great Tang and Nime, and would get dragged in as well, just for the chance to capture or kill the healer. If they couldn’t have her, nobody could.

For half of the nobles and sects on the border, the healer was just an excuse. A reason to fight each other, to try and capture a noble or elder for ransom, or extend the edges of their domain.

Of course, the thinking was short-sighted. If Rolland somehow got ahold of the healer, all of Rolland’s neighbors would declare war. It was a giant game of "pass the buck", and it would continue until someone slipped a knife between the healer’s ribs.

Well. Given that it was a healer, slipped many, many knives into her.

"Wonder if more Immortals will show up, and try to rescue her." Rory mused. "They do tend to stick together. Could be an elf. Oh! Or even one of the legendary vampires!" Rory said, dreaming of meeting one.

"Vampires almost never leave their country." Iona pointed out. "You’d need to travel to the Exterreri Empire to see one, and they’re halfway around the world. Plus, any Immortal ‘rescuing’ her is just going to want her to make their friends and family Immortal as well. It’s no different than a country grabbing her."

"The vampire Sentinels occasionally leave the border…." Rory whined, in his annoying, contradictory way.

Iona had enough of vampires and other immortals.

"So damn inconsiderate of the healer." Iona groused. "Setting off another round of Immortal wars."

"Is it really an Immortal war?" Rory asked. "There’s only one after all."

"Right. One Immortal. Three nations at war – and the number will probably go up. That counts for me." Iona griped. "Good chance we’re going to end up in it."

"You mean the Valkyries?" Rory said, practically salivating at the information.

"Yeah – wait no, don’t tell people that." Iona said, cursing her mouth.

A bard? Keeping quiet?

It would never happen.

Iona and the rest of the former slaves made it to a local town soon enough, where Iona was able to get a healer to properly look after her injuries. A touch, a few coins begrudgingly changing hands, a map of the area, and Iona was off, to the Abbey of the Guiding Waves.

She was a little sad that none of the girls had asked to become a Valkyrie. This particular mission had been one of the best chances Iona had in ages to acquire a squire.

Iona shrugged her shoulders philosophically. Ah well. Next time. At least, the lack of a new squire let Iona see Julie, instead of heading back to the Valkyrie’s base.

She whistled a merry tune as she walked alone over the roads. The nice thing about being [Analyze]ed as a level 350+ warrior – bandits didn’t bother you at all. Nobody wanted to tangle with Iona, which was a huge pain when she needed to track them down, but great for traveling.

[Tracking] was great for tracking bandits down, but it didn’t seem like they had a strong local presence… yet.

Either way, five days of easy travel at a pace that would outstrip most low and medium level couriers with explicit movement skills had Iona eyeing up the Abbey of the Guiding Waves.

Chapter 19 - Julie d’Audrey VII

The Abbey of the Guiding Waves was somewhat wealthy, given the obscene size and ornamentation of said building. It had gothic architecture on the front, which moved into flowing, wave-like walls and ceilings as the building moved towards the sea. The d’Audrey family was wealthy, and it wasn’t too much of a surprise to Iona that they’d sent their daughter to this place.

Probably required a significant donation. The cynical part of Iona said.

Now, Iona could just walk in, ask to speak to Julie, and would probably be allowed to briefly chat with her. That was Iona’s plan E. She wanted to have a long, erm, "conversation" with Julie instead, and there was no way the Abbess would allow that.

Disguising herself would be the easiest method, but of course Iona had taken a Vow, and part of it was never lying. Somehow, in Iona’s mind, that extended to deceiving people via disguises, which caused no end of irritation and challenges for her.

Which left breaking in.

Iona first secured her weapons. They wouldn’t be allowed in the Abbey, and for her plan to work, she couldn’t have them hanging around the entrance. She built a small cairn of stone, put her bow, arrows, axe and shield inside, then sealed it up with more rocks and dirt.

A touch obvious, but Iona was willing to gamble that nobody in the next 12 hours or so would discover and disturb the cache she just built.

Iona kept her armor, because it stayed under her tunic until she needed it. It was hard to see, unless you knew what you were looking for. The benefit of loose shirts.

Iona walked out of the woods, down the path, and up to the front door, where one of the sisters was on door-duty. She was dressed in a simple blue robe.

"Hello Sister." Iona said politely, giving her a small bow of her head.

"Greetings. Do you wish to visit the humble abode of the goddess of the Wakacola sea?"

There was nothing humble about the gaudy Abbey, but Iona wasn’t here to pick fights.

"I am. I was also recently saved from a brush with death, and I was wondering if there was an unaffiliated altar for me to give thanks to my patrons." Iona said.

Prayer could be done anywhere, but there was something special about praying at an altar. It was ok to pray to any deity from an "unaffiliated" altar, and it was considered more than a bit rude to pray to a different god at a particular god’s consecrated altar.

"Of course! We have a small altar for you to give thanks to your deities. Ness would appreciate a small donation for the upkeep of the Abbey." The Sister said to Iona.

Iona didn’t bat an eye, fishing out a few mid-sized coins from her satchel, with small flecks of rubies in the middle.

"Naturally, I’d want to help the good Sisters of the Abbey of the Guiding Waves." Iona turned up the charm. The amount should be more than enough to keep the Sisters happy, and off her back.

But not too much that Iona would suddenly be a VIP, to be buttered up in the hopes of getting more.

"Thank you! Do you mind if I check in your satchel? No weapons are permitted inside, nor are drugs and…"

She then recited a long, long list of contraband, which included a few oddities.

Who didn’t like apples and vinegar in their Abbey?

This particular goddess, apparently.

Iona happily opened her satchel, showing coins, her drawing supplies, field rations, and miscellaneous supplies, like a rope.

Iona followed the Sister, keeping her eyes peeled for Julie, and hoping that they didn’t bump into each other now. This was the riskiest part of the plan – if Julie saw her, the entire jig would be up. Iona was gambling that as a new initiate, Julie would be kept away from the paying guests until she learned how the abbey expected her to act.

Which would make finding her super hard.

Iona was led to the main room of worship, a grand chamber that had an altar and a large statue of Ness herself, missing a wall entirely. Instead of a wall, it opened up to the sea, and the breeze grabbed Iona’s long hair and playfully whipped it about, as the smell of salt filled her nose.

Iona took a moment to kneel before the altar to Ness. It’d be rude to come all this way without saying hi to the goddess, as minor as she was.

Hi Ness! It’s Iona.

We haven’t chatted much, but I’d just like to say hello! It’s nice to meet you.

Hey, so I’m not here for the purest of motives, but at the same time, I don’t mean you or yours any harm. In fact, I wish them the best. I just want to say goodbye to my friend. I don’t think I’ll be able to visit frequently, and one way or another, our friendship is coming to an end.

Please don’t take offense. I mean none.

Oh! There’s a nasty shark that’s now free and on the loose in your sea. You’ll probably get some prayers about him. Heck, he might pray to you himself, I dunno how sharks think. Anyways! Take this first one from me – keep people safe from the shark.

Cheers,

Iona.

Iona had no idea how long she’d spent kneeling at the altar, but she felt just a hair stiff as she got back up. A different Sister was there.

[Magnetic Charm] was a great skill. While it didn’t do something nearly as stupid as make people think something, or change their mind, it did help Iona read them. The way the Sister’s gaze lingered on the view of the sea let Iona know that… she really liked looking at the sea. Gave her a little nudge.

"It’s a wonderful view, isn’t it?" Iona said, giving a raw, genuine smile. It was pretty.

A soft smile appeared on the Sister’s face.

"Like none other in the world." She said.

Iona and the Sister made more small talk, while other nuns came in and out, and one or two other guests also came to pray. Both merchants, and Iona would bet they were asking for safe passage and favorable winds as they traded over the sea.

And with that, Iona was in her ‘this is a decent person’ books.

"I’m wondering where the unaffiliated altar is? I’d like to pray to my patrons." Iona asked.

"Follow me!" The Sister said. "Just don’t touch any of the artwork."

As they walked through the Abbey, the Sister gave Iona a brief tour.

"Over there are the kitchens, the dining halls there, that’s Mother Superior’s room, those are the novice dorms…"

On and on it went, with Iona mentally marking the novice dorms. That was her target. She was careful not to touch any of the artwork. It was one of the rules here.

Nevermind that "sneaking around in the dead of night" was probably against the rules.

"… and here’s the unaffiliated altar!" She said, finishing the tour.

It was a tiny room, out of the way, dusty, practically a closet, but that was fine with Iona.

"Let me know if you need anything!" The cheerful Sister told Iona.

"I’ll probably be here awhile. I’ll be able to find my way out on my own though?" Iona said, noticing how the Sister was somewhat fidgety, looking somewhat impatient. Good chance that –

"Yeah, ok!" She said, and turned and left.

Iona closed the door with a grin.

Unaffiliated altars were an afterthought in most temples and other religious buildings. The temple was to THE GREAT GODDESS, and, oh yeah, let’s not offend the rest of the pantheon and include a secondary, minor altar for all of them.

But the acolytes of a religious building tended to be focused on their particular god or goddess, and benevolently neglected the unaffiliated one. Hence the dust, and general unused-ness of the altar.

This one was particularly bad, and Iona spent a few moments tidying it up, before kneeling to pray.

Selene! Lunaris!

Found an altar! Going to work some mischief. Nothing too bad, but I don’t think Ness would approve. Let me know if she’s going to smite me or send some [Paladin] after me.

Iona smiled as she heard the goddesses laughing, knowing the prank she was going to pull. She had their approval… which wasn’t the same as having their protection.

Anyways, I wanted to talk more about the pirates. See, I first heard about them when….

Iona didn’t know how long she’d been kneeling in prayer, just talking with the two goddesses. She’d also checked her level-up notifications while praying, it was just part of how she did things. It felt right for her, and joy of joys, she got a level in [The Dusk Valkyrie], and three in [Traveling Archer]. When she got back up, it was dark.

Nighttime.

Perfect.

Iona creaked the door open a hair, and quickly looked around. Nobody was around, but that didn’t mean a nun wouldn’t turn the corner any minute now. It wouldn’t surprise Iona if there were some younger acolytes who had been sent to the Abbey, who snuck around at night – and some of the Sisters patrolled the hallways, looking for wayward charges.

The moons were up, and half full, throwing red light around everywhere. More than enough to see and sneak around by.

Iona looked up, and briefly considered climbing up to the ceiling, and moving around up there. She had the stats for it… but she wasn’t sure if the ceiling could hold her. It looked delicate, almost art-like.

And she had been told not to touch the art.

Fortunately, traps and alarms were unlikely. Who trapped their own home? Who risked waking everyone up when one of the younger nuns snuck around?

No, worse-case there was an alarm for one of the Sisters on-duty, but Iona imagined a perimeter alarm was much likelier than an internal one.

And Iona had made sure to brazenly walk in through the front door before nightfall.

Iona slunk around, silently padding through the hallways before reaching an intersection. She didn’t have [Sneaking] or [Quiet Footsteps] or anything – but she did have soft shoes and over 10,000 points in dexterity. Sadly, there was no way to justify this as [Vow]-worthy.

Iona reached an intersection before the novice’s dorms, only to freeze in panic as she heard footsteps.

She quickly determined that they were coming from the novice’s dorms, and fled back down the hallway, making sure she restrained herself to move slowly enough to not create a breeze, to not have her clothes rustle against each other and give herself away.

Iona didn’t have [Sneaking], but she and the other squires had totally done sneaking around the castle when they should’ve been in bed once upon a time. Iona was no stranger to this game – except nuns instead of Valkyries, and fleeing in embarrassment and not seeing Julie instead of a paddle and extra-hard training.

Iona allowed herself to shed a single tear for the friends that she’d lost, that she’d never see again, before refocusing.

She was losing another friend, but not to death, and this time, she’d say goodbye.

The Sister’s footsteps receded down another hallway, and Iona seized the chance to blitz into the dorm.

Now was the hard part. Dozens of closed doors, and only one was right. There were three options when Iona checked on a door.

- It was empty. Try again.

- It had Julie! Success!

- It had someone else. Time to run away!

Iona thanked her lucky stars that she’d decided to pick up [Tracking]. Not only did it usually help with hunting down whatever monster was causing trouble, but it’d help now.

In theory.

Iona focused on her skill, her nose, and Julie, sniffing the air. She’d had her face buried in her soft fur often enough, smelling like a lively forest in spring, with a hint of sunshine and berries.

Iona was no beastkin, nor was she of a race that was blessed with an improved sense of smell. Almost 30,000 vitality together with [Tracking] somewhat made up for it.

Near each room she’d quietly sniff, seeing if the scent matched Julies.

Weirdly, there was no smell from almost every room. Business wasn’t doing well.

Eventually, Iona hit a room that smelled right enough. Not perfect… but Iona chalked that up to time and the new place.

Iona strained her ears to see if anyone else was around. Not hearing the menacing footfalls of one of the nuns patrolling the hallways, she softly rapped on the door.

"Julie! Psst, Julie!" Iona hissed at the door.

Nothing.

Iona knocked again, a bit louder.

"Julie!"

Nada.

Iona knocked one last time, a rapid staccato drumming on the door. She froze as she heard movement in two rooms.

The handle clicked, the door opened, and there she was, in all her tired glory – Julie.

"Huh? Iona? Wha-?" Julie said, at cursed normal volume, as Iona barged in, putting a finger on her lips and closing the door behind her.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhh!" Iona whisper-hissed. "Otherwise they’ll find us!"

Having gone from "sleeping" to "someone’s barging in my room", Julie was remarkably composed, not shouting – just getting that mischievous grin that kitsunes were so famous for, amusement dancing in her eyes.

The two of them said nothing, the only thing louder than their pounding heartbeats was the sound of the other acolyte asking questions of the hallway – then the patrolling nun finding her, and softly yelling at her.

Iona and Julie’s face were both straining with restrained laughter, and at last, Iona couldn’t take it anymore. She grabbed the pillow, shoved it over her face, and let peals of laughter break loose. Julie had better restraint, as she quietly laughed in that high, yipping way.

After a few minutes, they were able to compose themselves.

"What are you doing here!?" Julie hissed at Iona.

"I wanted to say goodbye." Iona said.

"You could’ve just asked to see me!" She retorted.

"Yes, but then how could I have…" Iona trailed off a moment as she patted herself for Julie’s letter. She unfurled it, and started quoting from it.

"How could I have kissed your lips one last time? How could I rub your ears, run my hands through your fur, massaged your-"

Blushing, knowing the rest of the line, Julie snatched the letter back from Iona.

"I didn’t expect you to sneak in!" She said.

Iona winked roguishly at her.

"Nobody does! You didn’t expect it the first time either, did you?"

"I did too!"

Ok, fair point there.

"Well, look, I’m here now. Why don’t we chat? Talk about old times before you become one of the stuffy nuns."

Julie snorted.

"I swear, the Mother Superior must have a [Shove a Stick up your Arse] skill. All the nuns get stodgier and stodgier as time goes on."

Iona grinned at her.

"See what I mean?"

Julie punched her in the shoulder.

"And what do you mean, ‘old times’? We’ve only known each other for three years! We only spent like three weeks together, total!"

Iona’s face went from smiling to sad. She tried to fight back tears.

"Julie… that makes you one of my oldest friends." Iona barely managed to get out.

Julie’s face fell, as she hugged Iona.

Iona hugged her back, wrapping the smaller kitsune in her gigantic frame.

"I’m sorry." Julie said, after a moment or three passed. "I forgot."

Iona patted her on the back.

"It’s ok."

They broke the embrace, and Julie hopped onto her bed.

"Hey Iona?" She asked.

"Yeah?"

"Do you still have [Drawing]?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Draw me. Get a picture of me as I am now, bring it with you."

The light played with the shadows to make an interesting portrait, but Iona had no trouble breaking out her drawing supplies, and starting to sketch Julie. Swift lines crossed the paper, drawing almost as fast as an experienced painter with classes and skills. Such was the tyranny of insane stats.

As Iona drew, the two idly chatted, catching up on what had happened since they’d last met. Julie told the mundane tale of the life of a trader, the discovery and subsequent ultimatum. Iona hung onto every word, hearing stories of a world not her own.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" Iona asked. "It’d be easy enough to walk out with you."

Julie nodded.

"What would I do? Where would I go? I’m not strong like you Iona. I can’t forge my own path." She said.

Iona privately disagreed – anyone could forge their own path, especially with the System.

But maybe that was just it. Julie didn’t have the drive, the resolve, the fire needed to do that – and hence, wasn’t strong enough.

Iona shrugged.

"If you’re happy, I won’t stop you." She said.

Julie smiled, and settled back down further on the bed. Lounging on the bed, in a pose well-suited to being drawn.

Iona finished up, and showed Julie the portrait.

"Oooh! That’s me! It’s so good!" Julie cooed over the picture. "Do yourself!"

Iona rolled her eyes.

"With what mirror?" She asked.

Julie got a mischievous look on her face, and slipped the habit down over one shoulder, exposing a breast.

"Well… why don’t you draw me like one of your Rolland girls then?" She asked with a sultry tone, waggling her eyebrows.

Iona’s drawing was fast, and quickly discarded. She then made an attempt at filling Julie’s entire wishlist of "things I regret not doing."

Except that one thing that needed a stuffed unicorn. Iona didn’t count.

The bed did make a fine seesaw after some quick reconfigurations though.

They only stopped when the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, and both of them were covered in sweat and other fluids.

"You need to get out of here." Julie panted out, wrung out and exhausted. "The Sisters will be mad if they find you."

Iona agreed. She already heard footsteps in the hallways as people were getting up.

She gave Julie one last kiss.

"Hey. If you need anything – just write! I’ll try to swing by." Iona said with a wink.

Julie laughed and threw a pillow at Iona.

"Shoo! Get out of here! If they catch you here with me, it’s the birch stick for me."

Iona grinned.

The halls were filling up with nuns, and going out the normal way? Impossible not to get caught.

However…

"All the rooms are the same, right?" Iona asked

Julie nodded.

"Well. This is goodbye then." Iona said, giving her one last hug.

"Goodbye Iona." Julie said.

They broke apart, and Iona focused, seeing if her latest stunt would qualify as protecting Julie. She felt no boost come over her, and she mentally shrugged. It wasn’t needed, it’d just be nice.

Iona cracked the door a hair, and seeing nobody in the hallway for a moment, burst out of the room, entered the room next to Julie’s – to not implicate her – and launched herself feet-first out the window.

She ignored an alarmed shout as she landed on the grass outside the abbey, and was off in a sprint a moment later, off to her weapons cache, grinning all the way.

Crying all the way.

She made it back to her weapons, and as she slung them back on, considered what her next move was.

The pirate’s treasure was still at the bottom of the bay, and with the stupid amount of mana Alfie had used, was probably more than a bit valuable. The Valkyries could use it.

There was the healer in the south, a flashpoint for a full-fledged Immortal war. Diving into the fray could be useful, although Iona would need to whisk the healer away somewhere nobody could find her – probably into the Immortal lands, where such people were welcomed.

Then again, Immortals brought the trouble on themselves, and for millions of others in multiple other countries. So thoughtless.

It was a healer that needed help though. Iona was indecisive.

In the other direction was getting back to the Valkyrie castle, and reporting back to Sigrun, and seeing what the next emergency that needed a Valkyrie was. Possibly getting a squire, expanding the order, demonstrating they still had value, etc.

Bonus – Randall was in the town around the castle, and it’d been a while since she’d visited him.

Finally, there was finally spending some time on working on acquiring and bonding with a companion. Iona was one of the oldest Valkyries who’d never tried to get one. Iona believed that she was good, that she’d bond with one – she’d just never had the time.

Choices, choices. She chewed on them – and some jerky – as she walked back through the forest.

Onto the next adventure.

[Name: Iona]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 21]

[Mana: 72880/72880]

[Mana Regen: 81,992]

Stats

[Free Stats: 0]

[Strength: 18,440 +(177,577)]

[Dexterity: 18,440 +(177,577)]

[Vitality: 33,286 +(65,074)]

[Speed: 20,415 +(196,596)]

[Mana: 7,288]

[Mana Regeneration: 21,782]

[Magic Power: 5,437]

[Magic Control: 5,437]

[Class 1: [The Dusk Valkyrie - Celestial: Lv 391]]

[Celestial Affinity: 391]

[New Moon's Dance: 391]

[Weapon Mastery: 376]

[Strength from the Stars: 377]

[Celestial Armaments: 375]

[Moon's Descent: 384]

[Stellar Body: 391]

[Gaze of the Galaxy: 383]

[Class 2: [Traveling Archer - Ice: Lv 314]]

[Ice Affinity: 314]

[Shortbow Skills: 299]

[Blizzard Shot: 271]

[Chilled Mind: 281]

[Trick Shot: 305]

[Ice Arrow Conjuration: 305]

[Glacial Slow: 265]

[Snowflake Drift: 261]

[Class 3: Locked]]

General Skills

[Drawing: 180]

[Valkyries Valor: 388]

[Adaptable: 202]

[Tracking: 210]

[Vow of Iona to Lux: 321]

[Magnetic Charm: 169]

[Comprehensive Education: 280]

[Dinosaur Husbandry: 280]

Other

Blessing of Selene and Lunaris

Chapter 20 - Sigrun I

Iona looked up at the Immortal healer, and felt sick.

She’d tracked rumors of the healer to The Great Tang, aiming to put a stop to her before the war got too out of control.

The ability to grant Immortality was absurd. The exact flavors differed. The most common, by leaps and bounds, vampires. They jealously guarded their innate racial ability, demanded huge prices, concessions, and most of all - loyalty to the Exterri Empire. On rare occasion, a vampire would be coerced into granting Immortality. The rest of the vampires came down hard on such instances, knowing that if one of them was allowed to be blackmailed and threatened into giving up their power, they all were vulnerable. A single monolithic block, working in tandem.

After that, came the numerous mortals who’d somehow seized Immortality for themselves, and not only for themselves, but for anyone their skill allowed. A painting that wilted and faded instead of the subject. Golden apples, halting the march of time. Water, granting eternal youth. The cultivation methods of the Auspicious Mountain Sect. Dozens, hundreds of variants, each one as different and as unique as the wielder in question, as many differences as there were different skills in the System.

As many stars as there were in the sky.

That was before the "natural" methods of gaining Immortality came into play. Consuming the flesh of a mermaid was one. Requesting a boon from a deity, or finding one of their divine treasures was another. Finding the genie, and making a wish was a third, and countless more were scattered and hidden all over the world.

White Dove cursed them all. They didn’t care how Immortality was obtained, simply that it was. Cruel, capricious, bizarre. Sometimes her curses would be on-point, directly targeting and striking at the heart of the poor fool who dared defy her. Other times, they were stranger, weirder, seemingly having no connection with the new Immortal. Rarely, the curse was hardly a curse at all, more of a minor inconvenience. There was no rhythm nor reason to her curses, no pattern that [Scholars] could discern.

Each element could seize - and grant - Immortality.

Healers, ever fighting against Black Crow, had the option of seizing Immortality, and granting it to others, on average over a thousand levels before other classes and methods could. They were watched more closely than other Classers were, as healers could reasonably get to the levels needed to seize Immortality before their mortal lifespan wore out, unlike other Classers. Part of why nearly every mortal nation restricted healers from surpassing 256 - in public.

Any mortal that seized Immortality, and who could grant it to others, was on their own. Vulnerable to coercion, threats, blackmail, bribery, and more. There were no monolithic groups protecting them. The only friends and allies they had were those obtained in their short, fleeting, mortal lifespan before the moment they obtained it. They were exposed, and the world knew it.

For some reason, the ability to grant Immortality was never granted to Immortals. Perhaps it was simply the System recognizing the inherent Immortality of said Immortals, and denying "useless" skills to them.

The end result was the same. Powerhouses. People who ended up at levels far, far above everyone else, who could single-handedly turn the course of a war.

Who could - would - single-handedly start a war.

Old age eventually took mortals. There was only so much wealth and power a single mortal could get, before Black Crow came for them in their old age. Immortals had no such restrictions. Their wealth and power would - barring accident, sabotage, or plain incompetence - simply grow and grow, until their interests collided irreverably against someone else’s.

Diplomacy would be tried at first, and sometimes it’d succeed. But inevitably, there’d be another clash, and eventually one wouldn’t be resolvable with peaceful means.

Then there’d be a war.

It was the rare Immortal who managed to restrain themselves, who contented themselves to live a simple life. Many said they would keep things simple for themselves. They wouldn’t be like the other Immortals.

The lure of safety and preservation was usually their downfall. A few extra coins, in case of an unexpected expense. A spare barn, to hold food through lean times. Rebuilding the wooden home with stone, so it’d better survive the seasons and passage of time. Owning the land they were on outright - who wanted to pay rent for eternity?

Small things. Forward thinking things.

Then the Immortal woke up one day, practically a small lord in their own right. The fear of losing what they had tended to set in next, and, well…

The rest was history.

Naturally, the mortals who managed to seize Immortality always claimed they weren’t Immortal. Immortals living in mortal lands violated any number of treaties and agreements, the biggest one being the Treaty of Kyowa.

Ironically, due to survivorship bias, the rare Immortal that managed to restrain themselves were in the majority in mortal lands. They tended not to flaunt their existence, staying low-key. Out of the way.

But they were there. Old monsters, a king’s uncle thirty generations ago living in a little cabin, a favored knight who’d never want for anything, with levels no mortal could easily stand up against.

Even Sigrun, as ridiculously powerful as the Valkyrie leader was, would be crushed by such an existence, if she provoked them into coming out and taking the field.

They rarely did. An Immortal openly using their power ended with far, far too many eyes on them. As such, only when a country was on the brink of extinction, when total war was declared, did such figures emerge from their hidey-holes.

It was why the nations that existed had existed for hundreds of years, and would likely exist for hundreds, if not thousands, more.

It was part of why Nime was so aggressive with Forbidden Four Classers, in defiance of the Treaty of Kyowa. They were a new country, as these things went. The belief was they didn’t have any Immortals, and were resorting to more desperate means.

A kingdom would empty their coffers just to make one new Immortal guardian.

The ability to make dozens?

Nations were going to war over the chance, both to have their own, and deny the chance to their enemies.

Some were aiming to capture the healer, and force her to turn as many loyal retainers Immortal as possible. Rarely did the king, elder, prime minister - or whoever the leader of a nation was - get turned themselves. No, it was too obvious when such a thing happened. The power behind the thrones, the quiet movers and shakers, were usually the recipients of such a blessing. Them, and anyone proven loyal enough to the country.

Others were more pragmatic. Capturing the healer gave others a chance to capture her in turn. Simply killing her ended the entire ordeal.

Yet more saw it as an excuse to move their armies. Nothing quite granted riches like quick plunder in a justified war, like ransoming a noble back to their family. Nothing granted levels quite like battles and bloodshed. One perfect engagement could turn a mediocre army into a hardened core of elites.

Like the Valkyries. They were already elite units to begin with, but they’d been distilled, honed, tempered. Each surviving Valkyrie was a force of nature in and of herself.

Sadly, they didn’t have a fresh batch of recruits to fill in the holes left by the fallen, unlike a lord who seemingly always had a fresh batch of serfs to pull from, and plug the gaps.

Naturally, there was a fourth party. The Immortal healer herself, and the people who rallied to her. Those who didn’t quite fit in the current world order. Disgruntled lords, too low in the peerage to ever be granted Immortality, given the chance to throw their lot in with the healer and have the clock turned back for them. Adventurers, fresh off delving some deep and ancient ruin, flush with riches and wanting to be preserved in the moment for all eternity. Mercenaries, who could be granted the boon and sell it again, commanding a price that would allow them to retire in luxury for the rest of their life.

The end result was the same. An Immortal healer showed up, and let her skills be known. She was a foci, a pivot, pulling the world around her.

Nobody should have that much power.

Nobody should be able to cause that much death.

And yet.

Iona was late to the party. It was over.

Iona stared at the body, hoisted high by a spike impaling her. Her head had been cut off, replaced by a tiger’s - presumably her companion.

The healer’s head was on a second spike next to her body.

They’d horrifically tortured the poor woman, and Iona sent a long prayer to her patrons, asking that they help guide her soul to the afterlife. Even with Iona’s long experience, with all the carnage she’d seen and dealt, the sight of what had been done to the poor healer turned her stomach.

Even in death, she was afforded no dignity.

Various fluids covered her, and a passerby threw a rotten tomato at her, the fruit adding its noxious juices to the mix, then falling down onto the rest of the vegetables.

Abstractly, Iona had wanted the healer dead. One life, one person, who knew exactly what they were doing and what chaos they’d cause, weighed against the millions of lives unended and ruined as a result of her actions.

Seeing the end result though? Iona wasn’t a cold, heartless killing machine. She could empathize. She could imagine the torture and agony the poor woman had gone through.

They’d clearly drawn it out, and made it last.

With one last shake of her head, Iona turned and left.

Next on her list - Return to the pirate hideout. Loot every last scrap. Report back to the Valkyries, and see what the next hotspot was.

Iona shouldered her way through the crowds, people and races of all sorts having congregated in Xi’an. Most wore the robes of various sects, long flowing things that should be impractical in a fight, yet they somehow managed to pull it off.

To nobody’s surprise, the sect with the largest representation by far was the Tang sect, who ruled the country named after them.

Iona warily eyed a group of people loitering around, wearing yellow jacks with black stripes on them. The Hornet’s gang. Well-known across mortal lands for being [Hired Thugs]. If a merchant wanted to put a rival out of business? Hiring the Hornets to torch their warehouse and storefront, mug them in an alley, or just plain old extort "protection money."

Once hired though, they stayed vaguely loyal, in a criminal sort of way. This group was loitering in front of a major branch of the World Bank. The local [Beancounters] had done their own strange brand of math, and determined that hiring additional muscle on top of their guards with the level of unrest and risks was worth it.

Since they were somewhat legitimately employed, Iona let them be. There was a time and a place to fight with one of Pallos’s three major gangs, and this was not it.

Iona was near the exit of the city when the crowds started to part. Iona let herself go with the flow. This wasn’t her place or her territory, why make a fuss?

Her stomach clenched in a cold knot as she saw who the crowd was parting for.

A pair of Wardens were entering the city, their pointy elven ears and curled horns sticking out from behind their faceless silver masks. The Immortal enforcers had left their domain, presumably for the deceased healer.

Wardens were the reason Immortals didn’t rampage freely across mortals lands - well, not for long. Iona was forced to admit that the Immortals races did have their own set of rules - however esoteric - abided by them. Didn’t mean she liked them much.

Iona took a quick peek at their stats and levels, her divine blessing bypassing any resistances or protections they might have to mask themselves.

Level 2885.

Level 3381.

Either one of them could level the city with a thought. Iona would be helpless before them, [Vow]-boosted stats or not.

Interestingly, they were bonded to each other. A pair of companions, likely lovers, working as Wardens. It explained why there wasn’t a pair of creatures working with them

There was something about the weapon the higher-leveled one carried. Somehow, power, with a whiff of divinity, was emanating from it. Objects just didn’t do that. Not unless…

"The Woundspear." The moon goddess Selene whispered into Iona’s mind.

"If you could get it for us…" Lunaris, the other moon goddess breathed in anticipation and desire.

Iona would’ve given them an incredulous look if she could’ve. Sadly, they were in the divine realm, and Iona was forced to stick to witty remarks.

"Yes, let me commit elaborate suicide by Warden. I didn’t realize you were so eager to meet me again in person." Iona quipped, then got a hair more serious.

"I’m not going to wrest away a divinely granted weapon from elves with thousands of levels on me. Alone." Iona frankly replied.

"Ahh, but just imagine…" Selene said.

"Yes, I’m imagining. Me. Dead, in a shallow grave. Assuming more than a matchbox’s worth of me is left."

"We’ll make you an angel!" Lunaris seemed positively cheerful at the idea, which included Iona’s untimely demise.

"You’re going to make me an angel anyways! Right!?"

The two goddesses of the moon laughed at Iona’s outraged remarks and expression, and she felt their light touch leave her.

Crowds parted before them, and they passed, entirely inscrutable beneath their masks.

Iona forced herself to move once they’d left, noting a maple leaf over a house. They were going to be extra-busy.

She traveled back across The Great Tang, her heart breaking at every trampled field, at every burned farmhouse. She shared her food when she could with people who’d been displaced by the war, who were already starving even before winter hit.

The Great Tang wasn’t particularly far north, and the [Weather Witch]es were predicting a harsh winter. The unknown healer was dead, but her legacy was going to kill millions in a famine.

Iona mentally corrected herself. It wasn’t just the healer. She was the spark, the excuse, but every count, every sect leader, every great general and clan leader was also to blame. They’d mobilized armies and moved out, when they could’ve sat home, focusing on peace and securing their own borders.

Iona missed the hypocrisy entirely. She was a Valkyrie, and could’ve been spending the time fighting monsters and raiders, instead of making the trip down to The Great Tang.

Chapter 21 - Sigrun II

It took some hiking, and some prodding around the Wakacola sea, but Iona found the pirate’s hideout again. She dove down to the wreck, and spent a relatively relaxing day looting the pirate ship of all the Arcanite it used to hold, along with picking up as much silver, gold, and other precious metals, gems, and general valuables as she could find.

There was something magical about getting richer every minute, getting heavily rewarded with each motion.

With her sack filled to the brim with Arcanite, and two entire treasure chests stuffed with more of the stuff, along with a cache of gemstones she’d found, Iona felt positively piratical. Shame that she’d lost her tricorn hat.

She did enjoy a few nights with fellow travelers she met on the road, occasionally with a local resident in a place she stayed. It was the rare night that Iona wanted companionship and didn’t get it.

A [Highrise Burglar] tried to rob Iona one night.

She put him through the wall, then handed the dazed and confused would-be thief over to the local guards, along with detailing to them exactly what his classes and skills were, and what they did.

The guards were beyond delighted to get the information. He’d been a real nuisance, and now they knew exactly how he worked, and how to properly deal with him.

Without further ado, Iona arrived at Castle Valkyrie, her mood steadily getting more and more dour with each step she took towards her "home".

It was too… quiet. Too… empty.

Too cold. It was a lifeless husk, not the thriving training ground of squires.

"Ho Iona!" One of the staff members hailed her as she arrived at the drawbridge. One staff member, and not four squires.

"Jens!" Iona called back with false cheer. "Glad to see you again!"

The practice yard, built for a thousand, had a single Valkyrie and her squire sparring, the older woman trying to teach the girl without a proper practice partner. Gone were the days where Iona trained with nearly 200 of her fellow squires in the grounds.

Each echoing step through the castle, each hallway without another Valkyrie to greet hammered home their lack, their fall.

"Goblin’s Death" the bards called it.

"Valkyrie’s End" would be just as appropriate. Except, instead of a clean death, the Valkyries had a lethal gut wound, and were slowly limping along as they bled out, stomach acid eating through their flesh, agonizingly prolonging their end.

Iona made it to the [Quartermaster], and dropped the chests and the sack down.

"Special delivery!" Iona put some real cheer in her voice. [Knightly Accountant] Sophie had been there when Iona was growing up, and she was still alive, well, and grumpy. A thread to the past, a reminder that they were not dead.

Yet.

Iona gave one of the chests a calculated kick, and it burst open, the crystal Arcanite tumbling to the floor.

"Oooh, you shouldn’t have!" Sophie cooed over the overflowing piles of Arcanite, the diamonds, rubies and other gems glinting underneath. Iona grinned. The only time Sophie was happy was when she was getting lots and lots of money. The moment she needed to part with any of it?

Grumpiness.

Iona just grinned at Sophie as she started to sort the gems by size.

"Oh this is like yuletide come early! This isn’t a town’s payment, and you’re just messing with me, right? No, of course it isn’t. They pay in proper coins, not pure crystal."

Sophie froze.

"You didn’t rob a [Tax Collector] did you?"

"Ummm." Iona scratched her head, thinking about it.

"No. I don’t like the sound of that. No." Sophie started to pile the Arcanite back in the chests.

"Indirectly at worst?" Iona finally hedged. "Took it off a pirate."

"Hmmm." Sophie gave the chests a measuring look, before shrugging and opening them back up. "Well, more for me!"

"Us."

"Yes, yes, that’s what I said, now shoo. Close the door on your way out."

Iona left. Sophie hadn’t said it, but from her questions it was all too clear. Towns had stopped paying the Valkyries for their protection. Their sphere of influence, area of protection, and just sheer clout and numbers were on the downswing.

Unburdened, she made her way to the chapel, where she knelt in prayer.

Selene. Lunaris.

I need help. I don’t know what to do. There are fewer and fewer Valkyries. I’m doing everything I can, but it’s not enough. How do I fix this? How do I solve this? I need your guidance.

There was only silence at Iona’s prayer, but the silence was answer enough.

Instead of Iona trying to take all the problems on her shoulders and do it herself, she was going to visit Sigrun, the Valkyrie’s Grandmaster, who was in charge of fixing the Valkyrie’s problems.

Iona knocked sharply on Sigrun’s door.

"Enter." Sigrun’s clipped voice came from the door.

Iona entered and saluted, standing ram-rod straight. She held her salute for a few minutes, while Sigrun finished penning a letter.

There were four smaller desks in the room, for four [Secretaries] or [Assistants] or whatever was needed.

Only one desk was in use, and the man wasn’t exactly drowning in paper.

Finishing up, she quickly read over it, nodded to herself, rolled it up, and sealed it. The seal had some fancy enchantments on it, proving that this seal in particular had come from that die.

They weren’t impossible to forge. Just difficult.

"Iona. The Dusk Valkyrie." Sigrun slumped in her chair, some weight leaving her. She waved to her assistant, who got up and left for another room.

"Relax. How are you?" Sigrun asked, and Iona let go of the carefully-held salute.

"Fine. Took out the pirates on the Wakacola sea. Managed to loot the wreck, Sophie’s got it now. The Immortal healer’s dead. Cleared out a few bandit nests around Burnsley and Wolfden. Skinwalker near Monchester. Killed a giganotosaurus roaming near Northon."

"A giganotosaurus? Near Northon? That had to have an intelligence behind it, did you find who was responsible?" Sigrun asked, as the assistant came back with a thick folder. He quietly placed it on Sigrun’s desk, then headed back to his own work.

Iona shook her head.

"Vorlers were nearby."

Sigrun gave a curt nod of understanding. Vorlers were one of the biggest threats, worth dropping nearly everything for. Between the goblin invasion, and a mature nest of Vorlers, the Valkyries would’ve gone for the Vorlers.

A small nest? Three Valkyries were enough. One to exterminate the nest, and two to prevent accidents, and make sure the job was done thoroughly.

"Any Pekari?" Sigrun asked after the strange subterranean metal golems.

"One village got abducted, but the Order of the Red Lion got to them before I did."

Sigrun thumped a fist onto her desk, half-snarling as she spoke.

"Those rat-faced thieving bastards encroaching on our territory. Let me guess. They insist that we’re unable to properly look after the area, and it’s now under their protection."

Iona gave a curt nod.

"The villagers are understandably scared after getting abducted, and there’s nothing quite like a band of knights freeing them all to make them grateful."

Sigrun pounded on her desk twice, making her displeasure known.

"If the Pekari weren’t endemic to the rest of the world, I would’ve sworn that was a setup by the Red Lions. What else?"

Sigrun continued to debrief Iona, getting the full breadth of adventures and questing she’d been up to since the Dusk Valkyrie had last been at home base.

Sigrun flipped it open, and started scanning.

"That’s right, divinely blessed. Your track record is impressive. It’s like you’ve been a full Valkyrie for twenty years, not four." Having gotten what she needed, Sigrun snapped the folder shut.

"To serve and protect is my calling." Iona modestly accepted the compliment, not sure where Sigrun was going with this.

"When was the last time you took a break?" Sigrun leaned back in her chair, giving Iona a pointed look.

"Last night? I slept?" Iona wasn’t used to this line of questioning.

"No, I mean relaxed. Had time off. Did something for yourself. Talked with a mind-healer."

"Last night? It was, uh, relaxing?"

Iona wanted to cringe at Sigrun’s look, but she was more professional than that.

"Who’s your closest friend?"

"Julie." Iona snapped back without thinking.

"The same Julie for whom I’m holding a letter of complaint from the convent dedicated to Ness? The same Julie who’s now a nun, and not easy to talk with?" Sigrun gave Iona a piercing glare.

"Yes?"

Sigrun gave a disappointed sigh.

"Iona. You’re not the first to push yourself so hard, nor will you be the last. However, I’m not losing one of my Valkyries to overwork. You are taking a break. You are getting some friends, and if I have any say in it, a companion."

Iona saluted.

"Grandmaster. What would you have me do?"

Sigrun pulled out a fancy letter from Iona’s file. It was written on pristine, white paper, with a number of fancy flourishes and seals.

"We’re not doing well." Sigrun seemingly changed the conversation. "Under my leadership, the Valkyries have declined."

"It’s not your fault!" Iona protested. "The goblins-"

Sigrun held up her hand, and Iona closed her mouth.

"It’s not my fault. It is my responsibility. Such is the price of leadership. Speaking of leadership." Sigrun gave Iona one last measuring look.

"You’re going to be one of the officers." Sigrun told Iona. "You’ve worked hard enough, shown admirable dedication to the order, but most importantly, you’ve solved numerous issues with tact and diplomacy, rather than simply resorting to cracking the responsible party’s skull. You work well with people, and with a bit of training up, I believe you’ll make a fine officer."

Iona remained silent, one part feeling chastised, seven parts not knowing what to say. Sigrun was showing a shocking amount of trust and faith in Iona, and it took her by surprise.

"My plan for you is simple. You’re going to find a companion. You’ll then head off to the School of Sorcery and Spellcraft, to learn everything you can about leadership and administration, along with the whole host of other skills you’ll need to properly be an officer. Your companion will have a chance to grow up safely, and you can learn more about him or her. You’ll get a chance to make new friends, and establish proper networking. Meet the up and coming movers and shakers. Have people you know around the world."

Iona bowed her head.

"How can we afford it? Doesn’t the school practically charge a barony for admission?"

Sigrun got a smug look on her face.

"Yes. I’ve been talking with them though, and they’re interested in you. Very interested. You’ve been offered admission with no examination, and all expenses paid to attend."

Sigrun continued to look like a cat with cream, as Iona tried to parse how, or why, the School of Sorcery and Spellcraft would be interested in her.

Sigrun let her struggle for a bit, then showed some mercy. Mostly out of a desire to get the meeting over with, and get on with the rest of her work.

"It’s your blessing. Your ability to speak and know every language. The linguistics department wants you to work for them, helping them translate old texts, and correct any misunderstandings in words they have. They think having you for five years will be the same as less-blessed researchers working five hundred years."

Iona frowned.

"The linguistics department? With all due respect, I’m not sure how much I’d learn at the linguistics department, even at the School of Sorcery and Spellcraft. Wouldn’t Calador be better? You went there, right?"

"Just because the linguistics department wants you, doesn’t mean you can’t attend the rest of the School." Sigrun pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Plus, I doubt they’d let you take the Linguistic Track, or any other language Track. As for Calador, it knows war, administering armies, and not much else." Sigrun gestured broadly at the room, the three empty desks hammering home their situation once more. "Look where we are now. Look where that’s brought us. Also, I hate to say it, but the School of Sorcery and Spellcraft gives a better education than Calador. We never managed to beat them while I was there. Lastly, nearly every officer ends up at Calador. We’re trying something new with you."

Sigrun drummed her fingers for a moment.

"There’s also the matter of your third class, which I don’t doubt you’ll unlock. I personally think you should look into a Mallium [Warrior] class. You’ve got a full set of the metal, and the amount you’ve been using it should offer you a strong class in that direction. At the same time, the professors at the School can guide you better than I ever could. They have tricks to help unlock powerful classes, and attending will be a boon."

Sigrun’s eyes flickered to a timepiece, and the pace of her speech picked up.

"The School will be passing by Lyon in the fall. Be there. For the next nine months, you are on companion acquiring duty, and taking a break."

Iona bit her lip to keep her protest unvoiced. Sigrun gave her a knowing glare.

"Companions take time. You can’t just snap your fingers and acquire one. We have no stock, the goblins saw to that. You can ask the local branch of Florence’s Friends if they have anything, but the latest report I have from them isn’t promising." Sigrun paused to collect her thoughts.

"While I won’t gainsay you if fate intervenes, and you bond with a golden eagle or something, I’ll remind you that companions will end up being a significant part of your personal power. A friend to lean on. A mount. Transportation. An ear for your troubles. Someone who can stand by you, through thick and thin. I’m not knocking the majestic eagle, but when push comes to shove, would you rather a spinosaurus or an eagle at your back? I suggest you ponder the question while you winter here. You’ll most likely be heading to the Dairalt Republic in the spring. Dismissed."

Iona saluted, turned on her feet, and left.

Iona pondered her new… mission? Find a companion. Take a break.

She had mixed feelings about wintering at Castle Valkyrie. On one hand, she wouldn’t need to be riding through snow and freezing mud, always a plus. On the other, being cooped up in the nearly empty castle for a season?

Well, more Valkyries would find their way home as the winter storms rolled in. Iona reassured herself that there’d be more people around.

Iona made it back to her spartan room, her home in a sense. There she added her sketchbooks onto the piles of other sketchbooks she’d filled while traveling around.

She paused a moment, then reached out to grab the one she’d just added in. She idly opened it, and flipped through some of her drawings.

She smiled, memories washing over her as she looked through the pictures. Bird’s Eye in the crow’s nest. The ruin of The Black Shark.

She frowned as she flipped to the sketch she made of the healer, her head on a pike. It was worth drawing and remembering the bad with the good.

She flipped to Julie, and smiled a sad, bitter smile as tears welled up in her eyes.

There was a good chance that picture was the last she’d ever see of her.

Iona closed the book with a snap, and tossed it back onto the pile with the rest. She got up, stretched, and left her room, looking to see who else was around.

The silver lining in the whole mess that was Goblin’s Death - there’d been one Valkyrie casualty in the last four years. Each survivor was a powerhouse in and of themselves, and there were still the large numbers of Valkyries who hadn’t been nearby when the call came out. Not all was lost.

The vast majority of the squires, the future of the order, were gone.

Iona didn’t want to spend all her time stuck inside though. She spent one ridiculously memorable night with Randall, the idiot werewolf forgetting what phase the moons were in and turning what should’ve been a fun night into a near life-or-death scrap, Iona’s [Vow] not kicking in when it was pure self-defense, and the starting angle being terrible.

She didn’t see Randall again. Not after that magnitude of mistake.

Iona did respect the rule on no fraternization among Valkyries, and her winter was miserable as a result. She spent some of her time playing games and telling stories with the other Valkyries who’d made it back for the winter, along with training the three poor squires who had the undivided attention of half the order.

Many days would find Iona in the chapel, kneeling in prayer. Communing with her patron goddesses. They’d talk back, the three of them having the most wonderful conversations.

Iona prayed for peace and guidance. She prayed just to talk. She made reasonable requests and outrageous jokes.

She prayed for her dead friends to come back. The squires and Valkyries who’d died in Goblin’s Death. She prayed for Lux to come back. Impossible prayers, but she made them nonetheless, Lunaris and Selene never tiring of her.

Iona also brushed up on her combat fundamentals, and started a refresher course on mounted combat. Lances were the undisputed king of mounted combat, the only differences being varying schools of thought of which types were better. Many one-and-done lances, mundane lances, enchanted lances, skill-reinforced lances, there was a dizzying array of options.

Iona also took the time to practice and learn a number of esoteric weapons, weapons that hadn’t been covered when she was a squire learning from Alruna because, quite frankly, they were rare, hard to obtain, and not in common usage for a reason.

Mallium made obtaining the weapons trivial, and to Iona’s surprise, she discovered that she had a real affinity for glaives, the elegant weapons fitting well with her.

At the same time, rattling around in the empty hallways - especially without Alruna, who was off doing something - was driving Iona nuts, and the moment spring started to hint at showing up, she was off.

Chapter 22 - Sigrun III

Countries only vaguely had notions of "borders", and which countries started where, and where they ended. Much more important was who protected a town, and what the culture of a city was.

The Valkyries tended to protect towns, cities, and settlements that tended towards castles, keeps, knights, and serfs, all of whom vaguely identified themselves as being part of Rolland. More important was their identity towards the Valkyries, who in turn paid taxes to Rolland, and vaguely listened to their king and nobility.

It didn’t stop them from roaming all over, acting as [Knight Errants] for portions of the continent. However, their density increased the closer they got to Castle Valkyrie, and their obligations lay around the same area.

Crossing into The Great Tang was easy. There was no such thing as a border patrol. Rolland serfs simply made way for Tang nong, rice paddies replaced wheat fields, and cultivators roamed the land, turning their nose up at the nong and cultivating in their sects, instead of knights galloping across the countryside, turning their nose up at the serf and training in their castles.

It didn’t work exactly like that, but it looked that way to Iona.

The Great Tang wasn’t just a fancy name for the country, a proud boast. The Tang sect had many reasons as to why they were "Great", but the simple truth of the matter was the country was huge. It stretched nearly two thousand miles, but Iona was lucky that Rolland - and the Valkyrie’s headquarters - were sort of center-north of the Great Tang. The country touched eight other countries - all mortal - including Rolland, Nime, and Iona’s destination, Dairalt.

The Great Tang was also great in the diversity of species that lived there. Iona was no stranger to dinosaur-crested saurians or metal-wrapped dullahans, but humans were the predominant race in Rolland. The average village was filled with humans, and humans were the majority in most towns and cities.

The Great Tang welcomed all mortals, and was a veritable melting pot of species. Individual sects and clans tended towards a single race, but no one race was in abundance over the rest.

As Iona traveled across the width of the country, moving impossibly fast with her absurd stats, she got into a few spots of trouble. Her [Vow] wasn’t just for when it was convenient - she was mandated to protect the weak. To face injustice. To right wrongs.

Iona at full speed could probably make the trip in a week. It took her three months, and her exploits in the time would be the stuff that’d keep bards busy for a year.

Sigrun would pitch a small fit if she knew what Iona was getting up to. Her intention was for Iona to take a break, and not burnout, yet Iona was running around, busy as ever.

For Iona, it was simply another spring. Another season. Another sketchbook filled with people and places, to add to the others when she got back to Castle Valkyrie. A diary, of sorts.

The summer solstice that year fell on the night of two full moons. A sacred day, made doubly sacred by the event. Iona found the local church of the Tabernacle, and spent the day in prayer.

Selene. Lunaris.

Hey! Hope you’re having a good day. An excellent night. Can’t wait to look at the moons tonight! They’re going to look gorgeous, I know it.

An amused divine voice answered back.

Why Iona! Are you saying that the moons don’t look gorgeous at times?

A second voice chimed in.

Oh dear. How little faith she has!

The two voices laughed, poking fun at Iona. She blew a raspberry at them, getting some looks from some of the [Priests] and other worshippers in the building. Iona carried on, undisturbed.

Please protect my sister Valkyries.

I hope Su Na manages to get a good harvest this year.

I know you said it wasn’t possible, but could you bring Lux back?

Iona got warm feelings back from the goddesses. They’d heard her. It was no guarantee of intervention, but they’d heard her.

Enough about me! How are you doing? Anything interesting going on? For me, I ended up in a small spot of bother with the Iron Sword Sect. I forced one of their disciples to stop beating a traveler, and he turned on me in a rage, trying to kill me. I killed him instead. Then his master showed up, and wouldn’t stop, so I had to kill him. For whatever reason, the sect leader then came after me, and I tried to talk it out.

Yeah, I ended up killing him as well.

Then a bunch of elders popped up out of nowhere, and honestly, do all cultivators have a few screws loose?

In our experience, yes. They do. Selene said.

Well, most of them. The screwy ones die. The sane ones stick around. Lunaris chimed in.

Well, then…

Iona continued to spend the day in prayer, talking with the goddesses, and them talking back. Then as night fell - she had a particular affinity for that time of day, after her moniker - she made her way to the rooftop.

On this day, the moons rose at exactly the same time the sun set, perfectly balanced and symmetrical. At the moment the sun touched the horizon, at the exact instant that the moons peeked over the edge of the planet, a pair of thunderous, divine voices hammered Iona with such force that she was forced to her knees, hands clutching her ears to try and quiet the voices.

Selene and Lunaris were Speaking.

"Well, since the two of you asked so nicely."

Iona spent hours curled up in pain, her pleas to her patrons to explain what happened getting no response or answer.

She remained that way until one of the priests found her, and tended to her.

Iona took a short detour to visit the Five Flames. Nobody was quite sure of their origins. Scholars argued if the site was magical, divine, the result of an inscrutable enchantment from an ancient civilization, some Immortal pulling a prank, or just a huge scam by the sect running the place.

Iona didn’t think it was all that impressive. And that the name was something of a misnomer. There were only two eternally burning flames, a solid pillar of black Pyronox flames, and one of Fire. The Inferno, Ash, and Radiance ‘flames’ had been extinguished long ago.

Or so the guide who Iona had to pay too much money to claimed. So much for being "eternal". Some empty spots suggested some truth to the matter, but Iona left the place feeling vaguely disappointed. Not before sketching the scene in her book.

The terrain started to change, fewer and fewer farms turning into a more interesting mix as the temperature cooled. At first glance, it was all wild and untamed grasslands, but an experienced [Ecologist] - or anyone with passing knowledge of how the Republic of Dairalt worked - would know the truth. The grasslands were carefully cultivated by each gnoll tribe that lived in the area, giving an optimal grazing experience to the creatures they raised.

Iona met briefly with the Kokaar tribe, fascinated by their herds of ankylosauruses. Nearly every member of the tribe had one as a companion, and they had a new stock they were preparing to sell.

Or cull. Nearly everything they used came from the ankylosauruses. Their pots were hollowed-out tails, their needles carved from their bones. Their shields were overlapping scales, while their yurts were made from the soft belly leather. Eggs and meat were a staple, taken from the dinosaurs as the dinosaurs took from the carefully managed grasslands the tribe controlled.

The tribe instantly liked Iona, her mastery of the tribe’s own tongue - nevermind speaking Trader Talk or Sythria, the communal language of Dairalt - instantly cemented her as an honored guest.

When they found out she had come to Dairalt in search of a companion, they tried to convince Iona that an ankylosaurus would be ideal.

For a hefty price.

"Fantastic armor, like you Valkyrie!" Yotrr said. "Powerful spikes, looks harmless until WHAM! Tail to the face! A land creature, like yourself. And ah, what wonderful bodies they have!"

He gave Iona an appraising look.

"Like you!"

They were decent salesgnolls, but Iona wasn’t convinced. The dinosaurs were slow, and they weren’t exactly rare. It wasn’t about rarity for Iona - she’d take a common bear if it suited her well - but the lack of scarcity implied that Florence’s Friends would have a number.

"Ah, but look at them! Majestic animals, I’d hate to tear one from the herd. It just wouldn’t be right! I couldn’t hope to bear upon your hospitality while working from an egg up, it would be far too much." Iona figured out how to gracefully decline, while making the gnolls feel good about themselves.

A few sketches of the gnolls with their particular companions helped mollify them. They’d seen themselves with the Mirror element before, but a sketch was a rare thing. Easy enough for Iona to [Draw], and worth more goodwill.

She kept a few sketches for herself. Memories, a log of the places she’d been and the people she’d met.

She got directions to Maral from them, the only true city in Dairalt. Headquarters of Florence’s Friends.

Chapter 23 - Sigrun IV

Dairalt was not a wealthy country. The gnolls tended to be happy in their tribes, bonded with their companions, living their best life. The climate was cold, and the land not terribly wealthy. Would-be invaders were faced with harsh winters as well as powerful dinosaurs and beasts, backed by skills.

It wasn’t worth it.

Dairalt didn’t have much to offer the rest of the world, not until Florence’s Friends. A group of gnolls from different tribes came together, based on their great love for animals. At the same time, they were a practical sort who knew that not every animal was most at home in the plains. That some animals would be happier in the wider world.

They knew money and outside funding was needed.

Such was the birth of Florence’s Friends.

They were stationary, and they expanded as external money flowed to them. They required infrastructure, and the city of Maral was born. Being a place most of the tribes had contact with, a place for resolving inter-tribe disputes emerged, and later, something resembling a government was formed.

Iona smelled the place a full day before she got to the outskirts. Lumbering titanosauruses had thick blankets, larger than most houses, to protect them against the cold. A few [Massive Tenders] kept a wary eye on the eight of them, protecting them against the elements and poachers, and keeping people on the road safe.

Iona craned her neck as she passed, watching the majestic beasts. They were like the brontosaurus the Valkyries used to have, before it died at Goblin’s Death, but even larger. There were also a number of rock-like protrusions from its back, looking like natural armor. If there was a category after "massive", the sauropods would belong in it.

Creatures needed space and land commensurate with their size. The titanosauruses required massive fields dedicated just to them, and it was nearly half a day before Iona saw diplodocus, the smaller sauropods having their own land.

As Iona traveled along the road, the dinosaurs got smaller, more numerous, and closer together. Feed shacks popped up here and there, and the density of gnolls increased.

Dinosaurs turned to other, more fantastical beasts as Iona continued along the road. Lion-headed, scorpion-tailed manticores were next to the pegasus, and the kelpies had a large pond to keep them happy.

Before long, Iona was staring up at the headquarters of Florence’s Friends. All manner of happy shrieks and cries came from the animals inside. The building itself was made out of polished bone, the remains of many titans artfully and expertly worked together to create a glorious-multilayered structure.

The world’s largest pet store. Building 01.

The doors were wide open, and people were moving in and out. A city dweller buying cat food, a burly, way-too-hairy-to-be-fully human walking out with a hulking wolf nearly as large as he was. A full squad of dullahan warriors wrestled a stone egg onto a wagon, where it was swiftly chained down and thick canvas was thrown over it.

Iona eyed their armor-skin, noting areas of grey paint over where standards and seals were normally kept. Someone was going through a large amount of effort to remain anonymous for whatever was in that egg.

It wasn’t hurting anyone, and it wasn’t her business. Iona ignored them, and entered the store.

Signs were plastered all over, in all of the common languages and nearly every uncommon one.

"Bonding with a companion not guaranteed."

It was a sobering reminder that finding a creature to use as a companion was the easy part. The connection was the hard part.

Iona entered the store and looked around.

Cats played on towers designed for them, while dogs raced and played with small dinosaurs. Some rabbits were in a heavily-warded enclosure, and Iona saw why as one of them hopped, then blinked forward.

Scorpions were next to spiders. A gorgon, with her head covered, was examining a variety of snakes. All of them, from the common garden snake, to the deadly cobras and asps, all the way to the crested vipers and white snakes were interested in her, raised up and following her every motion.

Was that a devil negotiating in good earnest with some poor [Florence’s Friend’s Floor Manager]? The manager had the advantage of a home turf and a narrow, specialized class for handling situations like this, while the devil, well.

Had an eternity of negotiating and writing contracts. An eternity of reveling in the act of negotiation and contract-writing.

Iona stared, having never seen an Immortal casually roaming around in mortal lands before. The Wardens didn’t count - there’d been nothing casual about their actions and motives. The demon she fought hadn’t counted either. It was a pirate, and there was nothing casual about a life and death fight.

The devil was shopping.

Iona eventually tore her eyes away, and kept going. She needed to remind herself that Dairalt was on the edge of mortal lands, and bordered both Modu and Jurcor. Florence’s Friends catered to more than just mortals, and by the Treaty of Kyowa, they were allowed. She carried on.

Parrots were cawing next to sleeping owls, Oozlums flitted next to microraptors. Peacocks showed off their plumage, which offended a swan. The bird in question flashed back intricate colors, showing off her Mirage element.

Iona continued to wander around, each creature and display more overwhelming than the next. A dozen [Handlers] ran around, feeding the animals, keeping them happy, and breaking up arguments.

The second floor had endless rows of feed, from mundane hay, to live crickets and mice, all the way to rare slabs of meat, sold by the half-ton.

The third floor had eggs, neatly labeled and organized in rows. Half were under heater lamps, while more were in stasis fields, keeping them well-preserved.

Creatures that were harder to contain were here. Basilisks and Xuan’wu, tyrannosaurus rex and thunderbirds, the rarest and most difficult creatures to keep only had a few eggs.

There were a few gaps where powerful creatures had been purchased, and Florence’s Friends hadn’t been able to stock more quite yet.

The floor had significant security, with most shoppers unable to wander among the eggs. Iona spent some time looking at the unhatched monsters, while reading a sign that indicated what they had. Before long, a member of the store approached her.

"Hi! Can I help you!" A cheerful rabbitkin greeted Iona. It was clear to Iona that she was using one of the more subtle social skills - [Personable], a quick peek of her skills revealed.

It also revealed her name, but people got weirded out when Iona called out their name before they introduced themselves.

Iona didn’t mind that Celery was using a social skill. They greased the world, and made things go smoothly. She had her own [Magnetic Charm] skill.

With a flex of thought, Iona rearranged the Mallium that was omnipresent on her body, quickly creating the detailed wings by her ears that was the hallmark of the Valkyries.

"Iona. Pleased to meet you." She extended her hand, shaking the rabbitkin’s.

"Oooh! A Valkyrie! I’ve never seen one before! Can I touch?" She asked, reaching up to Iona’s ears. Iona bent over some, letting the rabbitkin touch.

"Wooooooooow. Oh! Where are my manners?! I’m Celery!" The rabbitkin was energetic, constantly moving even though the two were just talking. "Are you looking for a steed?"

"Yeah. Hopefully a companion?" Iona trailed off, not sure what terminology Florence’s Friends used, and if "steeds" were the same as "companions" for them.

"Oooh, right! Ok! You came to the right place! Florence’s Friends is here for you!" Celery said. "Now! Steeds aren’t quite the same as companions. You ride on steeds, and anything big enough can work as a steed. A companion’s different! You need to be BEST FRIENDS with your companion, and you need to have the same temperament!"

"Temperament?"

"Yeah! Like, you’re a great, big, fierce fighter, right? Strong Valkyrie, slaying goblins left and right? Pow! Pow!" Celery mimed swinging a greatsword around at the end.

Iona clenched her jaw briefly, then relaxed it. Celery hadn’t been there. Hadn’t known. Didn’t smell burning goblins in her sleep. To her, it was just a famous story.

"Sure." Iona agreed, keeping her words curt to keep her emotions under a lid.

"Well, something like a bunny isn’t going to work." Celery said. "They’re flighty prey animals. They’re not big fighters. Snakes might not work either. You probably want a carnivore! Or a large herbivore. Moose can be mean."

Celery was clearly making assumptions about Iona, but they weren’t exactly wrong.

"Something sneaky and clever like a fox might not work, but something big and strong like an anteosaurus could work! They just get right up in your face, and RAWR! Not even Lumornor can save you!"

Iona had successfully come to Florence’s Friends with a mostly open mind. She’d gotten exposed to dozens of different animals over the years, but was willing to listen to the experts. She mentally shuffled her list around.

"Is there anything you don’t have here?" Iona asked. Celery sighed, a saleswoman having heard the same question a dozen times, and pointed to the board.

"Out on those." She said, then frowned.

"Hang on, we just sold our last cockatrice. Lemme fix that real fast."

She made some lightning quick adjustments.

"Ok! Sorry about that! We have everything else!"

Iona scanned the board, noting a particularly powerful monster was missing from the "not in stock" list. One that, on first glance, would fit with her temperamentally, would work as a steed, and, important to Iona, was unlikely to die in a fight, or anytime soon.

Iona also had experience with them.

The only issue might be the price. The Valkyries had sent Iona with a ransom’s worth of coin, anticipating sky-high prices for a proper companion. Iona had carefully guarded the coin, but even then, some of the prices she’d seen already were out of reach.

That was before upkeep and maintenance came into play. Feeding a creature was expensive, and the larger they got, the higher the price. Iona had spent too many years mucking out stables and throwing dinosaurs their dinner. She knew how much money it cost.

"What’s the temperament of a hydra like?" She asked. The Valkyries had one, and she had some idea of what hydras were like, but at the same time, that might’ve just been that one hydra. Outliers were everywhere.

"It depends on the hydra! They’re cunning, vicious creatures, powerful lords of their domain! I hope I can meet one someday! They’re soooo cool. It probably wouldn’t want to be my friend."

Celery’s ears drooped, then perked back up.

"Oh! But we don’t carry hydras! They’re too smart. It’d be wrong. Could you imagine if we sold humans here? We’re not Urwa." Celery gave Iona the evil eye, which on the rabbitkin just looked adorable. Iona wanted to pinch her cheeks - or do more - but kept on track.

"I’m a great, big, fierce warrior, like you said. I’m straightforward, and I’m a physical fighter and archer. What would you suggest for me?"

Celery grabbed a carrot from a belt pouch, and started chewing.

"Hmmmm." She thoughtfully munched around the vegetable. "Your primary element is Celestial, and that’s just sooo rare. Usually only variants get Celestial. What’s your other element?"

Iona hesitated a moment, then figured it couldn’t hurt that much. Not when dealing with something this important, and Celery seemed to genuinely want to help her.

A paranoid part of Iona mentioned that nobody gave out information to untrustworthy people, but at the same time, Iona had used Ice arrows often enough that anyone paying attention would know her secondary element.

"Ice." Iona said.

"Oh! That’s great! We’re next to the pole, and we’ve got a ton of Ice creatures! For you, the great big brawny fighter? A polar bear would be perfect!"

Celery’s ears drooped again.

"But they have their cubs in the winter, and the only cub we have left is a runt. That, and it’s been a few months. It’s easiest to start working with a creature from the time they’re born if you want a companion."

Her ears perked up again.

"But don’t take the baby away from mom! They need their mom! It’s cruel otherwise."

Iona was finally forced to sidetrack a bit.

"You care a lot about the animals. Yet you’re ok selling them?"

"Yup!" Celery cheerfully agreed. "Not every animal wants to be here." She leaned closer, and whispered conspiratorially to Iona. "Some of the cages are a bit too small."

Iona quirked an eyebrow at that. She’d seen some of the cages, and they’d looked plenty roomy to her. Heck, the dogs had more square feet than the squire’s rooms!

"Either way, lots of these animals want to go out! See the world! They want to have a best friend as well! I help them do that, then everyone is happy! Plus, I get to spend my days surrounded by the most awesome creatures! It’s a great job!"

"Well, let’s see the polar bear then!" Iona let Celery’s infectious happiness get to her.

The store was like an endless labyrinth. Celery guided Iona around, revealing endless rooms and hallways that Iona had somehow entirely missed the first time around - then exited the building, only to enter a different building.

The second building was hot. The air was practically thick enough to drink, and murky, fenced-off ponds and soaring tropical trees was the order of the day. Nevermind that Dairalt was about as far south as possible, and chilly even in the summer. Florence’s Friends spared no expense on nice habitats for their animals.

They left that building, and kept going, navigating through numerous buildings and environments, creatures that didn’t easily graze in the grasslands.

Finally, they got to the polar bears. Iona took one look at the runt, and had serious doubts.

"He’s… kinda runty." Iona observed. She’d never seen a polar bear before, but even to her untrained eye, the bear was less than impressive.

Her blessing to look at System-granted stats and skills was equally disappointing.

"I know, poor thing." Celery looked from Iona to the runt, and back.

"Actually… I’m not sure if your temperaments would work well. Or if he’d be a good steed." She frankly admitted.

"Well, what else do you have? Any Ice or Celestial casters?"

Celery laughed.

"A Celestial caster! Oh, I wish! No, but we’ve got some Ice casters. Want to see?"

"Sure! Lead the way!"

The first candidate was a scorpion, encased entirely in Ice armor, cold enough that Iona felt a chill. Iona and Celery both agreed it was unlikely to be a good fit, although Iona was more than impressed when she peeked at what skills it had, and just how many stats it was running. The second was a crafty fox, happily munching on rabbits, snowflakes dancing around its pure white fur. It was close, and Iona and Celery agreed that it was a strong candidate, even if the temperament might not be exactly there. A quick, nimble carnivore that had no issues attacking? Quite a few marks in the "yes" column.

Almost all of the fox’s skills were strong, or had the potential to become powerful.

[Heart Hearts] was a weird skill though. Something about finding the tastiest hearts to eat, and making them all the more delicious?

However, it didn’t punch up, and it liked using tricks and cleverness to get what it wanted - namely, more rabbits. Iona mentally quibbled a bit - she thought the fox knew exactly what it wanted from life and worked hard to get it, just like she did.

It went into the "maybe" column.

Iona spent some time imagining working with the fox. It could easily wrap around her neck, or balance on her broad shoulders. It could hunt with her, play with her, and Iona could easily imagine lazy hours spent drawing, while the fox gnawed on a favorite… heart?

Foxy got upgraded to the "probably" column.

A fat caterpillar that lazed around and ate was instantly rejected by both Iona and Celery, and the poor rabbitkin berated herself for even suggesting it.

"Oh! We’ve got a mammoth!" Celery eagerly bounded through the store, Iona following until they left the building. A dozen fields navigated later, and Iona was looking at a small herd of mammoths.

"That one! There!" Celery pointed to one of the baby mammoths. To Iona’s untrained eye, he looked just like the rest of them. However, looking through their statuses showed the truth - the mammoth in question was a full-blown [Mage].

"They’re not super aggressive, but once they get in a fight, watch out! Boom! Pam! Wham! Those tusks are nasty, and they’ve got a powerful charge! Their snouts are clever and nimble! And look at how heavy they are! They can smush anything, and their fur is like armor!"

Celery was a canny [Salesrabbit]. She knew how to make a deal, without coming off greasy or pressuring, which improved her chances of success.

Iona looked at the mammoth, and tried to imagine riding one.

It was easy. She could sit behind the head, and use a lance or bow easily, from a dominant position high above everyone else. On the ground, she could cover the mammoth’s weaknesses, and the mammoth could cover hers. Her biggest concern would be overheating the poor animal. Armor was hot and heavy, and that was before the animal’s massive fur coat was taken into account.

Yet, a caster - an Ice caster - should be able to keep themselves cool.

"How much?" Iona asked, and Celery named a price. Iona felt her heart plunge into her boots.

She didn’t have that much.

She didn’t have nearly that much.

"Too much?" Celery asked.

"A bit. Are all mammoths that much?"

Celery shook her head.

"No, casters tend to cost ten to fifty times as much. This one’s twenty times, given how strong its class appears to be."

Iona winced at the price.

She hadn’t known.

"If I wanted a caster companion, what would you suggest?" Iona had an idea in her mind, and she wanted to chase it down to its logical conclusion. She wasn’t going to let a little bit of adversity get in her way.

If it failed though? She had no problems changing track, and getting a more physically-inclined creature to work with. Her blessing was a little unfair in that respect. She could see exactly how powerful a creature was, and what skills they had, and pick the best of the lot.

Celery chewed thoughtfully on another carrot.

"Well… What’s your budget?"

Iona gave the top end of what she had.

"Mmmm. The fox isn’t in that range. She’s more expensive than the mammoth."

"Why’s that?"

"Adorable Ice fox? Some noble is going to pay waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much money to get her for his daughter. We’ll probably need to send someone to make sure it all goes well."

Celery frowned and kicked a rock.

"Nobles keep us in business, but have the woooooooooooorst track records. At least with you, I know you’ll keep the animal doing what it loves, even if it’s risking its life."

Celery thought for a moment more.

"Well, there’s always the wilderness."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, if you want an Ice caster, Modu’s right next to us, frozen pole and all! The conditions are terribly harsh! Unfit for beastkin or human! The animals love it though. It’s where we send our hunting teams for Ice and snow creatures."

Celery nodded absent-mindedly.

"Yup, yup. They’re so happy down there where it’s cold. Oh! You could also poke around the tribes, and see if any of their creatures are casters. They usually bring them here though. Too hard to sell out there."

Iona thought about it.

It sounded like her options were a non-caster creature of some sort, or visit the frozen wastes and give hunting a caster down a shot.

Florence’s Friends weren’t going anywhere. If seeking out an animal in the wilderness didn’t work out, she could just head back and pick up an animal. It’d take some time, but Iona had time - and orders to take it easy.

A few weeks in the wilderness sounded like a "break" - one that Sigrun would approve of - while keeping Iona busy and on the move. Staying still wasn’t in her nature.

Plus, they were currently out of polar bears, and the idea of one appealed to Iona. They seemed to be an exact match for her, and were large enough to be a steed, while powerful warriors in their own right.

"If I wanted to try my luck in the wilderness, how would I go about it?" Iona asked. "Also, are there special rules for entering Modu?"

The ice giants ruled Modu, but Iona knew the rules for entering the country were lax, in spite of it being on the mortal-Immortal border. The Tabernacle’s primary place of worship was located inside Modu, and Iona knew pilgrims had no issues visiting the place.

Visiting the Tabernacle’s primary temple was on Iona’s lifetime bucket list. She’d love to be able to pray to Selene and Lunaris from there.

"If you’re going to the arctic? Don’t wreck their stuff." Celery shrugged. "That’s what the hunters have said. For making a friend? It’s like making a friend anywhere! Play with them! Hang out with them! Talk with them! If they like you, they’ll hang out, and if they don’t, they’ll maul you to death! Careful though, their roughhousing and ‘shred to pieces’ look really similar!"

Iona chatted with Celery for a while. Celery didn’t seem to care at all that Iona wasn’t buying anything today from Florence’s Friends, simply happy to guide Iona towards TRUE FRIENDSHIP!!!!

With four exclamation points.

"Oh! One last thing!" Celery said as they were wrapping up. "Once you get your new BEST FRIEND FOREVER come back and see us! We can help you get the basics down!"

Unsaid - for a modest fee. Iona didn’t mind though, it’d be worth it dozens of times over.

"Of course I will!"

Their business mostly concluded, Iona moved on, and gave Celery her best [Charming] smile.

"Would you be interested in spending the night together?"

Celery’s ears perked up briefly, then went flat.

"Oh. OH! Um. No thank you."

Iona shrugged.

"Alright, no worries! Thank you again!"

Iona found an inn, and spent the night drawing all manner of fantastical creatures she’d seen that day. It took up dozens of pages in her notebook, nearly filling it entirely.

At the end, she drew Celery, then went to sleep, preparing to visit Immortal lands for the first time in her life.

The arctic wastes of Modu.

Chapter 24 - Sigrun V

It took Iona ten days, moving at high speed, to get from Maral down to the frozen arctic wastes of Modu.

Iona passed numerous tribes as she traveled, sharing a quick meal with some, spending the night with others, and being mistrustfully thrown out of more. The gnolls in those tribes were convinced that Iona was there to steal from them, either their food or their companions.

Iona had basic wilderness survival knowledge, but took every chance to learn from the local gnolls how to best survive the harsh, cold conditions.

In spite of it being the height of summer, snow covered the ground as Iona moved into the tundra, then finally into the permafrost. She got in the habit of wearing her full armor at all times, which had the interesting effect of slowing her down.

Armor was hot and heavy, and between all the layers Iona had and the Mallium covering her, exerting herself too hard risked overheating if she kept going at high intensity for too long.

Iona paused when her feet hit ice for the first time, with the ground disappearing into endless white in front of her.

The frost giants claimed all that which was covered by ice. Iona still wasn’t a fan of Immortals, although she supposed the Treaty of Kyowa disallowed most Immortals in mortal lands - not the reverse. Mortals were tolerated in Immortal lands, as long as they didn’t screw up some Immortal's thousand-year plan.

Or accidentally chop down some tree that was being groomed for its descendent to have the exact right shade of wood for a sculptor, or some other crazy Immortal scheme.

A number of Immortals even liked having a mortal workforce around, although none would ever reach a position of power. Immortals were also known to visit the Maple Orphanages now and then, and recruit a hundred kids for some task or another.

Training up a smith to have a very specific skill was a bit hit or miss. Training a hundred smiths wasn’t that much more expensive, and made the odds of success significantly higher. Orphans needed a place to go, and all in all it was a mutually beneficial arrangement. Mostly.

Iona had severe doubts that it was all that benevolent, although Maples was well-funded from former kids who’d made their way in the world.

She chewed on her lip, refusing to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, Immortals could do some good. Sometimes. Even if by accident.

Figuring there was nothing to be gained by just standing in an open field, Iona took the first step into Modu.

It was anticlimactic. Just a soft crunch as Iona’s weight crashed through the thin ice. She put one step in front of the next, slowly ascending the polar cap of ice. Applying her will to the Mallium, Iona changed her boots, adding spikes to keep her stable on the ice.

Life rapidly withered away, choked under the smothering layers of frozen water. Iona was unsure how anything could survive out here.

Yet, as time passed and Iona’s rations dwindled, signs of life she saw indeed. Snowgrass thrived in the environment, the plant having figured out how to survive the harsh conditions when nothing else could. The pet project of an Immortal [Botanist] thousands of years ago, still thriving to this day.

It formed the foundation of the grand food web that gave life to the inhospitable environment. Elk, mice, rabbits, and more grazed on the grasses, foxes and ice wyrms preyed on them, and the circle of life continued.

Iona stayed well clear of any signs of civilization. The ice giants liked their castles made of ice, built large enough to accommodate them while throwing blinding light all over. Iona even saw a few in the distance, deep blue flesh glancing out from white furs as the giants went about their daily lives.

Iona carefully avoided killing anything, instead acting more like a scavenger, or a vulture. When a pack of wolves brought down an elk, Iona brazenly waltzed over. The wolves growled at her, and she growled back.

One of them lunged for her, and she casually backhanded it. She put enough force in the blow to show that she was serious, but not so much as to harm the wolf. It would’ve defeated the purpose of avoiding killing.

After all, if the elk was some prized specimen of a frost giant, it wasn’t Iona who had killed it. It was the wolves, nature itself.

Most of the pack circled her, investigating this strange, bipedal, metal-clad monster that had intruded upon them. Iona stood up tall, showing off her size and attempting to assert dominance, then slowly walked towards the carcass.

Two stragglers were busy chowing down on the elk, determined to get their fill before the rest of the pack made a decision.

The wolves snapped and barked at her, but were unwilling to engage in a life-or-death fight. The two gluttons scattered away from the elk’s body as Iona arrived. She grabbed her trusty axe, and with three sharp swings, liberated half the ribs.

Iona took her prize and left, the wolves descending upon the remains like… well, wolves.

Iona spent time traveling. Following the elk, seeing the southern lights. Encountering rare and fantastical plants.

Seeing the Reverse Glacier. A gigantic block of slowly moving ice, that reflected the reverse.

A beautiful field of summer flowers, with the moons up in the night sky reflected in the glacier. Iona was reflected as an elf, wearing cotton robes with dark hair. Her axe turned into a quill, and her fingers were stained with ink. A gaggle of children surrounded her.

A strange, magical place. The value of seeing what one magical object thought was the opposite?

Questionable. Not exactly worth a full journey on its own, but if it was on the way, well…

A few days later, she encountered the great lake. Somehow, the vast expanse of water wasn’t frozen, in spite of being on a bed of ice a mile thick, and was the second source of life in the arctic.

Iona had only learned of most of the animals recently because of Florence’s Friends. Seals and walruses lounged on the shores of the lake, while penguins waddled in herds.

If Iona was going to find a polar bear, this would be the place.

First was shelter. While the summer wasn’t supposed to have the vicious storms that plagued the area the rest of the year, it never hurt to have a bolt-hole. Reshaping her Mallium, Iona created a crude ice pick and shovel, and got to work.

After securing her shelter - and stocking it with the well-preserved body of a walrus, who’d died to injuries sustained in a fight for dominance - Iona went wandering.

She tracked penguins up until the point they dove into the water. She watched the seals play, their energy infectious. Wolverines slunk around, hunting hares, and lean big cats hunted, keeping herds healthy by preying on the slow, the weak, and the sick.

Iona was warm in her armor, but she knew if she got wet, if she fell into the water, she’d be in serious trouble. Not only would the water steal her heat, not only were there creatures in the water that occasionally caused mass exoduses, but there was a risk of everything just freezing.

Iona was strong.

She wasn’t stronger than Gaia, than Mother Nature herself, and refused to pit herself against the elements that way.

There was no night, not during the summer. Iona was sensitive to the needs of her body - all the better to ignore them in a fight - and slept in her little hidey hole when she thought it was appropriate. She could go for days on end without rest, thanks to her training, stats, and most importantly [Strength from the Stars], but why marathon needlessly?

Iona spent far too long getting breakfast together. The walrus was frozen solid, which perfectly preserved it and made it safe to eat, even if Iona had no vitality. However, it was frozen solid, and Iona didn’t have an easy way to thaw it.

She did it the hard way. Cutting off a piece, and chewing on it until that bite thawed, then moving on.

Iona had her fill, then carefully exited.

There was a new crowd in the area, a herd of wooly rhinos. Iona climbed to the top of a small hill, to better see and not be in the way of the creatures.

Iona was all too aware that they were wild beasts. They could turn on her in a second.

Not an exact temperament fit, but Alruna had bonded with a triceratops. It wasn’t like temperament was the end all be all. The idea of a wooly rhino was tugging on Iona’s heartstrings. She’d spent years around Alruna’s triceratops, and her death at Valkyrie’s End was a harsh blow to her mentor, and Iona. A wooly rhino was close in some respects, and far away enough in others. Both had strong natural armor that the Valkyries could augment. Both were herbivorous quadrupeds, with a business front.

Iona had gotten the vast majority of her training on Trikey, and most of it would transfer over.

Yeah, a wooly rhino would work well. Iona thought she might even go for one of the rhinos here and now, her divine blessing giving her a perfect look at the creature’s stats and skills, and letting her easily determine which creatures were the cream of the crop.

The beasts didn’t look like they were going anywhere in a hurry.

She darted back to her hidey-hole, grabbed her notebook, and headed back to her outpost. She went back to scanning the wooly rhinos, taking extensive notes.

Iona already had two candidates among the younger rhinos. One caster, and the second had unusually high stats for its level, indicating high-quality classes.

Iona was writing down the details of what she’d seen. A shadow crossed the sun, and Iona looked up after finishing the word she was writing.

Too late.

Chapter 25 - Sigrun VI

With a deafening cry that scattered the animals present, a wyvern landed with enough force to crack the mile-thick ice, partially landing on Iona.

Iona jumped out of the way at the last moment, but didn’t quite make it. The wyvern’s hindlegs slammed down on Iona’s lower left leg, utterly crushing and pulverizing it.

Her head slammed into the powdery snow, almost instantly cracking itself on the ice underneath and dazing her.

The wyvern blasted the wooly rhinos with a frost beam, hitting an arbitrary member of the herd and freezing it solid as the rest of the beasts scattered. The wyvern’s claws closed around Iona, cracking bones and cutting Iona open as it sheared through her armor like it wasn’t there. The wyvern hopped forward, grabbing the frozen beast with its other foot, then taking off once again.

Iona was only still alive thanks to her ever-present armor, reinforced by [Celestial Armaments], and her [Stellar Body]-boosted vitality. Otherwise, instead of being dazed and concussed, Iona’s head would’ve split open like a watermelon.

Iona rapidly got her bearings back, but they were already in the air, the wyvern flying back to her nest.

Iona liked her chances dropping from the absurd heights the wyvern flew at. The alternative was getting to the monster’s nest. Her arms were pinned against her side, but with a clever flick, she dislodged her axe from where it rested on her hip, the enchantments on the weapon snapping it to her hand.

She didn’t immediately attack the wyvern, no. She peeked at its levels, stats, and skills, looking for weaknesses to exploit, or conditional skills to avoid.

A weaker woman would’ve given up then.

Level 1045.

Ice. Mirror. Dark. All three elements were leaning towards magic and mage skills, the wyvern trusting in its own innate body and power to handle physical problems, and skills and magic to cover everything else.

The Ice let the ice wyvern live in the harsh climate, gave her a powerful breath attack, and let it half-merge into snowstorms. The Mirror protected her, reinforcing her scales against harm and reflecting attacks back, along with granting small empowerments. [You are what you eat] looked to be an absurd skill. Her Dark element both gave her some small measure of disguise, along with empowering her teeth and claws, and cutting through wind and air to fly faster.

The only odd skill was [Titanic Appetite], at only level 40.

Titanic Appetite: You greedy wanna-be dragon you! Devouring all that you see, from the moment you hatched until now, nothing can stop or sate you. You’ve got a bad habit of eating your prey as quickly as possible, and sometimes, they fight back! Take this skill, and turn your stomach into an inescapable cage, making any damage dealt to you appear on your still-struggling food instead. Increased activation time after eating per level.

Iona was doomed.

There was no point in struggling. The wyvern was too strong.

There was no point in not struggling. It wasn’t like the wyvern wouldn’t kill and eat Iona.

Wrapped in the monster’s claws, Iona tried to hack at the talons holding her. The angle was bad, and it was the wyvern’s claws. Innately powerful and tough, before skills and stats reinforced them.

Iona tried to use [Moon’s Descent], flickering the skill on and off to change her weight, hoping to destabilize the monster and fall out.

She liked her chances in surviving from a fall, versus single combat against the wyvern.

The wyvern didn’t even notice her attempts. It was casually carrying an entire wooly rhino next to her. Iona’s weight, even amplified, didn’t come close.

Iona was still in her armor. After looking at how she was being held, she tried to get her armor to "push" her out, leaving the armor behind as she tried to "slide" out of the wyvern’s grasp.

The wyvern noticed that, and flexed its claws a little tighter.

From her point of view.

From Iona’s? The air exploded out of her lungs as she was ruthlessly crushed, a talon casually piercing her skill-reinforced armor and digging deep into her hip.

A trail of blood trickled out of Iona, falling and freezing on its way to the ground. Bloody hail, marking her path.

Iona struggled to breathe, but got nowhere against the wyvern. Darkness encroached on her vision, the world turning to a single point.

Then Iona was falling, gasping for air, but with still enough presence of mind to activate [Snowflake Drift] and [Celestial Armaments].

She hit the ground, instinctively trying to roll to bleed the speed. Her leg, crushed by the wyvern landing then mauled by its claws, failed Iona entirely and she collapsed on the ice.

Reforming her Mallium armor to work as a brace, Iona scrambled back to her feet. As she formed a shield to go with her axe, she saw that she was in the wyvern’s nest, high upon a mountain. Frozen bones were scattered about, and a number of eggs were covered in a light layer of snow.

The wyvern landed heavily in front of Iona.

She screamed defiance at the beast, raising her axe for one last mortal battle. Determined to go down fighting. Determined to get in at least one solid blow on the wyvern.

The wyvern eyed Iona, and in one sharp snap of her toothy mouth, ate Iona whole.

For Iona, the world went from the too-bright sun reflecting unhindered off of snow, to the dark, warm mass of the wyvern’s mouth. The wyvern bit down, and all the parts of Iona that were outside of her jaws - everything from the knees down, and her left hand - got chomped off as the wyvern swallowed, compressing Iona as she went down the hatch.

She held onto her trusty axe, trying to dig it into the wyvern, trying to use it as an ice pick to stop her descent down the esophagus.

The blade bounced off the powerful muscles that were squeezing Iona, forcing her down, instead a long, bloody, vertical gash appeared on Iona’s neck.

With a splash, Iona was launched head-first in pitch darkness into a burning pool, the Valkyrie getting an intimate look at how wyvern digestion worked.

The acid burned, getting through the small cracks and chinks in Iona’s armor. Fortunately, it was "merely" concentrated, natural digestive acids, and not something deadlier.

Iona managed to hold what little breath she had left though.

Iona flipped herself around in the pool, then pushed off the bottom. Her stumps screamed in protest, and Iona found that the stomach acid formed a deeper pool than what she could "stand" in.

It was a moot point. There wasn’t any air to breathe in the stomach anyways, and suffocation would get Iona before the stomach acid dissolved her.

The wyvern’s belly was home to total darkness. There wasn’t the smallest mote of light that a skill or vitality could amplify, letting Iona see what was going on. She had to rely purely on touch, and that particular sense was currently going "AHHHH I'M BEING MELTED ALIVE!!!"

Iona was reminded of the [Titanic Appetite] skill that she’d seen. If she tried lashing out, she’d simply harm herself, instead of doing anything to the wyvern. Her throat was a reminder of that.

No, Iona needed to find another way out. She used her axe to feel along the edges of the stomach, both below the acid dissolving her flesh and above.

She was surrounded by powerful walls of flesh. A tight ring of muscles was at the bottom of the stomach, the esophagus was closed above her, and there was a deep, barely-scabbed over wound along one wall. The same injury, Iona speculated, that got the wyvern the [Titanic Appetite] skill.

Up was impossible, and Iona would die of suffocation before getting digested and pooped out, even if she could somehow get to the next part.

Iona stayed calm, even as a primal part of her was starting to panic. She came to a realization.

[Titanic Appetite] was a low-level skill. It acted on a time basis.

She must’ve been down long enough by now, right? Iona didn’t have the time to make small, careful, experimental cuts.

She took a mighty swing at the already-existing injury, blanching as a deep cut opened along her own belly, acid finding a new injury to pour into and burn her from the inside.

Iona tried to have patience, but the urgency of the situation had her swinging again.

Not quite as powerful. Iona’s efforts were rewarded with a shallow slice across her stomach.

She spent a moment sending a quick prayer off to her goddesses, finding the activity soothing and relaxing, along with taking up time.

Just what she needed.

Selene. Lunaris.

I’m dead. See you soon.

The goddesses finally spoke back, after the long silence since the solstice. Their voices were weak and far-off, like they’d run a marathon and were exhausted.

You got this.

Fight!

Iona felt strength fill her. Not from the goddesses, nothing so divine. Just in the sheer belief and support from someone close to her.

Iona was missing her left hand, but she used Mallium to make a crude substitute, letting her wield her axe in a two-handed grip.

Her lungs were burning, screaming for air. Iona exhaled a hair, to relieve the pain, but didn’t dare inhale. It’d just make it worse.

She sank down to the bottom of the stomach, acid closing over her head, then once she hit the bottom she flexed her hip. Iona erupted up out of the acid, like some ambush predator.

A third time her axe came down on the barely-healed injury, this time breaking through and opening it up.

Iona went into a mad frenzy, chopping and hacking against the tough, powerful muscles, breaking open arteries and hacking through connective tissue. She pushed herself forward, letting the flesh close around her as acid trickled in behind her. It ate the wyvern’s flesh just as readily as Iona’s.

She could tell the wyvern was in discomfort and pain, and that she was making headway. The entire world flipped and spun around Iona as she continued hacking away.

In five hacks she was at the heart - not that Iona could see it. She just knew whatever she was slicing at next was moving furiously.

She hit it with her axe until it stopped moving. She kept going, pushing through flesh and hacking anything she could reach as her empty lungs screamed for something, anything.

The feedback she got from her axe changed, Iona clearly cutting through something else as black spots impossibly swam in her sightless eyes.

[*ding!* Congratulations! You’ve slain a [Frost Wyvern (Ice,1045)]//[Frost Wyvern (Dark, 893)]//[Frost Wyvern (Mirror, 832 )]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [The Dusk Valkyrie] has leveled up to level 435->520! +20 Free Stats, +100 Strength, +100 Dexterity, +100 Speed, +180 Vitality, +20 Mana, +110 Mana Regen, +10 Magic power, +10 Magic Control from your Class per level! +1 Free Stat for being Human per level! +1 Mana, +1 Mana Regen from your Element per level!]

[*ding!* Congratulations! For reaching level 512, you’ve unlocked your third class!]

[*ding!* You’ve unlocked [Adult of Pallos - Earth]!]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Adult of Pallos] has leveled up to level 1->8!]

Iona ignored the rest of her notifications, including her Ice class level ups. Normally she’d be thrilled that she’d reached level 512, and gotten her third class. It was the great dividing line that marked her as an elite.

Iona was a bit busy staying alive.

The wyvern was dead. The fleshy cavern Iona was in was just that - pure flesh. As the wyvern died, all of its vitality passively boosting it, all of its strength vanished. Iona tore through the body like tissue paper, gasping in relief as she burst through its lungs, and got a breath of air.

Stale air, but air.

From there, Iona tried to hack her way out. It was simple enough until she reached the ribcage. The monster’s sturdy bones resisted all of Iona’s efforts to break them, and she was reminded that wyvern bones were some of the strongest materials in existence. She’d only managed to get through the scales because Iona was taking them apart from the inside. She managed to slice a hole to outside, breathing her fill of the crisp cold air.

It took some time to hack herself out. Finally, coated in blood and gore, great billows of steam from the heat meeting the cold, Iona emerged from the carcass.

Iona collapsed. Exhaustion threatened to overcome her and make her pass out and sleep. She resisted the pull, knowing that if she slept coated in liquid in the freezing environment, that she’d never wake up again.

She dragged herself to her - well, not her feet - the stubs where her legs ended, and drank the blood pouring out of the wyvern. It was pooling in a small depression. She sliced a piece off for herself, and ate it, feeling the unnatural warmth spread through her.

The frost wyvern, for all it lived in a freezing environment with Ice classes, had run hot. Its blood was near boiling, and enough of it poured out to form a proper liquid pool, briefly mimicking a hot pool.

Iona was freezing "standing up", the harsh winds on the mountain peak stealing away all her heat. She sank into the literal bloodbath, figuring the problem of "how to get out of here" and "how to dry myself" would be better handled while warm.

She was already soaked. Getting soaked again wouldn’t change a thing.

Dragons were the god’s greatest creation, bar none. The gods had experimented many, many times, trying all manner of different creatures, iterating on their designs before hitting the perfect formula for the grandest of all monsters.

Wyverns were a half-step below dragons. They were almost there. Not quite. They shared quite a few properties though.

Like, for example, their blood. Bathing in wyvern’s blood wasn’t the same as bathing in dragon’s blood, and it was a horrendous waste of precious material. [Merchants], [Traders], and [Hunters] would have conniptions if they saw how the blood was being used, let alone the rest of the body being left there.

Bathing in wyvern’s blood made the body innately tougher. It didn’t touch the System, it didn’t grant vitality or anything. It just made the body more.

It was a waste, considering what else wyvern’s blood could be used for. Crystalized, it made for weak mana storage, like Arcanite. It couldn’t hold mana in the same space to mana ratio, but it was possible to get more wyvern’s blood, as opposed to Arcanite. Used as ink, inscriptions and enchantments would take millennium to wear away, even without self-repair portions included. That was before the hundreds of potions and elixirs that called for it as an ingredient, or the weapons improved by quenching them in the precious substance during their forging.

Sadly, [Princess]-detection was reserved solely for dragon’s blood.

The other thing wyvern’s blood did when bathed in was help slightly with the recipient’s connection to the wyvern’s own elements. Luckily, the creature Iona had slain was Ice-aligned, promising her future class-ups with the element would be just a tad stronger.

A single scale flaked off of the frost wyvern’s body, landing right over Iona’s heart. Covering that spot so no more blood reached it.

Iona considered leaving it there. She didn’t know about wyvern’s blood, and she was exhausted. To her, it was simply a warm place to briefly recuperate and think.

The scale offended her sensibilities though, and she absent-mindedly picked it off.

Iona was dying. She had no legs. She had one hand. She had dozens of broken bones, countless strains and tears, her body was one gigantic bruise, and that was before the deep lacerations that criss-crossed her body, or the repeated dunking in acid she’d just undergone.

Slowly, but Black Crow was watching her, taking one hop at a time closer to her. Ready for when she inevitably succumbed to the combination of the environment and her injuries.

Iona needed every last edge she could manage. Any little bit that could help her survive. She allocated every single free stat she had.

She wasn’t at a temple, but the place would have to do. She leaned her head back on the edge of the blood pool, changing her armor around to act as additional supports for herself.

She closed her eyes, and entered into the world of her soul.

"Fast. Best class for me?" Iona asked her guide the moment she arrived. She expected a weak, weak healer class - she’d get in all sorts of trouble long term for it, but she’d be alive enough to GET in trouble - or some sort of wilderness survival class. Something like [Wounded Warrior of the Modu Wastes].

Her guide was her, and knew everything that was going on. Iona had complete faith in her guide’s ability to pick the right class for her. With a snap of her fingers, they arrived at an altar.

"Here." She gestured.

Iona didn’t waste a moment, getting down on her knees to pray. Still, she noted a dozen details, even as she started her class selection.

The braziers were burning blue. The moons were etched into the relief above the altar, and a pair of familiar statues flanked the place of worship.

Iona opened her eyes to a string of notifications.

[*ding!* Congratulations! You’ve upgraded your third class - [Paladin of the Moons] - Gravity]

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Paladin of the Moons] has leveled up to level 8->30! +50 Strength, +50 Dexterity, +50 Speed, +80 Vitality, +40 Mana, +40 Mana Regen, +100 Magic power, +100 Magic Control from your Class per level! +1 Free Stat for being Human per level! +1 Mana, +1 Vitality from your Element per level!]

She couldn’t believe it. The goddesses had chosen her to be their [Paladin].

At the same time, she could. Rare was the individual who’d been blessed by their gods, who didn’t get offered a class related to it.

Iona closed her eyes, sending off a quick prayer of thanks.

Lunaris. Selene.

Thank you. I will repay your trust.

She didn’t have much more to say, simply sending warm feelings their way.

She spent half a second looking at her new class. Gravity element, and it looked to be a spellsword. She’d need to use her magic just as much as her physical prowess.

There was another notification waiting for her, obtained while she was in the world of her soul.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Ice Affinity] has upgraded to [Ice Authority]!]

Iona lifted her head up, intending to get out of the pool. She was rudely jerked back down, as her blood-soaked hair had frozen solid to the cold ice below.

In the moment she’d rested her head against the ice, her blood-drenched hair had frozen solid to the ice. With a roar, Iona ripped herself from the ice. She then twisted around, and crawling, using her arms to move the rest of her body, dragging her stumps behind her, she hauled herself out of the pool.

Or tried to at least. Blood on ice was one of the slipperiest combinations possible, and Iona was hurt. She didn’t have a good grip, or good leverage. With a splash, she slid back into the bloodbath.

The most valuable skill Iona had immediately unlocked was [Telekinesis]. The ability to use her meager magic power and mana to move objects around.

Well, meager for her level. Significant for the tasks she needed to perform.

Iona reformed her Mallium to act as a claw-ice pick combo, and with a scream, slammed it into the bloody ice. Using [Telekinesis] on the rest of her armor, she gave herself a minor lift, negating gravity’s pull on her just a bit. Roughly a quarter of her weight.

It was enough. She was able to drag herself out of the blood as her mana pool rapidly drained. She accepted the notification that was presented to her.

[*ding!* Congratulations! [Snowflake Drift] has moved from [Traveling Archer] to [Paladin of the Moons] and turned into [Flight of the Valkyries]!]

Iona got to work.

The wyvern’s body represented a large fortune. Iona couldn’t carry out even a fraction, and was more concerned with survival. Her legs still ended at her knees, and she was still one-handed.

With some effort, she got her Mallium to rearrange itself, making crude prosthetics. They didn’t work well, and they cooled rapidly, transmitting the cold directly to Iona’s bones. Every step, every move with them sent pain lancing through her, [Chilled Mind] taking the edge off.

They also thinned her armor to the point where it was nearly worthless, and forget about forming a shield. The only value Iona’s armor had at this point was to be a basis for [Celestial Armaments], which could reinforce it.

Iona was forced to move slowly. Her collection of injuries was impressive, and she found herself using her newfound Gravity skills more and more to make simple, mundane things happen.

Shelter was the first task. She used the wyvern’s body, where it lay, along with the natural formation of the nest as the start of a shelter. Hacking off one of the wyvern’s wings let Iona encase the area entirely, keeping the elements off her.

It also kept the heat in, roiling waves of heat coming off of the wyvern’s spilled blood. The arctic conditions were trying to freeze it, but for now it was a source of warmth.

However, it wouldn’t be able to warm Iona forever. Nor would the flesh that she cut off and ate raw stay warm the entire way back home, even if she could, by some divine miracle, carry it all.

No, she’d need her armor to keep her warm, and she didn’t have enough of it. Not enough to walk on prosthetics and keep the heat in.

Iona improvised.

Using her hands and [Telekinesis], she ripped scales off the wyvern’s body, then carefully placed it on her armor. She reformed her Mallium around each piece, the wyvern scales giving bulk to the armor, along with being fantastic protection and insulation themselves.

Piece by piece Iona reformed her protection. With the basics secured - food, shelter, water from melting ice and a plan to not immediately freeze to death, Iona took a much-needed rest.

She was woken up by the sound of breaking eggs. She got up with a start, and moved as quickly as she could over.

Her hundreds of injuries were slowing her down. She moved too quickly, and the gashes on her stomach opened up, Iona’s bright red blood mixing with the wyvern’s blue. Every inch of her skin screamed, protesting any movements after having been bathed in acid, after having been digested and corroded away. Her hip didn’t work properly, and that was before her crude prosthetics were causing problems.

The eggs were hatching.

The first snout broke through the egg, but Iona had no mercy. She wasn’t going to pit herself against more wyverns. She wasn’t going to let the monsters grow up to become larger threats one day.

She wasn’t going to let them all hatch, then outnumber her thirteen to one. She was too weak.

Wyverns were, fundamentally, beasts. Animals. Her [Vow] didn’t apply when it came to extermination missions.

At least, that’s how Iona saw things.

The first and last thing the baby wyvern saw was Iona’s axe descending upon its head.

One by one Iona smashed the eggs, smothering the wyverns before they even had a chance.

Iona got to the last egg right as the baby finished fully hatching. She raised her axe up high, then hesitated. Seeing something in the baby’s eyes.

Her heart wavered, then softened, a plan rapidly forming.

One baby wyvern was manageable. She didn’t think it’d successfully kill her, not with Iona’s stats and levels.

Iona was also a dead woman walking. She was deep in the frozen wastes of Modu, on top of a mountain. A mountain that a wyvern lived on, one among many. She had an entire mountain range to traverse, then she needed to cross the entire frozen wasteland of Modu while crippled, hoping that one injury or another of hers didn’t finish her off, or attract predators that sensed weakness.

With no food. She could only carry so much of the wyvern’s meat, and that was on top of needing to climb and scale cliffs one handed, no-footed, while carrying the food.

In other words. A dead woman who hadn’t stopped moving yet.

The wyvern was looking around, already demonstrating signs of unusual intelligence.

Iona saw hope and promise in the wyvern’s eyes.

She could bond with it.

Protect it.

There was a difference in perspective with her [Vow]. A beast, that was potentially a threat to her? Fair game.

A helpless baby that Iona had chosen to protect and defend?

Well. That was a different story. A trick of perspective.

It would let Iona’s [Vow] kick in, giving her a gigantic edge against the threats that roamed, while having a partner that radiated threat, who could sense other creatures in the wilderness. Whose very nature could drive off problems.

Iona quickly hacked off a piece of the infant wyvern she’d just killed, then extended it to the newly hatched one. The last remaining wyvern.

It sniffed at Iona’s hand, then snapped, devouring its sibling without a shred of remorse. Iona hacked a piece of leg off of the dead wyvern who’d almost killed her. The mother of all the eggs here.

The baby wyvern ate the meat without a shred of complaint, looking at Iona with measuring, hungry eyes. Recognizing Iona as a source, a giver, of food. Wanting more.

"Fenrir." Iona whispered, petting the wyvern. "Your name shall be Fenrir."

[Name: Iona]

[Race: Human]

[Age: 22]

[Mana: 96,753/129,880]

[Mana Regen: 99,066]

Stats

[Free Stats: 0]

[Strength: 33,220 +(403,623)]

[Dexterity: 33,220 +(403,623)]

[Vitality: 61,732 +(160,503)]

[Speed: 36,655 +(445,358)]

[Mana: 12,988]

[Mana Regeneration: 39,464]

[Magic Power: 10,451]

[Magic Control: 10,451]

[Class 1: [The Dusk Valkyrie - Celestial: Lv 520]]

[Celestial Affinity: 508]

[New Moon's Dance: 488]

[Weapon Mastery: 475]

[Strength from the Stars: 520]

[Celestial Armaments: 520]

[: ]

[Stellar Body: 520]

[Gaze of the Galaxy: 420]

[Class 2: [Traveling Archer - Ice: Lv 370]]

[Ice Authority: 370]

[Shortbow Skills: 365]

[Blizzard Shot: 360]

[Chilled Mind: 370]

[Trick Shot: 357]

[Ice Arrow Conjuration: 358]

[Glacial Slow: 370]

[: ]

[Class 3: Paladin of the Moons - Gravity: Lv 30]]

[Gravity Affinity: 15]

[Telekinesis: 18]

[Lunaris's Gaze: 2]

[Lunar Mass: 30]

[Flight of the Valkyries: 30]

[Eclipse Strike: 1]

[Selene's Grace: 1]

[Harmony of the Spheres: 1]

General Skills

[Drawing: 190]

[Valkyries Valor: 520]

[Adaptable: 366]

[Tracking: 244]

[Vow of Iona to Lux: 405]

[Magnetic Charm: 190]

[Comprehensive Education: 282]

[Dinosaur Husbandry: 290]

Other

Blessing of Selene and Lunaris