Level One God

One moment, the constructs were charging at full speed. The next, they were covered in brown hairy masses and falling apart one limb at a time. Nails, iron banding, and pieces of wood flew in every direction.

The sound of creaking wood, bending iron, and crunching teeth was almost as deafening as the roaring crowds and announcers in the view portals.

When the dust settled, there was a mass of dusty grommets and half of the huge constructs were simply… gone. All that remained of the defeated machines were piles of construction materials.

I stared for a heartbeat, then found myself laughing in disbelief. All around me, my allies were standing in slack-jawed awe, weapons hanging limp at their sides. Some held their heads tilted to the side, brows scrunched as if they were trying to understand what they just witnessed.

The audience I could see through the view portals looked just as confused and amazed. But there was a notable exception.

King Theon leaned forward on his throne, face bright red as he pounded a small fist on the arm of his throne and shouted something to an assistant who nodded quickly, then ran out of view in a stumbling sprint.

If I had to take a wild guess, I'd say grommets weren't supposed to be able to dig their way into this tourney. Whatever the case, King Theon was clearly unhappy about this little turn of events.

The battle still raged, but it was hardly a battle. The surviving constructs had rallied and were trying to fight back, but they weren't designed to fight such small and fast targets. Grommets swarmed them like insects, removing nails, prying apart joints, stealing entire limbs when they could. I noticed a few grommets letting out victorious womps before disappearing into tunnels with pieces of construct clutched between their teeth like battle trophies.

One construct raised its club to smash a group of the furry creatures. Before it could swing, its arm fell off, carefully disassembled by a grommet team that had climbed its back. One of the team lifted a thick nail victoriously, then popped it into his mouth and chewed it to pieces.

"—WHAT A CREATIVE TWIST!" The announcer shouted. "THE THRASK GAME MANAGERS HAVE OUTDONE THEMSELVES. GROMMETS! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT?"

"EXACTLY. THE HORRIBLE BEASTS ARE NOTORIOUSLY HARD TO WORK WITH AND UNCOOPERATIVE. HOW DID THEY PULL THIS OFF, TOMIKUS?"

"YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE, PORTUS! BUT LET'S SEE HOW IT PLAYS OUT. WILL THE GROMMETS NOW TURN ON THE MONGRRELS?"

The wooden commander tried to restore order, staff pulsing with that brown light. But the grommets were beginning to try to pry it apart, too. Except the commander seemed to be formed of a single piece of wood, and I wasn't sure it could be disassembled. That wasn't stopping the grommets from biting it. Several hung by their teeth, noodly pink arms and flat penguin-like fleet flopping in the wind as the commander tried to shake them off.

"Don't just stand there!" I shouted to myself as much as everyone else. "Help them!"

We charged back into the fight, but it was almost over. Between our attacks from the front and the grommets' sabotage from below, the constructs didn't stand a chance. They fell apart one by one, reduced materials that the grommets immediately started stealing or stacking into neat piles, as if oblivious to the continued fight raging around them.

The commander had the same nub-style head as the rest, and it wasn't going down despite several slaves and aspirants hacking at it.

Even as I got closer, I saw the commander wind up and swipe its staff horizontally, knocking aside two slaves who fell to the ground groaning and grimacing. A few grommets flew free every time the commander attacked, but most of them made sounds in the air that sounded suspiciously joyful. They seemed to land okay, rolling into balls and popping back to their feet, eyes wide with excitement—or maybe battle rage.

I didn't have time to think too much about it, but something seemed different about these grommets.

I did what I could with Devour Mana, but everybody was running on fumes. The best I could offer was some subtle pain relief, so I tried to get in the mix even if I doubted I could do too much harm with a dagger. The construct commander was at least ten or twelve feet tall with legs as wide around as three people put together.

Lyria jabbed at it, but even with her Spear of Torment fully extended, she couldn't reach the head. None of us could.

A team of grommets was straining at it, trying to bite through it.

"Pull it off!" I shouted up to them, cupping my hands in hopes they'd hear.

One of the grommets tilted its head at me, as if it couldn't quite make out what I was saying. A moment later, it grabbed the grommet to its left and yanked it free, flinging it to summersault through the air and land in a small poof of dust.

I sighed. Not what I meant.

"Thorn," I said. "Do you have mana for another chain?"

"Just one. Maybe."

"Think you can hit it in the upper body? The higher the better."

The scarred and bearded slave nodded, focused, and then fired a rattling spear-tipped chain from his palm. It shot straight upwards toward the towering commander, who was still covered in scrambling grommets.

The chain punched into its upper chest with a loud crack and crunch.

"Everyone pull!" I shouted, reaching up to get both hands on the chain and start pulling.

Thorn understood, gripping the chain with his free hand and starting to inch backward like we were playing tug of war with a giant.

Others joined in as we started to pull and brought the chain low enough for them to reach.

The commander lurched forward, almost pulled off balance. And then I spotted a problem.

The fucking grommets were chewing on the chain, too.

"Hey!" I shouted as I strained and pulled. "Don't bite the chain!"

They weren't listening. More and more of them were seeing the chain and rushing in to join the chewing. Their flat, white teeth clicked and clattered as they chewed. More of them climbed down, hanging from their pink arms and gnawing on with eyes closed blissfully.

"Faster!" I shouted as nearly everyone joined in to pull.

Just as the commander lost its balance and started to tip forward, the chain snapped from a grommet bite, sending us all flying backward to land on our asses.

And then we were rolling or crawling out of the way as fast as we could because the commander was falling straight for us.

Its shadow spread as the thing tipped and fell, grommets launching themselves in every direction with victorious "womps" and other squirrely sounds.

As soon as it landed, several of us jumped on the commander's back and used our weapons to pry at the seam where its peg-like head was mounted to its torso. It took a lot of effort, but Lyria's long spear was a good enough lever to finally wrench it free.

It came off with an anticlimactic pop and a fizzle of magic.

And then the thing was finally motionless.

Silence fell over the battlefield.

The grommets popped up from holes in the ground, climbed on top of the dead commander, and one even tried to climb up my leg before I gave my leg a shake to get it off. Once the grommets were as high as they could get, they raised their little pink arms, bodies vibrating as they closed their eyes.

Womp womp womp.

Womp womp womp.

Womp womp womp.

Hector, who was absolutely filthy with blood and construct oil grinned at me, teeth oddly white against the mess on his face. "Womp fuckin' womp, eh? Never much liked grommets. But these guys are alright, I guess."

The grommets alternated celebrating and moving around to disassemble more of the constructs, continuing to pile crafting materials into increasingly high stacks. Another pair of grommets was organizing to collect the materials and carry them inside the outpost.

A grommet's head stuck out of the ground, wide circular eyes darting back and forth before it emerged.

"Grimbo," I said, breaking into a smile as he waddled toward me.

Grimbo wringed his small hands as if he was nervous, eyes downcast as he stopped in front of me. "This one is feeling… shame."

"Why?" I asked. "You guys just saved our asses."

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"Thrask Grommville watched… the Coil Grommville helped."

"Oh," I said. "Those are grommets from Coil?" Looking around, I thought I could maybe see a difference. Instead of mud brown, their hair was a little sandier with a few highlights. Some of them also seemed to be missing eyes and teeth, speaking of a slightly more hard existence. I wondered if they were all Level 1, like the Thrask grommets. Maybe these guys saw themselves as some kind of warriors?

"Mmmm, yes," Grimbo said, nodding his head. "Scary folk. Vicious. They are feeling… battle rage."

I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't sure I'd go as far as calling those grommets scary or vicious. It was more like the rowdy toddlers at a daycare. "Well," I said, searching for a way to help alleviate Grimbo's shame. "Who brought them here?"

Grimbo looked up, his mouth slowly spreading into an uncertain smile. "This one…"

"See? You're the one who saved our asses. I'm betting you guys did most of the digging while those maniacs goofed around, too."

Grimbo's smile widened, then he bowed and tried to kiss my feet.

"Hey, stop that," I said, trying not to laugh. I backed away, but he crawled after me, mouth making little kiss noises.

That was when Lyria walked up and gave me a long, searching look. In my moment of distraction, Grimbo got a hold of one ankle, gripping it tight as he planted a solid kiss on my boot.

He stood, smiling between me and Lyria expectantly. "Hello, friend of the horny one."

"Did you know they were coming?" Lyria asked.

I spared a glance for the many portals still swirling around the battlefield. I wasn't sure how much of what we said here might reach the other participants in the tourney. I considered claiming I knew they were coming and expected more of their help in the future.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "I knew they'd come because I personally made sure it was possible. I… did some things to help them dig in here."

Lyria frowned.

I could tell she was about to ask what the hell I was talking about, so I gave her what I hoped was a subtle bulging of the eyes, as if to say, just go with it.

Lyria hesitated, then nodded. "Good. That's good."

Grimbo was still smiling, oblivious to everything. "We are feeling… excitement. We like to watch."

I looked down at him. "Yeah, I know. So do they," I said, jerking a thumb to all the portals. It was still strange getting used to the idea of magic portals swirling like flocks of birds, each offering a silent view of dozens to thousands of watching crowds. I still couldn't figure out why the announcers and crowd noise seemed muted sometimes and not others. So far, it seemed like I could hear it all during combat, but not in between.

Somehow, I doubted the announcers ever stopped talking. I assumed we just couldn't hear them right now.

A relatively large grommet approached. He was missing several teeth, but smiling happily as he lifted what looked like a wooden finger for me, lowering his head and closing his eyes, the offered finger held high. "For you," the grommet squeaked.

"Uh, thanks?" I accepted the finger, not sure what else to do.

The grommet beamed at me, then rushed off to join the others. The scene was one of exhausted chaos.

Some of the portals were drifting off as people tried to meditate and I used the fresh mana to patch up their wounds. Others were simply sitting, eyes haunted as they stared at nothing.

Thraskian grommets had emerged once the fighting was over and were chasing off the slightly more chaotic Coil grommets. The Thraskian grommets were making neat stacks of materials and carrying them inside the outpost.

"Hey, Grimbo?" I asked quietly, kneeling so I could keep my voice low.

His eyes were oddly… sparkly up close, like an amazed child.

"Yes?" he whispered, mouth forming a near perfect circle of awe.

"How did you guys actually get in here?"

"Grommets are finding ways," Grimbo said with a mysterious twinkle in his teacup sized eyes. "We like to watch," he said, as if that explained everything.

All around, the grommets were disappearing into the holes they'd emerged from.

"But now it is time for us to be leaving. For now," he said.

"You're leaving?" I asked.

"We will be watching! Helping!" Grimbo said, then he was gone.

Grommets all around dove into existing holes or started digging new ones.

In a few seconds, they were all gone.

"What the ever-living-fuck just happened?" Thorn asked.

"Good fortune," Ramzi said with an easy smile, his deep voice oddly soothing as he patted Thorn on the shoulder.

"Since when can grommets fight?" Lyria asked.

"Grommets are misunderstood creatures," Zahra said. The silver stars in her dark, nearly purple skin caught the afternoon sun, glinting like gemstones. "There are tales of warlike grommets in the frontiers. They mold their communities after their leaders. Most are pacifists, yes, but not all."

"Huh," I said, pursing my lips in thought.

"They all dig, though," Zahra said, as if in afterthought. "Every Grommville I've ever read about treats the art of digging like a religion.

I looked at the wooden finger in my hand. "Well, in any case, I'm pretty sure we just got saved by an army of voyeur rodents."

"I'll take it," Hector said, then promptly tipped backwards and fell unconscious with a loud thump.

Yolo was on him instantly, vines wrapping the big man in a healing cocoon. "He'll live," the tomte announced. "But he needs rest."

I looked around at our battered group. The grommets were always mildly amusing, but the gravity of our situation settled over me like dark clouds. Alive or not, we'd still lost two people.

Both had been slaves whose names I'd never learned. And that wasn't counting all the dead or wounded who hadn't been able to join up with our group during the chaos of the drop.

Several others bore wounds that would scar. But in the end, we'd won. Somehow, against odds that should have crushed us, we'd won. Maybe it was just one battle of many more before this tourney would end, but it was a start.

I turned my attention to the outpost, which appeared to stand empty. Both the huge front gates were standing wide open, almost like inviting arms welcoming us in.

"Come on," I said, exhaustion hitting me like a physical weight. "Let's get inside and see what we're working with. This place is ours, now."

We climbed the slope slowly, those who could walk helping those who couldn't. Inside, there were shed-like buildings standing against the inner wall. They weren't much, but I imagined we could carve out some living spaces in here. There was a well at the center with a bucket, and…

"Is that an altar?" Zahra asked.

It was. A stone platform in the center of the small courtyard, carved with runes that seemed to shift and dance in my vision. Just looking at it made my skin tingle with anticipation.

"I'm guessing we should touch that," I said, remembering what Talia told me on the airship about being able to unlock skills and equipment after capturing territory.

We gathered around the altar, even those being supported by others. As one, we placed our hands on the warm stone.

The world exploded into light.

OUTPOST CLAIMED!

The notification burned across my vision in letters of gold. Even without Voidgaze, I could see them clearly. But that wasn't what made my breath catch. It was what came next.

My inventory grid appeared. It was the same view I saw when I tried to sort through my slipspace with Voidgaze. I could see my cursed bedroll standing apart from all my other items. It was fully colored in, but everything else was grayed out.

There was a single open spot beside it, and I understood what that meant.

I could claim a second item from my inventory now that we'd captured the outpost. It was our reward.

I really wanted to grab my Silver Scream Bow, but I knew it would be almost useless without potions to fill the arrows. The same was true of my Alchemist's Kit. And so far, I'd done okay just supporting my allies where I could. My Mana Bender's Raiment was one of my most powerful items, but it was largely a defensive item in combat. Considering my ability choice was defensive, I knew it would be smarter to try to balance offense and defense when possible.

But I knew the choice of my next item shouldn't have anything to do with combat. I needed to protect my identity more carefully. Ithariel could show up to watch at any moment in one of those portals, and I didn't know if blood and mud on my face would be enough to truly hide my face.

Hell, I didn't even know if the illusion on Voidgaze would work on him, but I knew it was something I shouldn't take chances with. I needed that helmet. Without it, one unlucky turn like a downpour or an enemy who fought with water magic was all it would take to reveal me to thousands. The ability to identify my enemies and see their level and ranks would also be nice to have back, not to mention the poison resistance Voidgaze granted me.

The only remaining worry was whether my illusion would hold long enough for the tourney to complete. But I had asked the illusionist for the longest lasting enchantment he could offer, and he assured me the extra cost would buy me at least "several" weeks. It wasn't an exact timeframe, but it was better than nothing.

Without much more thought, I slid the helmet to the open inventory slot and watched the color fill in on its icon.

With a thought, Voidgaze materialized in my hands. I felt a rush of relief as I slid it over my head. The familiar weight, the subtle enhancement to my vision, and most importantly, the protection it offered my identity.

The moment it touched my skin, notifications flooded my awareness.

You've reached Level 6!

You've reached level 7!

You've reached level 8!

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Three levels from a single morning of fighting.

Holy shit.

The experience from taking down aspirants and surviving the melee must have been substantial. I knew the benefit of gaining levels was subtle, but I'd slowly picked up on the effects as I advanced from level one to fifty in Wood.

I still thought of it like a hose back on Earth.

My rank was like the water pressure coming from the pipes. My level was the thickness of the hose itself. And then my own mastery and practice was a little bit like the shape and style of attachment on the end of the hose. All three worked together to create my overall level of power and mastery with spells. And each rank massively improved my potential and the power of my spells.

But increasing my rank had also made subtle changes to my body, so it wasn't just about mana. I'd grown a little taller, a little broader, and a little stronger. And that change hadn't been gradual. It had happened the moment I advanced.

There was still more to learn, but I at least knew enough to know each level I gained mattered. Every level was a little more power, and I'd need each scrap I could get my hands on for what was coming.

Around me, others were making their own selections. Those that had equipment to claim, at least. I knew some of the slaves literally had nothing. Unlocking extra equipment slots was pointless for them. But the aspirants smiled as armor materialized on bodies that had been vulnerable or new weapons flashed into existence. The change in our group's morale was immediate and obvious.

"There we go," Thorn's voice was deep with satisfaction. "I've missed this beauty."

He gripped a simple iron blade like it was made of gold. Beside him, Sylara ran her fingers along the edge of a curved dagger, features carved in happiness.

"Hey!" Hector's voice came from inside one of the buildings. He must have recovered from his healing cocoon while we were claiming equipment. "There's something in here you need to see!"

We found him in one of the buildings. He was standing before what looked like a wooden workbench. As I approached, I recognized the carved runes, the careful construction. This wasn't just furniture. I'd seen stations like this in shops all over Thrask.

"It's a crafting station," I breathed, and then I noticed exactly what the grommets had done. There were piles and piles of wood, nails, and iron banding stacked neatly in the room.

"Oh," I said, a smile forming on my lips. The picture of what was going on formed in my mind all at once. The creatures we destroyed had dropped crafting materials. And the outpost had a low level crafting station.

We weren't just earning outposts to unlock spells and abilities. We were supposed to form our own miniature kingdoms. We'd just taken down a bunch of monsters made of wood and earned piles of it. So would there be outposts and castles for other materials like metals or alchemical ingredients? Could we find higher level crafting stations to make even more advanced equipment?

I realized we needed to work fast. We didn't just need to assign people to gather materials, we needed more outposts. Maybe even some of the castles and keeps. If other teams captured them first, their advantage would be even bigger than I'd initially thought.

"Tell me somebody knows how to use this thing."

A slave stepped forward, hand raised sheepishly. "Before I was a slave, I was a carpenter."

"Think you could make something with all these materials?" I asked.

The slave studied the pile of materials and a slow grin crossed his face. He gave a shrug, hefted a piece of wood, and nodded, almost as if to himself. "Aye. That I could."