Book 7, chapters 32, 33, 34 plus Art! (Patreon)

Chapter 32

“I agree. You need to destroy the bait shop,” Mordecai said. “And you need to do it now. They can just drop a nuke through that door and be done with it. They needed the mages taken out first for it to be effective, but now that plan has failed, they might try it anyway. The walls will be okay, but everyone inside the castle will be turned into mince. The fact they haven’t done it yet is probably because that orc  out there wants to take you on himself. Best to close off the door now while we still can.”

We’d jumped into the guild to grab supplies and discuss the saferoom issue. The enemy’s northern army was here, massing about a half kilometer from the edge of camp, close enough that we could see them all. There were so many of them, they filled the horizon. Orcs. Slimes. More Reavers. Mounted elves on zebras. Large, lanky creatures called basher trolls. Lots of gnolls.

And then there was the orc prince. He’d come in riding some giant creature that looked like a cross between a hippopotamus and a yak. He was decked out in glittering, opalescent armor covered with feathers. He marched in, surrounded by his honor guard, a group of heavily-armored and equally decked-out orcs. These guys weren’t carrying guns, but long polearms with crescent, moon-shaped blades at the end.

The orcs all wore flags on their backs like they were feudal Japanese warriors. The flags were black, vertical rectangles with a shimmering, silver orc skull in the center. It made it easy to distinguish the orc troopers from the others. The Bone Clan of the Skull Empire seemed to favor larger-sized mercenaries. There were quite a few of the Sai rhino guards in their midst, along with several of the Bactrian and Dromedarian camels, all armed with shoulder-mounted missiles. They also had a platoon of the tall basher trolls. Explosive experts, I knew. We’d have to watch those guys.

And while the orc team looked powerful, there weren’t that many of them compared to the others. There was only a thousand of them or so, at least as far as we could see, just a fraction of the Bone Clan’s strength. It appeared all of the Operatics were also out there, along with a healthy mix of everyone else. It was no wonder Florin had been forced to fall back. It was so many enemies, I couldn’t count. Tens of thousands. Significantly more than we had here with us, even with the backups all arriving by the moment.

“Well, we’re absolutely fucked, aren’t we?” Tipid had said from my side as we first gazed upon the group that gathered before us. The virtual sun was finally rising, causing the giant army to glint like a blade.

I grunted. “You know, you coming here was supposed to instill us with hope.”

The older, bald man grinned back at me and shrugged. “We just didn’t want you to be lonely, mate.”

Donut was examining the orc prince via her new Targeting skill which had just been added to her crown. She let out a surprised yelp.

“Carl, Carl, that’s not Prince Stalwart!”

“What?” I asked, reexamining the large orc from afar. He was bigger than I first thought, wasn’t he? “You’re not telling me that’s the Maestro? I thought because he’s driving Grull, he can’t play faction wars.”

“He can’t,” a new voice said, stepping forward. Baroness Victory, peering off into the distance. “Well I’ll be fucked raw with a Soother sausage. That’s him all right. My former brother-in-law. He must’ve come up from the 18th floor at the last minute. I wonder if he brought all his concubines with him?”

“Wait,” I said. “The king? That’s King Rust, Stalwart and Maestro’s dad? Are you shitting me?”

“He looks more like the Maestro than Stalwart,” Donut said. “Like a giant baby pictured through a Jersey Shore filter. And then turned into an orc. He’s all scowling and gross like he’s being forced to wear such ridiculous clothing. He’s covered in feathers, and he has big, gaudy rings on all his fingers. Where does he get off dressing like that?”

“That’s traditional orc battle parade regalia,” Tipid said.

“It doesn’t say he’s a co-warlord,” Donut said. “Just a war chief. Does that mean Prince Stalwart is still the warlord? That’s what it says in the interface.”

“Hmm,” Victory said. “His appearance was probably a very last-minute decision. It’s news to me. Rust hasn’t participated in Faction Wars in quite a long time.” She sounded taken aback, almost offended that she hadn’t known he was here. “Not since he was a prince himself. I wonder if he’s sober.”

Donut made a derisive noise. “Well, he looks like he stumbled drunk into a drag queen’s overflow closet. Though I do like that boa. I wonder if it’s magical. I could use a boa, though I wouldn’t want Tina to get jealous. That’s kinda her thing.”

“Do you have his stats yet?” I asked.

“Hold your panties, Carl. The Size-Up takes a minute. And that creature he’s riding is absolutely disgusting. Her name is Gonk. What kind of name is that? I bet she smells like the feed bowl at an illegal petting zoo. She’s something called a Swamp Yak. Okay. I got it. He’s level 78. His main weapon is a whip! My goodness, he knows a lot of spells. Like dozens and dozens. Most are level one but some are from level 11 to 15. How did he manage that? None of them look useful right now except all those shield spells. He has that same Protective Shell as you, but it’s level 15! And Tripper. And Puddle Jumper! What a copydog.”

“Don’t anybody tell Rosetta he’s here yet,” Tipid said. “I’ll tell her.” He paused, a strange look of worry on his face. “She has some history with him.”

“If he just got here when we did, how did he level so fast?” I asked.

“That’s easy,” Tipid said. “He likely has a ring of Divine Suffering for the levels and a necklace of Indelible Woe for the spells.”

“Indelible Woe?” I asked. “Is that like the tattoo thing Rosetta is trying to make us do?”

“Similar. Indelible Woe is in the same collection as the Divine Suffering ring, It trades out a random spell of your own for a spell of a target’s. If you kill the target, it’ll be one of their five highest-level spells. Like the Divine Suffering ring, it only works on crawlers. And people like me. It’s not all that useful unless you’re a complete psychopath with a bunch of spells you can afford to lose. The necklace was popular a long time ago, but they all agreed to stop using it because combatants were farming crawlers to power it up, and it was a little... messy.”

I felt my anger rise, and I pushed it back. “And the Divine Suffering ring is any better?”

He shook his head. “It’s a long story. But trust me, the necklace is worse. Much worse. Anyway. Rosetta’s tattoos will help you share skills and spells without actually killing anyone. It just needs to brew for a little longer.”

I sighed. We didn’t have longer. The army across the way was in the process of digging in and setting up their siege weapons. A secondary force, also from the north, consisting of their slow-moving armor equipment, was pushing their way in. They were currently delayed, engaged with Florin and the 101st Crocodiles. The 105th had also engaged but had to fall back after sustaining heavy losses. Last I heard, Florin had personally led a charge that took out one of their tanks, causing a traffic jam. The enemy had been forced to reroute into a minefield and lost two more vehicles along the way.

This enemy force in front of us now could attack at any moment, but most everyone suspected they would wait until their position was properly built and the armor arrived. We already had some trebuchets of our own dropping rocks on them, but their shields were keeping them mostly at bay.

Now, here in the guildhall common area, it was me, Donut, Louis, Rosetta, Tipid, Justice Light, Imani, Elle, and a handful of mercenaries. Tran was still on the southern front, and Colonel Boomer was outside, organizing the defense. Katia and Bautista were with Florin. Li Jun and Li Na remained in Shanty Town.

Victory was also in the room, silently observing.

Bomo and Sledge along with a few strippers were in the process of moving boxes of supplies from the various crafting rooms and out the door and into the castle while we still had the ability.

Donut sat on the counter with the guildhall Bopca, animatedly going back and forth about purchasable base upgrades. Rosetta was with her, but she had a look on her face that suggested she was about to throttle the cat. Tipid had told her about King Rust’s presence, but she hadn’t shown any outward reaction at all. She’d called Donut over and insisted we spend the last of our pooled money to defend the base.

I started moving in that direction to stop any fights before they started. I didn’t know what the argument was about, but I knew Rosetta had a short fuse, and she was probably internally dealing with a bunch of shit. Donut had that determined, smug look on her face that meant she was going to get her way, and if she didn’t, she wouldn’t shut up about it.

“What about the hangar?” Louis asked. “We just fixed it. If we close off the saferoom, won’t we lose access to it here at the castle?”

“Yeah, what about the hangar?” Samantha added. She was on the floor by Louis, wetly and loudly gnawing on his ankle, and he’d given up kicking her away.

“We can buy a standalone hangar access point and attach it to the castle,” Rosetta said, looking up from the terminal.

“Only five million gold,” Donut added. She did not sound thrilled about it. “And I can’t believe they’re making us pay for another anti-air gun after the last one blew up. We should be allowed to charge the other guys for damaging our base. Five million for that one, too!”

“This is a new gun, not a replacement,” Rosetta said.

Donut let out a harumph.

I found myself watching Donut and her reactions. She was undergoing several changes, and I was worried about her. She seemed to be simultaneously maturing and regressing at the same time, and I wasn’t sure I understood why. It was like she was rising to the occasion when it mattered, and she was letting it all out once the immediate danger passed. Outside, she was Warlord Donut. Serious. Well, serious for her. Determined. Flexible. But one on one, her stubbornness was growing. Her snippiness was ratcheted even higher than usual. If we survived these next few hours, I‘d have to sit down with her and talk about it.

We were having her buy a third, mobile anti-air gun since several of the spider guns were wrecked, and we had an armor slot available. This particular one could be turned 90 degrees and used to mow down the bad guys on the ground as well. She turned back to the bopca. “Now, about those banners. Do you think you can make that work? It has them on the menu, but how long before they’re printed? We need them now. And I need them to be wavy.”

“I can’t control the wind, Princess,” the bopca said.

“Donut,” Rosetta said. “Please. I can only be in the saferoom for a few more minutes before I am kicked out. We do not have time...”

“Carl says we need to make him angry and have him attack before his backup arrives, and this will most definitely accomplish that. Now, I don’t wish to pull rank, but I am the general, and you are the colonel. While I wasn’t in the Navy like Carl, I do know that means I am your boss and if I say it’s final, it’s final.”

“Donut,” I said. “Don’t be mean to the people who came to help us.”

“Don’t worry, Donut,” Elle said. “If you want your banner to wave in the wind, I can make that happen.”

“Thank you, Elle,” Donut said.

Behind us, a group of sluggalos complained loudly as they were ushered outside by some of the were castors. The majority of these guys were out in the field with the 101st and the 105th, but we had a small reserve group in the guildhall barracks, which they’d turned into some sort of slug clubhouse. Imani went in there earlier and immediately noped out. She said she didn’t want to talk about it.

Justice Light also had some of the bigger slugs on his team. In fact, he’d inquired about having himself infected with slugpox so he could make more, but Rosetta told us not to allow it. That we had to be careful with his requests because the skyfowl had a tendency to hyperfixate on his projects, and he’d end up killing himself in the process. So instead, we allowed him to pick a few of the higher-level slugs to accompany him. I didn’t know how any of those raving idiots would be of help, and I was kind of afraid to ask, but apparently the slugs were right at home in the tunnels beneath the castle. And they all loved Justice Light. The slugs had started calling him something really weird, and I wasn’t sure if I understood what it was. It sounded something like “Specialist Feathertrix.”

I hadn’t spent too much time speaking to Justice Light about things other than traps, but I knew both Tipid and Rosetta were especially protective of the author of the 8th edition of the cookbook. He’d had a tough time in the dungeon, and I’d read quite a bit about his thoughts after he’d killed an NPC. It had a major impact on him. But on top of all that, something especially horrific had happened to him during his indentureship as a shopkeeper, and it had changed him even further. It was during this incident when he’d lost his wing. I didn’t know the story, but I did know it had turned the somewhat morose but proud skyfowl into a quiet, strange, obsessive-compulsive creature. He had a few strange ticks, always moving his head, back and forth, like he was hearing things that weren’t really there. He muttered to himself a lot.

I turned my attention back to the problem at hand. I knew Mordecai and the others were right, but I hated the idea of losing a saferoom entrance. “There’s gotta be something we can do. Losing access will make the closest saferoom one of the ones in Shanty Town. There are a few out in the forested region, including the one at the Area 52 base, but that’s it. It’ll make it so it’s a half hour ride to get to base if we’re using a tracked vehicle. It’ll make everything more difficult.” I indicated the squat skyfowl standing quietly in the corner, muttering to himself. “Justice Light will lose access to my sapper’s table and the bomber’s studio. Rosetta will lose easy access to the alchemy table and Mordecai.”

“It’s okay,” the eagle said, inclining his head at me. His eyes rolled to meet mine, and I could feel his strange intensity. He stretched out his lone wing, like he was crackling a knuckle. “I already have everything I need.”

“Are you sure? You’re at my table a lot.”

“It’s safer and faster to use your table, but there’s nothing left I can’t do on my own.”

“We can collapse the front of the shack,” Tipid said. “That’ll turn it off, but we could still repair it and bring it back online in an emergency.”

“You’d have to guard it,” Mordecai said. “If it’s repairable, an enemy can splash a Fix potion on it, and we’re back to the beginning.”

“Wait, Fix?” Donut asked. “Are you telling me there’s a potion that fixes stuff? Then why did I have to buy more gun thingies!”

“Because the ingredients for the potion are rare and more expensive than most anything you’re trying to fix. I’m making one of the potions now, but it’s only to be used in an emergency.”

“Let’s do that,” I said. “That way we can keep the structure inside the castle, but we’ll keep a heavy guard on it all times. If we’ve gotten to the point where they’re able to fix it from this side, we’re already screwed. That reminds me, we took out all the gondii worms, but we don’t know if any of them learned any of our secrets or not.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Justice Light said. “I have contingencies heaped upon contingencies. Trust the process. Danger lives in what they can’t see.”

“Okay,” I said. “Hopefully we’ll never have to find out.”

Donut: ARE WE SURE WE TRUST THIS GUY? HE’S OBVIOUSLY UNSTABLE.

Carl: I trust him with my life.

Donut: OKAY. BUT YOU’RE TRUSTING HIM WITH MORE THAN THAT. IT’S WITH ALL OF OUR LIVES.

Carl: Hopefully it won’t get to that point.

Donut: AFTER ALL THIS BUILD-UP?

“I’m out of time,” Rosetta said, and she got up to leave the guild. She would need to get out there and kill someone if she wanted her blood bar refilled. I knew several crawlers were having this issue. Justice Light, who’d already risen to level 65, did not have to ever worry about it. He was getting partial experience and credit for almost all the traps out there.

Tipid had refilled his bar during that last fight. But I knew the few former crawlers we let into the guild that worked as support staff for the base were struggling. Luckily, the blood bar didn’t affect the dungeon-born mercs.

“Hey,” I called after Rosetta. “Get ready to close off the safe space. But send out a five-minute warning to everybody so they can grab stuff if they need it. And wait until we’re out, too. Donut, buy the hangar upgrade.”

Donut started to grumble. “We’re almost out of money, Carl.” She then gasped with delight as the bopca emerged from the back of his little area dragging several rolled up banners.

Colonel Boomer: Whatever you guys are jawing about, you best finish it up and get out here. King Rust is approaching by himself. I think he wants to talk.

Victory spoke at the same time. The orc’s eyes were flashing. “Rust is approaching. He’s asking for an official, registered parlay.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” I asked.

“You’ll both be protected from subterfuge and sneak attacks while you talk. You’ll be in protected bubbles as you go back and forth. No chat will be available during the meeting. You can’t attack him, and he can’t attack you. Don’t worry how it works. We’re the ones who cast the spell.”

“Great,” I muttered.

General Donut: IS HE MOUNTED ON THE YAK THING?

Colonel Boomer: Yes. He looks like quite the butterfly up there. It makes me want to punch him in the face.

General Donut: KIBBEN, WE NEED YOU. FAST. GET THE HOWDAH READY.

Chapter 33

Kibben, the grizzled, former stablemaster of the high elf castle grunted one last time as Donut positioned herself into the howdah—the ridiculously ornate, covered carriage thing mounted to the back of Simoom, the albino rhinoceros. Both the howdah and the rhino were actually owned by Ferdinand. He’d been riding the thing when we first met him on the sixth floor. He wanted the rhinoceros back, but since his castle was still underwater, we were keeping her in our own castle for now. She was stabled in the same room where Tina lived. Apparently, Tina and the rhino hadn’t gotten along at first, and Kibben had to work especially hard to keep them from mauling each other. But now, Tina seemed to treat the rhino like a pet. According to Kibben, the two were inseparable.

To me, Simoom the rhino seemed especially chill. She would have to be to put up with Ferdinand. According to Kibben, she was as gentle of a mount as they came. Like an old horse they used for first-time riders. Unlike most every other thing in the dungeon, she seemed like a genuine animal. No hints of extra intelligence like Mongo had.

And speaking of Mongo. He sat there, grunting and whining with displeasure at the sight of Donut climbing onto a different mount.

“Now, Mongo, you’ll be staying here while mommy goes out there riding this thing. No, quit whining. This is just so we have a mount the same size as the bad guy. It’s only for show. Pretend like mommy is acting in a movie and pretending someone else is her child. Goodness, Rend, why are you whining now, too? It’s only temporary. It doesn’t mean anything. Carl, tell your meatball to stop upsetting Mongo.”

I chinned at Rend and Mongo. “Kibben, will you keep these two occupied while we're out there?"

"At your service," the old high elf said, patting Rend on the head. “I got a bit of experience with belly achers.” He pulled some sort of treat out of his pocket, tossed it in the air, and it bounced off the top of Rend’s head. He giggled and went chasing after it.

I watched the round pet scurry off. “What’s the difference between a tummy acher and a belly acher?”

“No real difference,” he said. “They tend to call ‘em bellies when they get extra big, but it’s not written down anywhere or anything like that. I remember this fellow from his last incarnation, and even though he was on his first run, he was still pretty big. He’s a special one.” Rend returned, chewing the treat. Kibben patted him again, and Rend let out a purring noise.

“Come on, Donut,” I said. “Everybody is waiting.”

“You, rhinoceros,” Donut said. “Go. Go now.”

Simoom snorted and waved her tail. She did not move. Her white, armored shells made an almost ceramic-like sound as they scraped together.

“Carl, it’s not working. Why is she just standing there?”

Kibben chuckled. “Just push the horn forward if you want to go forward. Pull back to stop. It’s easy. If she gets spooked, she might get to trotting. Just pat her behind to get her to stop.”

“I will most certainly not be smacking the behind of this thing like some common racetrack jockey.”

“Not a smack. That’ll make her run faster. A gentle rub.”

“What? I’m supposed to stop the rampaging rhinoceros by giving it a butt massage?”

“Donut,” I said, frustration rising. “This was your idea.”

Donut did as she was instructed, and Simoom started clomping forward. “Goodness. This is just like one of Carl’s video games. Does she go faster? It’s like I moved from a Maserati to a dump truck.” She made a face. “She smells like a dump truck, too.”

“Come on, Princess,” I said, lowering the curtains on her howdah as we moved out of the castle to face the enemy army.

~

My head was a swivel as we slowly marched down the hill, still smoldering from our earlier fight. We clomped past all of our positions. We had multiple, fortified bunkers set up. They were made of some sort of composite concrete, different than the castle itself. Almost impenetrable. Most of the guns we looted were user locked, meaning we couldn’t use them without wasting one of our precious Cracker Jack scrolls. But the bigger guns had no such restrictions. We had them set up in the bunkers.

We also had the earthworks teams under our feet. While we hadn’t been prepared for the paratroopers or the attack from within our own base, the enemy right now was camping exactly where we’d anticipated. All around me, the posse was giving off an air of quiet determination, like we were waiting for them to make the first move. But in fact, all around me, everyone was working furiously.

I still wasn’t confident it would be enough. There were a lot of them out there. I just needed to delay as long as possible.

Donut was loudly complaining she could barely see through the fabric curtain.

Warlord update: Two Pieces of Armor, both owned by the Operatic Society have been captured and added to your inventory. Captured inventory does not count against your limit.

Carl: Good job, Florin!

We only had a single road leading out to the empty space between our position and the enemy’s. We had Tripper-resistant traps on the fields on either side of us. But King Rust had a level 15 in the Tripper spell, and that gave each trap a 90% chance to blow anyway if he cast it.

Florin: Good news bad news, Mate. We stopped the armor in its tracks. As you just saw, we even managed to capture two of their rolling boom boxes. As long as they got infantry support, they’re bloody ripper machines. Look like those British Mark V’s from the first world war, but with a top turret and a single anti-air tube, which was surprising to me. Warning Louis to steer clear of these things now. Super high tech on the inside. That’s the good news. The bad is, them guys you’re looking at most certainly know they lost the whole regiment and aren’t gonna want to wait to get sandwiched between you and the 101st. So they’re probably gonna make their move soon.

Carl: 10-4. I’m about to have a conversation with King Rust. Don’t know where the rest of the orcs are hiding.

Florin: Try to keep him talking as long as you can. We’re rolling out now. I have Katia and Bautista with what’s left of the 105th flanking your position so we can keep the east opened up. At the very least, they can keep open a corridor of retreat into Shanty Town if you get overrun. You be careful of those cunts, especially the ones with the banners. They are beasts. Keep your head down, and I’ll see you soon.

Carl: You too. Oh, and Florin?

Florin: Yeah, mate?

Carl: Are we having fun yet?

Florin: You just keep that castle safe, and I’ll give you my answer when we’re face-to-face.

King Rust stood by himself, mounted upon his swamp yak. The creature was much bigger than I originally thought. So was King Rust. He had the wide frame of his younger son, the Maestro. His glittering, feather-covered armor made him appear even bigger, like a colorful tidal wave, crashing upon the back of the hairy creature.

Still, the large orc seemed slumped over in the saddle. Tired. Old. Almost like he was injured and about to fall off.

A new form appeared, zapping into existence as we approached. The orcish adjutant. We hadn’t met this one yet. A grixist. The same type of creature as Huanxin Jinx, but taller and thinner. The six-eyed alien said something to Rust, and he gave an angry retort.

“Let me do the talking until it all breaks down,” I said.

“Are we still trying to entice him to attack early?” Donut’s voice sounded nervous as came it from the interior of the howdah. “The whole plan was to annoy him and upstage him so he’s embarrassed in front of his troops. I wouldn’t have ridden this disgusting thing if I knew we were going to change our plans.”

“He’s going to attack us no matter what we do,” I said. “But we need to buy time first. So I talk first, and then you. We want him as red-hot angry as we can make him. Angry people make mistakes.”

Donut muttered something under her breath I couldn’t hear.

I took a peek at the warlord chat. We had dozens of messages coming in by the second as everyone continued to prepare the fight.

General Tipid: Has anyone...

The message was cut off as a blue bubble formed around us. Victory appeared, walking alongside us like she’d been there the whole time.

“The parlay shield is up. Both you and Rust have independent shields, and once they touch, you’ll be able to talk. The shields will move with you two, so both of you stay close to each other. You will not be able to do physical or magical harm to each other. Saferoom rules apply inside of the bubble. Once you’ve concluded, the shields will disengage when you’re approximately 100 meters from each other.”

“Who’s that adjutant?” I asked.

“His Honorable Judge Deng Bao,” she said. “He’s an old, experienced adjutant. He’s always the adjutant for the previous year’s victor.”

I peered at the creature. There was something particularly unsettling about this type of alien. “Is he related to Huanxin Jinx?”

Huanxin was the heiress who was currently on the 12th floor, driving the goddess Eileithyia. The same goddess Katia worshipped. The same goddess who would choose Katia’s fate when she finally ate that orchid in her inventory. Currently, our only hope at getting both Donut and Katia off this damn floor.

Victory chuckled. “He’s a judge. He is impartial. He’s very good at his job, so his relations do not matter. But, no. He is not related to Huanxin. She does not have any living relatives as far as I’m aware other than her child clone. When he’s not doing this, Judge Deng sits on one of the highest courts in the galaxy.”

“So, he’s a lawyer, like you?”

“Yes. Not all judges were once lawyers, unfortunately. But I was, and so was he. He is older than me, but we went to the same school. He was a professor by the time I got there. He taught me almost everything I know about galactic taxation law.”

“What about Carl’s lawyer?” Donut asked from behind the curtain. “Quasar. Did he go to the same school as you, too?”

Victory let out a surprisingly pig-like snort. “I think not.”

Donut suddenly pulled the screen veil away.

“Carl, what’s wrong with the orc guy? Is he... is he crying?”

Chapter 34

I moved to send a quick message to Donut before I realized the no-chat-in-the-bubble rule also meant between me and her.

“Let me do the talking,” I repeated, whispering to Donut. “Don’t derail whatever he wants to say. Not yet.”

“He looks like he’s already derailed, Carl.”

King Rust, was indeed, crying. But there was something strange with his demeanor. I couldn’t tell if he was crying from rage, sorrow, or laughter. It was like he was experiencing all three emotions at once. He wasn’t just crying. He was angrily muttering to himself, saying things to his adjutant, and then putting his hands against his own face in an odd, woe-is-me gesture. As we watched, he looked up into the air and shook his giant fists. It was like a caricature of someone having some sort of psychotic episode.

I suddenly thought of Commander Stockade, the late leader of the Democratic Sortion. He’d been acting crazy like this before he’d killed himself, too. Was that it? Had this guy been hit with some sort of insanity debuff? That didn’t seem right.

“Is he always like this? What the actual fuck is wrong with him?” I muttered as we approached.

“Uh, I don’t know. That’s for you to find out. I guess,” Victory said. She bowed to the grixist adjutant. “Your honor.”

“Judge,” he replied, also bowing. “Let us take our leave of these two. I would like to converse with you.” He, too, seemed out of sorts. Shaken by something.

Victory nodded. “Good day, brother,” she said to King Rust, who didn’t respond. The two adjutants disappeared. They reappeared nearby, but outside the strange shield bubbles. Judge Deng produced a tablet and handed it to Victory. She started watching some video, but it was too far away to see what it was.

Simoom snorted and took a step forward and sniffed at Gonk, the larger swamp yak, who snorted in return.

“Well, well, well,” Donut began. She hadn’t put the veil back on the howdah. She’d positioned herself on the built in pillow like she was just lounging there “If you’re crying because you wish to surrender, I will hear your terms now. But I must warn you, we’ll have very specific demands. Carl here will require at least two of your, what are they called? Concubines? Yes, two of them, plus...”

“Stop,” Rust said, holding up a meaty hand. His voice was surprisingly gentle and tired. So much so, that Donut actually did stop. “Please, stop. We must speak.”

It was there, on the first finger, catching my eyes like they were drawn to it. A ring of Divine Suffering.

The large orc gave a very heavy sigh and looked up into the sky.

“I wish we were on the real surface. I can feel it there, this false ceiling. It’s oppressive. Worse than a dome.” He rubbed his eye while we waited for him to speak.

After a long pause, he said, “Do you have any children, human? Or did you?”

I swallowed. What was this?

“No,” I said tentatively.

Rust reached down and gave Gonk the yak a warm pat. “I am jealous of you. I have three, and all three are idiots.”

I grunted. “I don’t know one of them, but I can’t disagree with you regarding the other two.”

“That third, my daughter. She’s the one you need to worry about.” He paused again. Victory was now pacing back and forth, still watching the tablet. He, too, was watching Victory.

“She never liked me. Your adjutant. Right now, she’s watching the video my daughter just sent out on the open tunnel. Did they show it to you?”

This had to be some sort of trick, but I didn’t know what his angle was. His third daughter was named Princess Formidable. She sponsored Katia, and she’d been the one to gift Katia with the crossbow bolt meant to kill her own brother, the Maestro.

“They haven’t shown us anything,” I said.

He really was old, I was starting to see. I suddenly thought of my own father, sitting there in that bed, dying of cancer. In the end, my father had still been blind to what he was. But this guy... A chill washed over me. He knows he’s about to die. But why? How?

Rust shook his head. “There’s a saying, amongst the former crawlers. The ones who eventually go free. It’s something like, ‘Once you enter the dungeon, you will die there, even if you escape.’ I’ve always dismissed it as weak, unhonorable rubbish. But, deep down, I knew. I knew it was true. Not just for the people, but for us, as a society.”

This guy was so out of pocket, so out of character from what I was expecting, I just stood there, unable to think of a response. I exchanged a look with Donut, who’d stopped pretending to lounge on her saddle and now sat up, paying rapt attention.

Rust continued. “A few days ago, my lovely daughter, along with a detachment of Skull Empire marines, took control of one of my own cruisers. The crew thought they were following orders, and I wasn’t even aware they’d left orbit. This warship is now about five hours away from reaching the monitor station that’s currently in orbit around the second planet in this system. Formidable just sent out a message to the entire Syndicate. She is planning on taking that station, going in, and manually activating the system failsafe. When that happens, a reaction will take place in this system’s star, and we will all die.”

I thought about that for a moment, and I had the only reaction I could think of.

I laughed.

“You’re serious?”

The old orc straightened on his saddle. “I do not see the humor in this. And do not insult me, Carl. The Skull Empire has never engaged in subterfuge.”

I opened my mouth to refute that, but I held myself in check.

Through the wall of the bubble, Victory and Judge Deng were quietly talking. She’d dropped the tablet to the ground, and it remained there, video still playing. Victory was much bigger than the other adjutant. As I watched, he patted her on the waist, the movement strangely affectionate.

This is real, I thought. This isn’t some sort of trick. This is really happening. I fought the urge to laugh again.

“And you marched your army here to tell us this? Why?”

“I marched the horde here to end this farce once and for all. The message from my daughter just came in as we arrived.” He paused, shifting in his saddle. “There’s glory in dying in battle. And, you might not believe this. But I respect you, Carl. My sons do not see it, but you have bested them multiple times. You have a warrior’s heart. In another time, there would be honor to face you in battle and die. Instead of learning from their mistakes, you have succeeded in just making them more angry, and they act like petulant children. I came here to protect my family. And if we are to suffer further humiliations, at least he who casts the shadow will be me, and not my children, who have long lives in front of them.”

“Apparently not,” I said. “All three of them are here?” I laughed again. “Pity.”

He did not rise to the bait. He just looked sad. Utterly defeated. “That moment my wife was killed, I should have...” He trailed off.

“Is this some sort of weird trick?” Donut asked. “I don’t understand. Did you not buy your daughter a pony or something? Is that what this is? She’s having a temper tantrum? Why is she doing this? I had this whole thing planned to upset you, and now I can’t even do it. I even had banners made making fun of the Maestro. This is most inconvenient.”

Rust ignored her. “Once this system goes down, the ramifications across the entire galaxy will be immediate and overwhelming. My systems will devolve into chaos. The Dream will go dark for some time. Billions, perhaps trillions, will go without food. The Reavers will be fine and will likely take advantage of the sudden power vacuum. War will break out across the galaxy. It will be the single, most devastating disaster in all of history. This is bigger than you, me, and everyone here.”

And this affects us how? was my immediate reaction, but I choked it back. I wanted to keep him talking. So instead, I asked, “Then why is she doing it?”

“She feels she’s protecting the galaxy from an even worse fate. She believes the current system AI’s insanity is contagious and will spread to the center system if it’s not dealt with. And if that happens, our very way of life will collapse in on itself. It would be a mass extinction event.”

“Will it?” I asked. “Will it infect the center system?”

He grunted. “There’s no proof anything like that can happen. It would be like a gnat taking down one of my corvettes. It’s a crackpot theory that originated from those Nebular idiots. All the analysts say it’s not even remotely possible. But she is convinced. Of all of them, she’s the most like her mother. Both the most stubborn and the most superstitious.”

“I’m confused,” Donut said. “Does this mean we’re still going to kill each other or not?”

The orc’s watery eyes focused on Donut like he was seeing her for the first time.

“If you want us to spend our last few hours killing each other, I will happily oblige. If I was younger, it wouldn’t be a question. We have you. It will hurt, but we have you. And even if you managed to beat us back today, to hold out until the next phase, you still wouldn’t have won. Stalwart has done well, building this army despite the obstacles this season. We have managed to accumulate the largest collection of war mages ever assembled. We can kill you now with the help of the other factions, or we could’ve waited until later and done it on our own. You would’ve been annihilated, and it would not have been pretty. And if not us, that lunatic Architect Houston has been using this season’s rules to... open up his full arsenal.” He sighed, almost wistfully, and he met my eyes. “I can admit this now. He’s the only living creature in this universe I fear. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Death looms for us all.”

“Why are you here? Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

He reached down and patted Gonk the yak again. “It likely won’t make a difference, but I want you to send my daughter a message. I want you to ask her to stop on behalf of the people of Earth. She is not listening to me. I doubt she will listen to you, but if you speak for your people, then maybe... Maybe she will pause. She’s always had a soft heart for the seeds.”

The seeds? That was a new term to me.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Donut said. “So, you’re telling me there’s just some space station thingy floating in orbit around... what’s the second planet, Carl?”

“Venus,” I said.

“Flying around Venus, and anyone can just scoot onto it, press a button, and the solar system blows up? Just like that? How is that even possible? Carl had better security on his bank account. Though, if we’re being fair, Miss Beatrice could still get into it.”

“The security on the satellite is impenetrable. The satellite itself has a failsafe that will cause it to explode should anyone unauthorized attempt to break into its systems.”

I felt my eyebrow raise. “Okay... So, what are we missing?”

“The Skull Empire manufactures the satellites. We build backdoors into everything we manufacture so they can’t be used against us. This was a secret until my daughter announced it to the whole galaxy. I’m afraid that stock certificate you own, Carl, is losing significant value by the moment.”

I laughed again. This was too much. They’re destroying themselves. They don’t need me to lift a finger.

I pulled up my interface. The game interface didn’t work correctly in the bubble, but my Valtay implants still worked fine. I moved to the third menu, which was a 3D map of the solar system with a red overlay.

“Why doesn’t the AI stop her?” I asked. “Doesn’t it have the system in quarantine or whatever?”

“She is out of zone. The AI controls the tunnel gate because the controller must be in orbit of the game planet. The security station in orbit around the second planet is deliberately staged well out of the system’s control.” He shook his head. “They should have kept the old-style gates active anyway. The AI couldn’t control those. The mudskippers would never have gone bankrupt.”

I didn’t understand all of what he said, but I understood the important part.

For a moment, I closed my eyes. I thought back to that moment in the gas station on Christmas morning, when I sat there all alone except for that poor, oblivious dog. His name had been Lightning Lou.

I couldn’t let myself get caught up in the moment. I had to play this straight. I knew this was going to happen, but it happening now was unexpected. If there was a chance we could avoid this fight, I had to see this through.

I reached over and pat the side of Simoom. “So, let me get this straight. You want me to talk your daughter into not killing all of us so you can then kill us yourself? Is that right?”

“You have millions upon millions of citizens, including children, on the surface of your planet, human. If she backs off, I can’t stop what happens next down here.” He pointed up. “But they will be safe.”

“I gotta tell you,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “I don’t really speak for humanity, ya know? But even if I did, the idea of sacrificing the rest of my people in exchange for the deaths of all of you lot, plus causing war across the galaxy? It doesn’t seem like a bad tradeoff for me. Does that also mean there won’t be any more crawls?”

“There will always be crawls. We might miss a season or two while the galaxy settles, but there will always be crawls. There is nothing anybody can do to stop that.”

I nodded. “Then what, exactly, do we get out of helping you?”

~

King Rust did not say anything when we were done negotiating. He turned, and he walked away.

The deal was simple and straightforward. He would tell the armies to withdraw back toward their line. We wouldn’t harass their retreat. It would free up all the remaining leaders to spend the next few hours preparing messages for their passing.

Donut jumped from the howdah to my shoulder. Simoom continued to walk alongside us.

“Carl,” Donut said after a moment, a strange, dreamy tone to her voice. “Was he telling the truth?”

“I think he was.”

“Does that mean we’re all about to die? That all of this was for nothing?” She gasped. “We gotta go back. Mongo is all alone!”

The protection bubble popped off. Victory and Judge Deng still stood together off to the side, still deep in conversation. I turned to watch King Rust make his way back toward his camp, his yak walking slowly. My mind reeled as dozens of missed messages flooded my feed.

Donut: ZEV IS IT TRUE?

Zev: I’m afraid so, Donut. She’ll be there in just over five hours. Half the ships in the system are chasing her. Nobody is going to catch her in time. The other half are now shooting at each other. It is pure chaos.

I reached up to pat Donut.

Carl: Don’t react. But no, the failsafe isn’t going to go off. We need to pretend like we don’t know this until he gets his army to withdraw. I’ll still make the plea to his daughter to stop, but I doubt it’s going to work. That orc lady is still going to hit the button to kill us all no matter what we do.

Donut: What? We aren’t going to blow up? How do you know that?

I knew it wasn’t going to work because I knew the failsafe was already deactivated. I knew the failsafe was deactivated because I was the one who had turned it off. But I couldn’t tell her that. Not now. Possibly not ever.

If you make this decision. Be sure. Be sure it’s your only option. This is more than just a failsafe. It’s the end of everything. If there’s time to do something else, don’t be so quick. So you must be absolutely certain.

I’d come so close that night. So close to setting it off. So instead, I tinkered with the interface and found a second option hidden deep in the menu. I’d permanently deactivated the failsafe instead of setting it off. It had been turned off since the last floor.

But there was more to this, and the realization was chilling. At the time, I hadn’t realized how significant it was, and now I had even more questions than I did before. I’d asked Rust why the AI didn’t intervene. That had always been my question, too. But he’d said it was because Venus was outside the influence of the system AI. That wasn’t true. Not according to the map in my interface. The AI’s sphere of influence was growing exponentially. It’d just captured Uranus.

Carl: Call it a hunch.

Donut: That’s a pretty big hunch, Carl.

Carl: Just play along. We need to make certain the army disperses, and then we can hit them from behind while they retreat. I’ll need to talk to Florin to get it ready.

I returned my gaze to King Rust. The large orc continued his slow plod back to his side, now flanked by a pair of massive orc guards. I was glad he’d come instead of his son. I still planned on killing the old orc, but he seemed so much more reasonable than his child. This last-minute reprieve was almost too good to be true.

...And that’s when Rosetta appeared, rising up out of the dirt like some fiery goddess of the underworld. She’d been wearing one of those tech-based invisibility cloaks as she launched from the ground. She had a whip of her own in her hand. In a movement so fast, she’d clearly been practicing it, she flipped in the air, landing on the back of the yak directly behind the king. She tossed the whip around the neck of the king, and she yanked.

The head flew from his body like a popped champagne cork.

The decapitated body of King Rust, the leader of one of the largest, most powerful corporate governments in the universe, slumped off the back of his swamp yak and landed in a heap in the dirt. The head thumped onto the ground several meters away.

Across the field, five full seconds of stunned silence passed. Nobody reacted, including Rust’s own guards. Then, the tens of thousands of enemy troops roared in indignation.

They charged.

~~~~~~~~~Hey, y'all. I hope everyone is doing well. Just a last minute FYI, I've been added to Toronto Comic Con and will be there in just under two weeks. Jeff Hays and I have a DCC-themed panel on Friday of the con. He doesn't know this yet, but I think I'm going to make him read the Mordecai reveal where we learn his form this floor. 

Thank you all for your continued support. Luciano, who does the covers for the regular books, is hard at work at the interior art of the kickstarter version of the book. Here's the spread right when you open the book: