The Nether Realm was a veritable maze of twisted corridors and impossible geometry. Passageways that seemed to stretch infinitely then suddenly contract. Stairs led upward only to somehow descend. He was greatly reminded of that movie, Labyrinth, only this was even more surreal.
Thankfully, Atlas seemed to know exactly where to go. At least, until they reached a courtyard with a black, leafless tree that Justin didn’t recognize. Atlas came to a stop, whirring in confusion.
Ashralok floated beside Justin, then drifted ahead, leaving a trail of amber flames behind. He tried to avoid looking at her too much. Besides a thin wrapping of flames, she was practically naked, though it was hard to tell if the body beneath was solid or composed of fire itself.
“The Nether Realm is notoriously difficult to navigate,” she said, her voice crackling with mock sympathy. She stretched dramatically, clearly enjoying her newfound freedom. “Passages change. A lot of unlucky creatures and even people have found their way here over the years. Most don’t ever get to leave.” She chuckled. “That said, I’m sure we can find the right gate.”
“We?” Justin asked.
“Of course,” Ashralok turned back to him, flicking sparks from her fingertips that sizzled at his feet. “It’s easier if we work together, isn’t it? I’m beyond most threats here, but there are things in the Nether Realm that would even give one like me pause.”
“Seriously? You’re Level 70. What could possibly threaten you?”
“Aww, are you scared?” she mocked, her flames twisting into what might have been a pout. “The Nether Realm has Vaults too, you know. And sometimes... you don’t always know when you’ve walked into one. Until it’s too late.”
“On Eyrth, nothing goes past Level 50. Are you saying it goes higher here?”
She rolled her eyes, flames spiraling in her eye sockets. “Of course it does. Eyrth is rather tame,” she said with disdain. “The Founders ensured it doesn’t get too difficult for its precious little denizens. Other worlds, though... and other planes like this one... such rules don’t exist. Danger can be... unpredictable.”
As if summoned by her words, the tree in the central courtyard suddenly came to life, a mournful face taking shape in its ghostly bark. Each of its limbs whipped, ferrying tendrils of dark magic.
Justin had time to note its information with his monocle, his eyes widening.
Level 42 Willow Revenant
Rank: Champion
Affinity: Death
Ashralok watched Justin curiously, flames dancing with amusement. “I could just let you die, you know. The Agreement doesn’t say I have to help you. And then your precious Sapphire Star and Prismatic Core will be mine!”
“Please don’t,” Justin said, a bitter taste in his mouth at having to ask for help. “Come on, Atlas. Retreat.”
One branch shot toward Justin, somehow elongating to bridge the impossible gap. He performed an acrobatic backflip through the use of his Gentleman’s Sidestep skill.
Ashralok sighed theatrically before approaching the Revenant. She easily tanked its attacks with her flame shield, which spread more amber flames among the tree’s limbs. It screeched in agony as Ashralok finished it with a powerful flame burst that sent a plume of fire into the Nether’s darkened sky. The tree disintegrated, fading into the surrounding magical energy of this realm.
“You’re welcome,” she sang before he could say anything.
Substantial loot remained where the Revenant fell: at least six class cores of varying colors, three golden crystals, and a platinum chest. Ashralok swiped up the items without hesitation, popped open the chest with a kick, and claimed a platinum dagger that immediately vanished. Apparently, she had some spell or ability that stored items without needing a pack, like Valdrik had demonstrated.
“Show off,” Justin grumbled, the irony of his situation not lost on him. Five minutes ago, he’d outwitted this goddess; now he needed her protection to survive.
“Really? That’s the thanks I get?” She flicked another spark at him, which curved harmlessly around due to the Agreement. “Mortals. No manners these days.”
He frowned. “So, you made kind of a point earlier. Why not let that tree thing kill me?”
She blinked innocently. “Because you might be useful to me.”
“More so than a Prismatic Core? I doubt it.”
“Hmm. You just may have a point there. Maybe I’ll let you die next time?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Understandable. Let’s just say I have my reasons. Let’s put it that way.”
Justin supposed he would have to accept that, at least for now. He watched her, calculating his options. He was certain Atlas had led them in the right direction, but as Ashralok had said, everything had changed. If he had encountered that Revenant on his own, he would almost certainly be dead.
As much as it chafed his pride, he needed her.
She watched him curiously, flames forming a smirk. She was going to make him beg, wasn’t she?
“Well, maybe you’re right,” Justin admitted. “It’s easier to work together.”
She gave an understanding smile, though the flames composing it twisted smugly. “See, I’m not unreasonable, Justin Talemaker.”
He frowned. “How do you know my name, anyway?”
She shrugged, flames rippling across her shoulders. “All gods have an Ascendant Scrying boon. It allows us to see anyone’s name, level, affinity, class, and status effects. Some other stuff, too.” She flicked her wrist dismissively. “You don’t unlock that until Level 50. Just one of the many perks of being me.”
“Level 50,” Justin said. “Damn. So, you know about the Founders, too?”
“I do,” she said, her flames briefly flaring. “How could I not? Those meddlers have their hands in everything. Even turning the gods on each other.” She leaned closer, her heat washing over him without burning. “You seem to know something of their methods, despite their being dead for thousands of years.” Her gaze drifted toward another corridor. “Shall we continue exploring? Or would you rather stand here until something else tries to eat you?”
Atlas gave a tentative beep. Justin placed a gloved hand on him. Yes, he didn’t like this either, but she couldn’t physically harm him. Lead him into a trap, or leave him at the mercy of a ridiculously high-level enemy? Probably. But at least she couldn’t directly harm him.
But if he tried to go it on his own, she was just going to follow him anyway. And she could have let him die to that revenant easily.
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Clearly, she had some use for him left, if only simple curiosity. He just hadn’t expected a Level 70 Fire Goddess to have the maturity of a preteen Mean Girl.
He sighed. “Let’s keep it moving.”
“Smart move.”
This time, they sort of walked side by side, but Justin tried to keep his distance. Ashralok noticed, drifting closer from time to time just to watch him step away. He kept his face composed.
“So, why did Vorthak and these Seven Founders want to lock you up, anyway?” Justin asked. “You said something about how you wanted to raise the Fyrspawn’s status or something? Why would Vorthak be against that?”
“It’s not that he’s against it,” Ashralok explained, twirling a strand of flame hair. “It’s more that he was willing to do anything to bring me down.”
“Again… why?”
Her flames briefly lit in agitation. “Because he’s a liar and a cheater. Does it need to be any more complicated than that? Not everyone has some grand, noble reason for being terrible.”
“It’s just… strange. Back on Solanis, they call you the Bride of Vorthak. They see it as an honor.”
“It used to be,” she said, her voice softening momentarily before hardening again. “I was his first wife, yes. Still am. What has been forged in the Hearth of the World cannot be undone. But his proclivities didn’t just turn me against him. They were an absolute disaster.”
Justin arched an eyebrow. “Really? How so?”
She gestured expansively, sending sparks floating through the air. “He was trying to create legions of demon spawn to add to Morvath’s armies. Dragons, sphinxes, fire basilisks, molten harpies, flame behemoths, and those hideous flame hydras. I was one of the few Fire Affinity beings trying to stop him. That, and my particular sect of the Fyrspawn. It’s good to know they have survived this long. The state of the world must be a disaster.”
Her flames dimmed slightly. “But he managed to convince the Seven Founders that I was the problem. So, they combined forces and…” she flicked her fingers, “poof. Prison for a few millennia. No trial, no defense, no chance to explain. Just men making decisions. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.”
“I see,” Justin said, though he was certain he was missing important pieces of the story. It was easy to tell that she was tired of talking about it.
“Let’s just focus on getting out of here in one piece,” Ashralok said, her tone suddenly bored. “I’ve got millennia of revenge to plan, and this chat is just delaying it.”
“And how can we manage to do that if the passages are changing?”
“We’ll find the way out,” she insisted with a dramatic eye roll. “Can’t be that difficult. Even for someone like you.”
“Alrighty, then.”
At that moment, a trio of violet-skinned goblins rounded an intersection. Or at least, what Justin supposed to be goblins. Each was a Level 20 common, two of which were classed as warrior, the third as a wizard.
“Your turn,” Ashralok said, floating back and crossing her arms. “I did the last one. Sharing is caring!”
“Can we at least be in a party? Share experience?”
She barked a laugh, flames sputtering from her mouth, actually incinerating the lead goblin as the other two leaped back, horrified and screeching.
“Oops,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “I took care of one for you. I think you and your little tin friend can handle the others.”
Justin adjusted his top hat. “Let’s take care of business, Atlas.”
Justin approached, unleashing a Drake’s Breath to soften up the two that were left. Atlas charged in, focusing on the mage, easily tanking a fireball. Justin brought down the warrior with a series of impeccably timed dodges, followed by a Poison Barb.
“You call that rusty blade a weapon? My grandmother’s knitting needles were sharper! And speaking of family, what swamp bottom did your ancestors crawl out of? Your lineage is so twisted, your family tree must look like a pretzel made by a drunk baker with six thumbs!”
The goblin staggered under the verbal assault, its defenses crumbling just in time for Justin to deliver A Proper Sendoff, batting it over the wall on their right.
[You have gained 300 experience points. Your experience stands at 11,875/22,000.]
[A Proper Sendoff has been refreshed.]
Justin nodded in satisfaction. This would be a great place to grind, assuming the Level 42 revenants were kept at a minimum.
“Not bad,” Ashralok admitted, slow-clapping with flames sparking between her palms. “Damage-amplifying skills are actually quite rare. The Creator must love you.”
“Really? I always figured the opposite, given the... situations I keep finding myself in.”
“No, make no mistake. You’re the Creator’s Golden Boy.” She poked him with a fiery finger that curved around him due to the Agreement. “That would be a great nickname for you. And a Prismatic Core to boot? What’s the story there?”
Justin shrugged. “Found it in the woods.”
Her fires flickered with interest. “Found in the woods, huh? No high-level Vault or anything? Just strolling along and—oops!—tripped over a flaming Prismatic Core?”
“It worked out a little differently, but yes, that’s the gist.”
“Golden Boy indeed,” she said, floating upside down to look him in the face. “The Creator’s pet. They say he does that sometimes. Plays favorites. I wouldn’t know. I’ve had to work for everything in my life. I should be jealous, but it’s almost sad how much hand-holding you need.”
Justin blew a raspberry. “You’re kind of a brat, huh? I kind of get why I got experience dealing with you.”
“Excuse me? I am an Ascendant Goddess of the Amber Flame. I have lived for eons. I have witnessed the rise and fall of—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Justin waved dismissively. “A bratty goddess is still a brat. And the best part?” He leaned forward, within a couple of feet of her face, leering down at him. “There’s not a damn thing you can do about it!”
For a moment, her flames burned white-hot with fury, but they circled harmlessly around him.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.
“I think I’m starting to like you, Golden Boy,” she admitted. “Most mortals are so boring. Always groveling or screaming. It’s refreshing to meet one with a spine, Gentleman’s Agreement or not.”
“Don’t get too attached,” Justin said. “I still plan on ditching you at the first opportunity.”
“Good luck with that,” she replied. “I’m not very good at letting go. In the meantime, shall we see what other treasures this realm has to offer? Since we’re stuck together anyway?”
Justin sent out an invite to join his party, mostly as a lark. Of course, it was rejected.
“Me, join with you?” she asked, placing a flaming hand over where her heart would be. “You’re getting a bit too eager. And eager is boring.”
“Come on,” Justin said. “Let’s find this gate. Before I blow my brains out.”
“Sure thing, Golden Boy.”
He was about to get in his own retort when a strange sound emanated down the corridor. The stones trembled beneath his feet, and the sound only grew louder, like hundreds of voices joined as one.
And then, they appeared. A veritable horde of purple-skinned goblins, all heading their way. Probably looking to avenge their fallen comrades. Mixed among them were a few larger ones, about human-sized. Justin’s monocle focused on them, registering them as “hobgoblins.”
“Can you deal with that?” Justin asked.
“I could,” Ashralok said. “But I’m curious to see how far the Creator’s favor will carry you.”
A couple of fireballs were lobbed down the corridor, but Ashralok was nice enough to absorb them.
Atlas chirped in dismay, lowering his struts.
Justin got the message, climbing on and holding on for dear life as Atlas executed a Drill Charge, not to attack the horde, but to gain distance. A quick glance over Justin’s shoulder revealed Ashralok following behind, easily keeping pace. Some fireballs hit her, but did no damage. Some of the goblins were actually peeling away from the charge, likely afraid to face her, but the vast majority kept up the chase.
They raced through twisted passages that seemed to bend reality itself, the howling of the goblin horde echoing behind them. Atlas’s drills glowed with exertion, and Justin could feel the heat building in the construct’s mechanisms. This wasn’t sustainable for long. Eventually, they would have to make a stand or find an exit, and the fast pace would quickly drain Atlas’s ether reserves.
As they rounded another corner, Justin spotted a familiar shimmer in the air. A gateway, not unlike the one that had brought them here. Its obsidian frame pulsed with dark energy, but there was something different about it. The swirling portal within wasn’t black as before, but a deep green.
“That’s not the way back to Solanis,” Ashralok called out, her flames dancing with amusement. “That leads somewhere far more... interesting.”
“And I don’t suppose you will tell me where it goes?”
“No.”
Atlas skidded to a halt before the portal, drills spinning anxiously.
Justin weighed his options. Behind them: certain death by goblin horde. Ahead: an unknown destination, possibly worse than the Nether Realm itself. Beside him: an ancient goddess who seemed to find his predicament endlessly entertaining.
“So, are you really not going to tell me what’s in there? You’re just trying to torture me at this point, aren’t you?”
Ashralok floated closer, her flames reflecting in the emerald surface of the portal. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I’ll tell you this much, though. It’s better than being torn apart by goblins.”
The first of the horde appeared at the far end of the corridor, weapons raised.
Justin exchanged a glance with Atlas, who gave a reluctant chirp.
“Fine,” he muttered, adjusting his top hat. “Into this portal thing, I guess.”
He had Sapphire Aegis. It would protect him for ten seconds.
But he already saw the folly of this. If it was dangerous enough to have to retreat, then he would be forced back here without the benefit of his skill. If it was too dangerous beyond, he was dead, anyway.
Could he knock out two hundred plus goblins? Probably not.
But he had ten seconds of immunity here just as he did there. Might as well make use of it here.
“Umm…Golden Boy? You’re on the clock here.”
The goblin horde surged forward. A few fireballs from the goblin wizards screamed his way, streaking past his Vorthak’s Flame harmlessly.
But for this, Vorthak’s Flame would do no good. He needed something more.
Adjusting his top hat and twirling his cane, he nodded.
“Showtime.”