The Truce ended with a chime.

  Sam was sitting on a rock staring into the depths of a shadowy gorge when his tafla let out a long, slow ring. The sound of the gong shattered his concentration, and he pulled up the screen in a panic.

  [Truce Concluded - Let the War Commence]

  Ring Purge Initiates in 28:00:00:00

  His heart pounded against his ribs as he read and re-read the message. Three weeks. Somehow, he’d survived three weeks among the forests and crags of Elysium’s slopes. Monsters, necromancers, and mad gods had all seen fit to take a swing at him, and somehow he’d survived unscathed.

  Well, not entirely unscathed, he mused, rubbing the stump of his pinky. It still throbbed on occasion, as though reminding him that it was still there.

  The musical theme of the Memoria played as the broadcast started in the corner of his tafla. He eyed it for a second before minimizing it. The week’s hunting had been mediocre at best, and he was sure that he’d finally fallen off the leaderboard.

  For the first time since the War began, he’d legitimately struggled to find monsters to hunt. The forests around Homst had been thoroughly picked clean, and it was only in the past few days that they’d been able to locate prey with any reliability. The slowdown had come with no small amount of stress, and he’d found himself checking the timer with more and more frequency.

  He took a deep breath and forced himself to refocus. Below, nestled among the cliffs, he could detect a faint hint of motion. [Arcane Eyes] helped him pick up the scant traces of mana, and he completed his count before climbing down the hill and back among the trees.

  “I count at least nine,” he thought at Siel, getting a rough impression of her location through his tafla.

  “I spotted eleven, but there could be more in the caves,” she replied, using her hidden vantage at the top of the cliff.

  “What do you think, is it worth it? I don't like how separated we’ll be. If something happens, you'll be on your own.”

  “You worry like my grandfather. I'll be fine. One of us should be on the high ground, and it should be me. Once you and Mjolna get them riled up, it will be like shooting spine-eels in a magma tube.”

  Sam paused and pursed his lip, surprised he actually got the gist of one of Siel’s many, many idioms. As the weeks went on, she’d begun using more of them, and it felt as though [Child of Babel] just gave up half the time.

  “Alright. Is Molly in position?”

  “She is, just give the word.”

  Sam nodded to himself and did a final check on his weapons. He discovered that his [Spear of the Primordial Dawn] had a self-repair feature, which was apparently common with most [Relic] weapons. As long as he was channelling mana into it out of combat, it would slowly repair minor damage. Catastrophic failure would still require the intervention of a Master Craftsman, but he’d yet to discover a monster that could do little more than scratch the ancient iron.

  His finger rubbed up against the indentation where a [Divine Core] could be slotted, and he hoped that his research had paid off. Arther had confirmed that the antler from the [Elgror Mauler] had synergy with [Hel’s Heart], meaning that all that remained was to find a catalyst to bind them together.

  He’d poured through the pages of the book on Elysian monsters, and had discovered one that he thought might be a match. He and Siel had spent the past week angling their way north, pushing farther up the Spire’s jagged slopes in search of it.

  The quality of the landscape had changed perceptibly from the temperate plains of the eastern cardinal. The pine forests had shifted, giving way to thick patches of spruce and fir. Cold winds rustled the branches, and even the birds' cries were different, wilder, and more haunting.

  He could make out stretches of harsh tundra off in the distance, and it made him grateful that he hadn't been dropped onto one of the northern slopes. He’d seen some unlucky humans among the horde of Dremin during the opening ceremony. He just hoped they were used to the cold.

  Trees pressed in on all sides as he wove his way between the trunks towards the entrance to the gorge. The howl of wind thrummed around him, a melancholic drone that felt appropriate for the frigid north. The bottom of the gorge was shrouded in darkness, but he could make out the dull sheen of ice on the dark granite.

  “I’m going in,” he thought at Siel, getting an affirmative sentiment in response.

  “Be careful,” she replied, words tense through their mental connection.

  “Careful of what? I’m just out taking an afternoon stroll.”

  She dropped the connection, and he chuckled to himself as he passed through the opening, breath catching in his throat. The temperature had dropped at least ten degrees in the past minute, and his breath hung in front of him in a cloud. His enhanced body should have easily dealt with the cold, but he found himself shivering despite the thick cloak.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Out of habit, he checked his HUD and confirmed that [Apostate] was active. It was joined by a new addition, as [Deific Resilience] hummed to life beside it. From what he could gather, it was functionally a weaker version of his title. The decision to purchase it had been fairly contentious, but he rationalized it given how pivotal [Apostate] was. More resistance never hurt, and if he could start levelling it early, he might reach a point where he could shrug off spells that would be fatal to almost anyone else.

  The two chugged along, further strengthened by his newfound [Prototype Cor]. The skill had been costly, the single biggest purchase he’d made so far, but the results had been more than he could have hoped for. It had also been more painful than he could have imagined.

  He shivered again, this time not from the cold. The memory of the evening spent in the bathhouse was still far too clear for comfort. It turned out that the cor was, in fact, a physical organ that had been grown next to his heart. It created a tangible bridge between the physical and the divine–but not without a cost.

  Like a real organ, it could be damaged, so he needed to be aware of that when defending. Fortunately, it was in an area that he already protected quite heavily. Even with his enhanced constitution and [Battle Healing], he wasn’t confident he could take a stab through the heart.

  He summoned a lit torch from his inventory and continued further into the gorge, the walls rising hundreds of feet above him. For a moment, he was transported back to a similar ravine, only the grey stone was replaced with volcanic glass. He tensed, recalling the sensation of the sword biting into his neck. The vision Zetos had given him still lingered in the back of his consciousness, the woman’s defiance smouldering like his outstretched torch.

  He gritted his teeth and pressed onwards, being sure to make as much noise as he could. Small stones clattered beneath his armoured boots as he trekked deeper into the dark. The farther in he got, the worse his visibility became, and he found himself relying almost entirely on [Arcane Eyes]. The swirling patterns of mana that inundated the canyon spiralled around him, and it was easy to determine their source.

  Birds. Nearly a dozen [Frost Rocs] perched on the cliff walls above him, watching him with keen eyes. He did his best to maintain the impression that he hadn’t spotted them, but what Warrior would be stupid enough to walk into what was so obviously a monster’s den?

  His ears pricked at the distant sound of hoofbeats. The clopping echoed off the cold stone, and above, the Rocs began to twitch, beaks snapping as they turned to take stock of the new intruder.

  To her credit, Molly was playing her part to perfection. The War Boar charged down the center of the ravine, completely oblivious to her surroundings. Her newly forged armour shone in the darkness, gleaming with red and yellow sparks in the dim light of the torch.

  The Rocs finally had enough and took flight with a chorus of piercing cries. The sound of their wings was like the crashing of waves as they dove down towards the ‘unsuspecting’ Warriors. Sam laughed as he flung his torch into the air and summoned his shield.

  A torrent of cold crashed into him, and in response, his [Prototype Cor]roared to life. The organ layered a subtle harmonic beneath his heartbeat, and the awareness of his [Mana Network] sprang into focus. All of his passive skills kicked into overdrive, and he leapt forward, dodging a barrage of ice.

  The sky overhead burst into a flurry of snow and sleet as the sudden temperature drop flash-froze the water right out of the air. What had been a clear, bright day became a blizzard in the blink of an eye.

  Sam was pretty sure he’d come to the right place.

  Molly continued her [Reckless Charge], summarily ignoring the rocs as they bounced off her thick armour. Sam took advantage of the chaos, utilizing the reach of his spear to skewer a roc mid-flight. He dismissed the spear as the bird fell, swapping to his [Runic Hammer] at the speed of thought, dispatching the beast with a blow to the base of the skull. His spear was back in his hand before his body even registered the change as he pivoted and stabbed another roc through the mouth, grinning as the serrated point blossomed out the back of its skull.

  The twang of a bowstring could barely be heard over the raucous din, and he would have missed it if he hadn’t explicitly been listening for it. The twang was a steady rhythm, and three rocs fell before they even realized there was a third attacker.

  In under a minute, the party had dispatched half the monsters, and what had started as a supposed ambush was quickly descending into a rout. Predatory cries dissolved into shrieks of panic as the thick vines sprang from the cavern walls, entangling wings and beaks and claws.

  Sam stopped for a moment to take in the scene, a small welling of pride ballooning in his chest. He took a second to check his tafla, and he cocked his head as he read the previous fight description.

  [Combat - Frost Roc Fledgling - Iron - Uncommon - Acolyte of Demetra]

  Spira: 250

  Fresh from the nest of their glacial abodes, Frost Roc Fledglings are among the weakest of the Elemental Rocs. Their limited control of their element makes them easier targets for larger prey.

  Sam glanced down at the corpse before him, brow furrowing as he took in its nearly 20-foot wingspan.

  Wait, these are the fledglings…then where are the adults?

  On cue, an earsplitting cry rang out above the gorge. Sam looked up, blinking as what little he could see of the sun was blotted out by a set of enormous crystalline wings.

  His eyeballs froze in his skull, and only the constant cycling of [Apostate] kept them from shattering like glass. He managed to roll away as the area he was standing in exploded into a jagged field of ice. Shards ten feet long fell from the sky around him, forming a cage of sub-zero diamonds.

  A twisting howl joined in the chorus of bird cries, and he could barely make out the outline of a distorted shape as it clawed its way out of a cave in the side of the cliff.

  The thing resembled images he’d seen of biblically accurate angels; only this one was surrounded by a shimmering halo of pristine iridescent ice. If it had started its life as a bird, it no longer resembled one. Claws and talons burst from its body at odd angles, and it had far, far too many wings.

  Sam inspected it, not caring about stealth. He had a suspicion he wanted to confirm.

  [Frost Archon - Iron - Epic - Boss - Acolyte of Demetra]

  “Siel,” he thought, trying to keep the panic out of his internalized voice.

  “Sam! Are you alright?”

  He took a second before responding, using his hammer to break out of the ice cage before running towards where Molly was getting pinned down in an avalanche of snow.

  “Y’know, I’ve been better. Question for you. What are the chances of finding two Tier Bosses on a single Ring?”

  “Two?” she replied, voice frayed. “The chances are incredibly small. You’d have to be the unluckiest Warrior to grace the Spire in a millennium.”

  “Yeah…that checks out.”