Level One God

Vitus

I touched the grommet’s aura, confirming he was either as powerful as a small twig or exceptionally gifted at hiding his strength.

“Caution,” I said slowly. “Something is wrong here.”

The seven of us, drenched in blood and hardened after a full day of slaughter, slowly approached the grommet with our weapons held high.

The grommet waited patiently, large eyes partially shielded by hair. Its rocky, flat, white teeth also peeked out from behind the hair, almost like a smile.

“What do you call yourself?” I demanded.

“This one is Grimbo,” it said. “My friends are… excited to meet you.”

We all shared a concerned look.

The grommet turned and shuffled back the way it had come, beckoning us to follow with one hand.

“We’re all still on guard,” I said through my teeth. “Understood?”

The others gave tight nods as we followed. The grommet led the way, never breaking its slow, shuffling pace, even when one of its spindly arms shot out to yank a root from the wall. “Grimbo” constantly bit things and left the half-eaten remains on the ground as we walked.

I had heard of grommets, of course. They were known to tunnel beneath cities, sometimes causing the accidental collapse of important infrastructure. Worst of all, the grommets had an unknown source of immense wealth. No matter where they went, they seemed to be able to bribe their way to whatever aims they desired. Thankfully, I had never met or heard of a grommet who sought power. No, the beasts only liked to watch powerful people do things. But their perversion and voyeurism came at the cost of order and predictability.

And now they were in a dungeon? It didn’t make sense. The dark mana at the core of a dungeon formed a protective bubble. Sometimes, it came in the form of magical, nearly impenetrable rock. Other times, it was traps, mist, rocky cliffs, bottomless depths, lava, or curses. In short, dungeons wanted people to come in through the front door. Even grommets wouldn’t be able to avoid it.

That meant this fellow had walked into Beastden, yet I had been at the entrance the entire time. How could I have missed him? I supposed he could have found a seam in the protections on his way inside. Maybe he had dug off to the side before reaching the main entrance chamber?

My mind was still puzzling over it all when we reached a large, open cavern. It took a few seconds for my mind to process the scene.

A wooden fort stood in flaming ruins at the center of the cavern. Torn ratling bodies dangled over the battlements, slumped over at the controls of stationary ballistas and catapults. The moat surrounding the fort was clogged with splintered wood, blood, and shattered rock.

The fires sent thick, acrid plumes of smoke billowing upward, where they were sucked into a suspicious, gaping hole in the ceiling.

Dozens of grommets wandered around the wreckage, poking, prodding, or picking things up and biting them.

More godsdamn grommets? One grommet slipping into the dungeon was a curiosity. This many was madness…

Then I saw six adventurers. Four looked human, and two were sekmeti. Sekmeti in a dungeon this far from the Sekmet Sands was unheard of. Had someone brought their slaves down here? But the dynamic in the group was all wrong for slaves and masters. The purple-skinned sekmeti seemed at ease and relieved, maybe even happy.

I was puzzling it out when Grimbo approached the humanoids, said something, and they all turned toward us as we stood at the entrance of the chamber.

A man in a simple metal horned helmet approached us with a red-haired girl at his side. He wore well-made boots and a cloak that were pristine. His pants looked a little too large and were torn and filthy. His shirt was all but gone, ripped, burned, and melted down to scraps that barely covered his lean, muscular torso. There was what appeared to be a magic pebble rolling beside him. It was ghostly blue and following him like some sort of pet.

The man was Iron rank, but there was something else to my sense of him. I couldn’t put my finger on it, except to say all my instincts were on high alert.

The girl looked like she could handle herself as well, though I only sensed Wood levels of power from her.

“Careful of the man with the helmet,” I warned quietly as he approached. “He may be dangerous.”

My eyes slid past the approaching pair to the huge, hairless rat corpse at the center of the fortress. It was half skeleton by now as the flames continued to lick the flesh and hair from the corpse.

A summoner, perhaps. I had suspected as much, though I began to expect to find the dungeon heart in this room, too. The lack of dark mana crystals, huge trees, obelisks, or temples told me it wasn’t here.

Just an abomination and bad luck, then…

I had heard tales of dungeon guardians taking the form of summoners. When that happened, an Iron level dungeon quickly turned into a problem for Silvers and Golds. Histories even told of great cities being lost when Silver or Gold dungeons spawned with summoner guardians.

Even if that giant corpse didn’t belong to the dungeon guardian, it shouldn’t have been possible for the people and grommets I saw to do this. One Iron and five Woods? Not only were summoners exceptionally powerful classes of beast, but this summoner was also within a fortified position and well-guarded by minions.

The swarm of grommets also made no sense. What were they all doing here? How were they here?

I was reminded of Mother’s advice. The calm mind sees truth through chaos. The wild mind sees chaos in the calm.

I took a steadying breath, eyes focused on the pair, who had stopped a few feet away from us.

The girl spoke. She had short red hair that fell just below her chin, blue eyes, and looked to be in her early twenties. Her simple plate armor was scratched, dented, and filthy. Her clothes and face weren’t doing much better, either. It looked as though she had been tunneling through dirt for days, making the whites of her eyes and teeth seem unusually bright. Even through the grime, I noticed she was quite attractive, but didn’t dwell on such trivialities.

“We thought there would be more of you,” she said.

I would have asked them how they reached this room, but the group of grommets answered that much. As Mother would say, asking questions you know the answers to only reveals what you know. Revealing what you know to a stranger is foolishness to be avoided when possible.

“I could say the same for you.” I gestured to the carnage behind the pair. “How many did you lose in the siege here?”

They both looked a little surprised by my question, shared a look, and then the girl spoke. “None.”

I didn’t let my surprise show. It was impossible, but… Showing them my disbelief would accomplish nothing. Instead, I acted as though I was taking it in stride, even if I could hear the men and women behind me murmuring excitedly.

The strange, magical pet rock sat motionless beside the man’s foot. Upon closer inspection, I would almost say it had a lumpy, misshapen face formed of bumps and grooves in the small stone… Was it smiling at me?

“We’re the Azure Guard assigned to this dungeon,” I said, back straight and chest proud, despite the aches and pains of such a long battle. “If you need assistance, you may ask.”

The man with the horns spoke. “Are there others?”

The cold intensity in his eyes reminded me of some of the powerful people my mother regularly hosted in our keep. I had practice not faltering before such confidence, so I met his eyes, unblinking. “We suffered many wounded, many too exhausted to fight on, and two casualties in our push for this place. The others are all waiting in the entrance chamber.”

I hated to admit that I felt like a fool admitting as much to him. These six people had taken down the fortress and the summoner itself without even suffering wounds, from the looks of it. Meanwhile, my much larger force, which included several Irons, had suffered two casualties and many more wounded. But I needed to set my pride aside. We had fought for the same goal, and his success was our success. This wasn’t about comparing the sizes of our swords.

“We thank you,” I added after a few moments. “You have likely saved our lives with your work here. We’re in your debt.”

He nodded. “We’ll get some good accomplishments for this. Don’t worry about it.”

Accomplishments? Was that all he was thinking about here? Gods… The man was a lunatic.

“I think we may have blown up anything worth keeping,” he added. “But feel free to scavenge what’s left for loot. We’re all heading out.”

I stared at him feeling slight disbelief at his nonchalance. Heading out? “Will you push for the dungeon heart, next?”

Again, the man and woman shared a look as something secret passed between them.

“No,” she said after a short delay. “I don’t think we’ll go that way.”

The man turned his back to me, raising his voice. “Ramzi!” he called. “Grommets! Time to go.”

The grommets began making a womping sound as they took final, exploratory bites of things, scooped random objects into their furry bodies, and then rushed to gather up with the man who wore the horned helmet.

Marcia Anukis slipped past me to walk beside the man with the helmet. The girl was barely in her twenties yet, but built sturdily, as many in her position were. Being trained from birth to avoid disappointing the legacy of powerful parents had a way of drawing the most out of some. Others wilted under the pressure.

“I’m Marcia,” she said, extending a hand to the man with the helmet. Marcia wore perfectly fitted ebony plate mail. I knew the material well. It was dangerous to acquire, expensive, and exceptionally hard to pierce by ordinary means. The tell-tale black hue made it easily recognizable on a battlefield. Her dark hair matched the armor and was worn in a long braid down her back.

“Brynn,” he said.

The red-haired girl hung behind the pair, watching Marcia carefully as if she might need to stab the woman in the back at a moment’s notice.

“How the hell did you guys do that?” she asked.

“We were lucky to have the right tools for the job,” Brynn said.

Marcia leaned closer, putting a hand on his shoulder so she could get a better look at him. “Lucky?” she asked, half laughing.

The red-haired girl cleared her throat. “We don’t know you people,” she said. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d feel better if you gave Brynn some space.”

“Are you his bodyguard?” Marcia asked, turning to walk backward as she looked Lyria up and down. “Let me guess… low-born with aspirations of one day reaching Iron? Maybe you’re hoping to earn enough money to pay off your father’s gambling debts? Or—ouch!”

She kicked at the little ghostly pebble, which had suddenly zipped forward as if head-butting her ankle. She missed as it zipped and weaved away to roll on top of Brynn’s foot, as if for protection.

“Hey, Pebble,” Brynn said. “Do you mind going ahead to scout the exit? Look for anybody we might recognize. Understand?”

The rock gave a small hop, then rolled off at high speeds into the darkness ahead.

Brynn turned his attention to Marcia, expression suddenly pure ice. “Be careful how you talk to my friends. You’re right. You would have never heard of us, and maybe you would be wise to avoid provoking people you know nothing about.”

Marcia stared back at him with a touch of defiance. “People worth knowing wind up in the rankings, and I know all the top-ranked Irons.”

Brynn gave the red-haired girl a strange look I couldn’t read at that. Was he surprised because he expected to be high enough on the rankings to catch her notice? No… That wouldn’t make sense. Marcia was fanatically obsessed with climbing them. She would’ve known the names a hundred, maybe two hundred spots down the list. Surely, he couldn’t expect her to know of him if he was deeper than that.

“We have been through too much shit in the past few days to deal with your petty bullshit,” he said. “That’s my friend, and if you want to speak to her, you should check your tone next time.”

I expected Marcia to snap at him, but she surprised me by bowing her head slightly.

The way he stood up for his people impressed me. I had known many leaders and would be leaders in training. Showing your men and women that you wouldn’t stand for disrespect toward them was a highly effective leadership strategy.

So he wasn’t only capable in combat. He was good with people and gathering them to his cause. If the way the red-haired girl acted was any indication, he inspired true loyalty, too.

“Apologies,” Marcia said after an appropriate moment to let Brynn’s words sink in. “I suppose a more proper introduction is in order, then. I’m Marcia Anukis. My father is Kalkus Anukis, top interrogator in the divine house of Azmeria.” While she spoke softly, I imagined she was hoping to verbally bludgeon him into submission by dropping the name of her father.

There were few in all of Eros who would want to step on the wrong side of the House Azmeria interrogators. Fewer still who would cross Kalkus and his legendary temper.

“Okay,” Brynn said, the blank look on his face making it seem as if he had never heard of the man. I suspected it was an act, but he was a very good actor. It really looked as if he had never heard of Kalkus. The red-haired girl, on the other hand, had gone a shade whiter.

Marica raised her voice slightly, gesturing toward me. “And this is Vitus Ra-Set.”

I wanted to sigh. This was getting embarrassing.

Brynn looked at me. “Nice to meet you.”

I almost laughed. The man was exceptionally good at pretending he had never heard of us.

“His mother is Caliphra Ra-Set,” Marcia said, apparently determined to cow the man by proving how powerful our parents were. Mentioning my mother was certainly one way to pull out the largest sword in the armory, so to speak. “Diamond Rank General of the First Order, Victor of the Battle of the Bloodied Sands, The Siege over Red Water, the four-time champion of the Coil tourney, and personal advisor to Ithariel himself…”

She paused after her words, face triumphant. Surely, even this man would show a glint of surprise to know he was in the presence of—

“Alright,” he said calmly, continuing to walk.

Now, I did laugh softly to myself. Gods. I was constantly surrounded by the self-importance of nobility and their children. Seeing a low-born refuse to bow and scrape was admittedly refreshing, even if it might get him killed or worse before long.

“Marcia,” I said. “Would you mind going ahead to let the others know we’re coming? I appreciate you taking the time to exchange information with our new friend, though.”

She clenched her jaw. The excuse gave her an opportunity to slip away from what would likely be an uncomfortable remainder of our walk. For her part, Marcia seemed to recognize what I was doing and appreciated the gesture. Brynn likely didn’t realize I was saving him from giving her another sleight. One more push, and she might have felt honor-bound to act against him, whether by her own hand or with a whisper to her father.

She gave Brynn a lingering, heated look, then nodded to me. “As you wish,” she said, jogging ahead.

“What an exhausting girl,” the red-haired girl sighed.

“It’s a symptom of the world we live in. Try to forgive her,” I said. “We also spent the past day locked in constant battle with hardly a moment to rest and recover. We’re all on edge right now.” The red-haired girl fell back slightly, giving me an opportunity to move beside Brynn.

Once we had some privacy, I lowered my voice so none of the others would hear. With Marcia’s nonsense behind us, I could ask Brynn what had really been on my mind. I could ask him the dangerous question I couldn’t even allow my own men and women to overhear. “May I ask what you’re doing down here with escaped slaves?”

There was a chance Brynn was a callous slaver like so many others. Maybe they were his property or maybe he had found them, collected them, and planned to sell them once he reached the city. None of it would’ve surprised me too greatly. But I sensed something in the slaves that made me suspect he was different. Maybe he was one of the few who would rather see the slaves freed, even if it meant economic costs or inconveniences to those who relied on their labor.

He met my eyes. “We’re helping them.” He stopped walking and squared up to face me, eyes locked on mine. “Is that going to be an issue with you guys? This place has already thrown everything possible at us and we’re still standing. If you guys want to try to stop us too, then let’s get it over with.”

That was new. I had to stop myself from smiling as an old, rarely lit fire sputtered to life deep inside me. Hardly anyone ever dared to challenge me directly. If I didn’t find myself liking the man, I may have indulged him just for the thrill of the fight.

In Coil, Thrask, and all the inner circles of human territory, there was a hierarchy within the ranks. With a Diamond for a mother, my rise to the top ten among Irons had been both meteoric and expected. In other words, people either tried to win my favor or avoided me entirely. It had been a very long time since somebody had locked eyes with me and issued a direct challenge like this.

The only explanation was that he truly didn’t know who I was.

Curious.

At his words, my men and women had shouldered their way through the cramped tunnel to get as close as they could, ready to protect me after his words. His people also gathered in close as the clueless grommets wandered between us, continuing on as usual.

I held up a calming hand to them. “It’s alright,” I said. “Nobody is going to fight. I just need a moment to talk to him alone some more. Now,” I added when my people weren’t moving.

“It’s alright,” Brynn said, getting his people to back off as well.

Reluctantly, the gathered crowd of my people and his hung back as we moved ahead of the group again. The grommets seemed happy to stop and tug things from the wall or ground, allowing us another bubble of privacy after the tense moment.

Brynn’s red-haired friend was the only one who lingered just outside of ear-shot.

I spoke softly. “I have no qualms with you, Brynn. In fact, I respect what you’re doing. I am… connected with several who sympathize and regularly act in the shadows to undermine the slave trade. In Thrask, there’s a tavern by the docks called On The Ropes. A retired captain regularly visits. His name is Massian Rahma. He’s a tomte with one arm and three fingers on his remaining hand. You can’t miss him. Hide your friends when you get out of here, tell him what they are, and he’ll make sure they find safe transport to wherever they may need to go. Understand?”

Brynn’s squinted, forehead creasing. “You want to help them?”

“I do. But many wouldn’t. You should let others believe they are your slaves. It’s a criminal offense to bring slaves into a dungeon like this, but the punishment is a fine and a slap on the wrist. It’s also the sort of thing that most will overlook. Consorting with escaped slaves is a far more serious crime. Often a deadly crime.”

Brynn held my gaze several seconds, as if trying to determine if he believed me. Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright. Thank you.”

The Iron let me walk by his side as we continued into the narrow tunnel with the girl never far behind us.

It would be about five minutes before we reached the thickest of the ratling corpses and ten before we reached the exit chamber. “Do you have any word from the Iron section of the dungeon?” I asked. “Our last reports were days old, but told of an Eclipsed killing freely and making his way to the dungeon heart.”

“Yes,” Brynn said. “That was true.”

I clenched my teeth. “I feared as much. At least with the summoner dead, I can spare a runner to Thrask. If we’re lucky, they may be able to send a Silver to clean this mess up once and for all. Things have gotten too far out of hand in Beastden, I’m afraid.”

“If the Eclipsed was already dead, would there be a reward for the person responsible? Something like points or trophies?” Brynn asked.

I turned slowly to look at him. Until that moment, the man had seemed completely unshakable and uninterested in anything but walking out of this dungeon without disruption. What sort of question was that?

The red-haired girl was bulging her eyes like she wanted to smack him on the back of the head.

“A reward?” I chuckled. How did he not already know such things? The question only raised a dozen more about this strange man. It also made his ignorance about my family and Marcia’s seem even less like a ruse. I decided to answer, partly expecting to be walking into a joke of some sort. “If you’re part of the adventurer’s guild, yes. You would gain standing within the guild. The official rankers would likely want to know about it as well. Something like that would also improve your standing among the Irons, of course.”

Brynn’s face now looked completely different. He wasn’t bothering to hide his curiosity. The red-haired girl must have seen it too, because she jumped in. “Anybody capable of killing an Eclipsed on their own wouldn’t care about something as trivial as a place on the rankings, I’m sure,” she said.

Alone? Who had said anything about someone killing it alone?

“The rankings are hardly trivial,” I protested, though it was partly to goad Brynn, who was obviously interested. Maybe his curiosity would prompt him to admit something he hadn’t planned on revealing.. “They can earn you entry into tourneys, offer prestigious mentorships, grant access to restricted paved paths, and grant a great deal of respect.”

Brynn was watching me with obvious interest.

The girl spoke first. “None of that matters, though, right Brynn?” she prompted.

He slid his eyes to her, then back to me. “Hypothetically, how much would something like that improve someone’s standing in the rankings? And you didn’t say anything about trophies…”

The girl hung her head as if in defeat.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why am I getting the impression you killed the Eclipsed?” It was a ridiculous question, and I expected him to laugh it off. Instead, he looked conflicted, as if he wasn’t certain he should tell me.

“No…” he said, shaking his head. “I was only curious to know more about the rankings. I don’t know anything about the Eclipsed or the dungeon heart.”

“You said it was true about the Eclipsed killing freely,” I said. “It sounds as if you do know some things.”

“Rumors,” Brynn muttered, then picked up his pace and walked on ahead of me. The red-haired girl sped up to join him, but not before shooting me an evil look.

The slaves and the two humans from his party still stayed near the back of the group. I looked their way, noticing for the first time that the human man and woman were also slaves. I hadn’t been close enough to see their tattoos, but now I could see them and even touch them with mana to sense the tracking magic within them.

Gods. Four slaves?

Julius joined me. “What do you think of it all?” he asked.

“It’s all… highly unusual, to say the least. Somebody powerful enough to do that to the summoner should be known to me, unless he has been deliberately hiding his capabilities from the rankers, but…” He had been so curious about the rankings. Would someone that interested really deliberately hide their accomplishments? It wasn’t unheard of, of course, but it was exceptionally rare for a Wood or Iron to bother masking their power. That was the sort of thing Golds and Diamonds toyed with.

“But?” Julius aksed when I didn’t elaborate.

I shook my head. “The only one of the whole group I sensed at Iron was the man with the helmet. Did you sense the same?”

Julius nodded. “Think there was a Silver with them masking their aura?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “If not, I think we will be hearing more about that man in time. His name may be one to remember.”

I didn’t bother telling Julius how insane my true suspicions were. I believed that man had somehow slain the Eclipsed on his own. I also believed he had been the main reason his group was able to clear the summoner and the fortress. How any of that was remotely possible, though, I couldn’t begin to guess.

In my time consorting with powerful people, I had learned a kind of universal truth. Power and capability had a language of their own. True power and confidence leaked from people. It radiated from them like heat, whether they tried to show it or not.

Some tried to fake it with the boastful confidence of youth or arrogance, like Marcia. There was also the misplaced confidence of the foolish, like Julius—though I was beginning to come around on him, in particular.

And then there was the blinding certainty of those who knew they were dangerous. It was the confidence of people who had faced impossible odds and come out on top again and again. I had seen it in Golds and even the rare Diamond I had met aside from my mother. I hadn’t ever seen it in an Iron.

I swallowed hard, then continued to walk. Who the hell was this man, and where had he come from?