After everyone had finished up at the crafting building, the group returned to finish their quest, and finally ended up on the same ‘Reach Level 10’ quest that Bob was on.

FarShot and ShadowRunner then had to log off, citing a need to go to dinner. Buzz followed, wanting to be ready in time for the show at his local tavern.

“Hmm, well, we could handle more requests, or we can explore the city. What do you say, Chunk?” Bob asked.

“Chunk want explore. Chunk like pretty city.” While neither option actually appealed to her at a base level, since she was accompanying His Mercilessness, she would prefer the one that would allow her to get to know the Most Supreme a bit more. She just wished she wasn’t stuck impersonating a dimwit ogre.

She followed Bob through the streets as they wound their way toward a tall cluster of buildings that towered over their surroundings. Their sides reflected the red sky of the early evening. She could see the avarice in Bob’s eyes as he gazed at their glittering facades.

“So, did you even try to give the real Chunk the mission?”

She froze. She hadn’t been expecting this so soon. Though, she chided herself, I should know better to underestimate the Devourer of Knowledge. “This one did, Your Highest Magnificence. However, it seems he misrepresented his ability to read in his personnel file. The poor thing practically begged this one to take his place when he understood that he would be unable to fulfill his orders. May this one ask what gave it away?”

“When you are in here, you will only address me as Bob. And drop that ‘this one’ nonsense. Always act the part when logged in. The first hint was the shotgun. Ogres are notorious for their cultural disdain of ranged weapons. Their large hands and poor fine motor control make them terrible shots, and even worse craftsmen. You went right up to that workbench without hesitation. Traditionally, ogres have seen crafting as a job for slaves, something they would never engage in. Even now, I have no ogres in my employ that willingly engage in craft-work. They don’t generally like any jobs that doesn’t involve smashing things.”

“Yes, Your… Bob. May I ask then, are any ogres able to read?”

“Potential ogre magi are taught to read. They’re revered in ogre culture as their spells are known for being capable of smashing many things at once. Really, the only reason I know so much about their culture is because their spell books are as much diary and history as arcane theory. Also, there was a very rare ogre author some millennia back who wrote a fascinating treatise called ‘How Much Smash is Too Much Smash? No Such Thing.’ It was a surprisingly coherent documentation of ogre culture, with a deep undercurrent of humor.”

She was stunned by the deluge of information. She prided herself on her deep knowledge of cultural norms that allowed her to blend seamlessly with her targets, but this was just overwhelming. True, she had only done a bit of light research into ogre culture and written them off as hopelessly stupid, which led her to make critical mistakes that He had instantly picked up on. Still, to hold such broad knowledge of the customs and history of a minor race like ogres? She fought down the urge to prostrate herself on the sidewalk and imitate Chunk’s display of obeisance to her.

“Well, I digress, ogres have a very static culture, unlike most of the mortal races. That is why I rely on your kind. I had half expected both of my picks to be replaced, but Buzz seems to be the genuine article. He’s adapting admirably, don’t you think?”

“Yes.”

“Remember, stay in character.”

“Chunk agree. Chunk not mess up again.”

“Good.”

“Oh my, now look at that tower. Truly magnificent! The way it shines in the dying sun like blood-stained gold. Sights like these have me questioning my decision to remain underground for all these millennia. Tell me, is the surface anything like this? I have not bothered looking in so very long.”

“Chunk not see anything like this. Chunk see buildings much shorter and wider. Chunk never seen anything as shiny.” She struggled to convey the information in a coherent way that was still in line with Chunk’s limited vocabulary.

Bob nodded. “I have my suspicions about this place. I suppose I will have to turn my attention to the outside world tonight. After we log off, report to me with your boss.”

Chunk’s face visibly paled. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what sort of punishments were in store for her. Although she could envision the smugness on one of Shifty’s borrowed faces as she was put in her place. She let out a meek “Chunk obey.”

As Kragathor logged out, he felt the momentary weirdness of going from a tiny and frail human body to his gloriously massive form. He set the Virmo crystal aside and shifted over to his sixth most favorite pile of gold, which overlooked a small, shimmering lake of quicksilver.

While the scrying panes were perfectly adequate for overseeing his dungeon, they lacked the adaptability and sheer power of a scrying pool, and there was no scrying pool with greater flexibility or power than the one which now lay before him. It had gone unused for over a thousand years, but he could not bring himself to get rid of it, for it was an exquisite work of art in its own right. The mirrored surface rippled as Kragathor touched the circle of runes inscribed in platinum and copper around the small silvery sea. Abruptly, the reflection disappeared, displaying a large blue and green orb, obscured by patches of wispy white.

Following his unspoken command, the point of view shifted in an instant, displaying a sprawling city far below, with a large cluster of buildings on its outskirts surrounded by an overly orderly forest. As he had expected, the mortal city below was nothing like the grandeur of that city in the world of Ciro. The buildings were more orderly than he’d expected, and most of the construction appeared to be of stone. Only the buildings outside of the city’s walls were made of wood, and many of these were the shoddy construction that he had long ago associated with mortal works. Outside the ring of slums was the unusually orderly forest, with the trees seemingly planted according to a grid pattern. The view shifted once more to focus on the cluster of buildings at the center of this forest.

Now this is curious, he thought. Though the buildings were low and sprawling, their exteriors mimicked those tall and shiny towers of the otherworld. Windows of tinted glass contrasted with panels of brushed steel, giving the exterior of the buildings a sleek and otherworldly appearance. What few stone structures there were seemed to be cast from a light gray stone, as opposed to being made of cut blocks.

Kragathor followed the most powerful emanations of magic to the largest building at the center of this compound. As he briefly examined the building, he noted runes to ward against divination inscribed on the backside of each of the thin steel plates that lined the building’s exterior. It was laughably easy for him to bypass these without triggering their built-in alarm function.

The view in the scrying pool split into multiple perspectives that began to independently roam through the building. Kragathor mentally cataloged everything they revealed as they covered the four aboveground floors and the two below ground.

Finally, he came to the prize of the exploratory divination, as the disjointed perspectives rejoined into a single point of view outside a large chamber within the bottom level of the building. A sign beside the door read ‘Server Room.’ The wards on this room were far more complex and designed in a style that Kragathor had never seen before. He could easily overpower it, but then it would trigger an alarm function. Parts of the design were in the magical equivalent of a foreign language that Kragathor had never seen before. For the first time in an extremely long time, Kragathor was at a loss.

Now he was truly intrigued.

Stefano, Wizzlefidget, Bloodied Talon, and the aide sat around a small table in a private room in one of the Virmo campus’s on-site restaurants. Along with them was a young human man with black hair and smooth bronze skin. The young man seemed a little agitated.

“Shouldn’t Leaflight be here too if we’re discussing business?” The young man’s voice had an accent to it very much unlike the others’.

Stefano shook his head. “Randy has been rather uncooperative in this matter, and so we decided it best we not trouble him with something he doesn’t believe is a serious threat, Mr. Ikeda.”

“You know he hates being called Randy. I know he’s a bit of a snob at times, but can’t you guys at least try to be civil to each other? You guys are all my friends, and I dislike seeing you fight.”

“I think that’s beside the point right now, Kenji,” the gnomish head of DevOps interjected. “We have a real, pressing problem. Last night, the wards around the Server Room recorded a very powerful and complex divination observing them. It did not try to push through the wards, but it observed them for well over an hour before disappearing. The outer wards never even detected the intrusion. Based on the recorded information, it could have just brute forced the wards you designed, but it seemed more interested in studying them,” she explained.

“Okay, I’ll admit that that is rather curious, but that doesn’t explain why the whole board isn’t here.”

“We didn’t want to distract you from your work until we were absolutely certain, and Randy… Randell, has been obstinate and obstructive in this matter. Over the last two days, we’ve been gathering the information, and the more we get, the more certain we are. An ancient dragon has procured a copy of the Virmo terminal crystal and has been playing on the Ciro server. It has also copied that one three times, two of which are connected with other accounts. Further…” Stefano didn’t manage to get any further before Kenji interrupted him.

“Holy fucking hell, a real dragon?! That’s awesome! Man, I’ve been wanting to see one of those!”

“Kenji, this is serious,” said Talon. “Everything so far points to the dragon using the crystal being Kragathor Tenset Malevolous. Any dragon would have been bad enough, but from the information I acquired…” Talon breathed deeply and shuddered. “Kragathor is ancient beyond measure. He disappeared thousands of years ago and was thought dead. I met the Grand Patriarch of my clan, the largest and oldest known dragon in the world, and he spoke of Kragathor with an awe and reverence that your kind reserve for the gods. This dragon we believe we are dealing with is a legend amongst legends for his kind. After speaking with the Grand Patriarch, I did some more research, using the titles he’d referenced.

“Our recorded history is rather fragmented and missing large swaths from before the beginning of the Age of Heroes, when the mortal races banded together and managed to take out most of the world’s most powerful beings, at great costs. The Dragon Wars, in particular, set civilization back for a long time. Kragathor, under many different titles, was responsible for more than a few similar purges of nations of far gone legend. Once I knew where to look, I found legends of him and references to him dating back to the beginnings of the first civilizations, more than 50,000 years ago. He’s even a common ancestor for most of the remaining dragons in this world.

“I could go on for hours and not properly convey the scope of the threat he represents if he should decide he doesn’t want us around anymore.”

The others looked to Talon, a bit stunned by his impassioned speech. It was rather out of character for the cool-blooded Scaled One to get so worked up over anything.

“Alright, I get it, this is serious. So, what can we do?”

“We’re trying to work on a way to contact him directly, but it will take at least a few more days. The measures you asked us to implement for customer privacy have ended up hindering us in our ability to reach out to him. Our only hope is to proactively seek to appease him,” said Stefano and Wizzlefidget nodded in agreement. “For now, I’m going to reassign my aide to you, in order to protect you should things take a turn for the worse, Mr. Ikeda.”

Kenji shivered as he looked at the aide. “No offense, but that thing is a little too uncanny valley for me. I kind of regret giving you guys the idea to create that.”

“Kenji, please,” Wizzlefidget pleaded. “Without you, none of this would have been possible. Let us do what we can to protect you and your legacy.”

“Fine,” he agreed, with a slight tone of sulk in his voice.