“Who are you?” the metalin asked, its voice sounded unnaturally deep, as if talking through a tuba.

“What’s it matter?” Dallion asked, filling his voice with notions of confusion and recklessness. To no surprise, no connection was achieved. The tendrils of music bounced off the metalin as if it were made of nothing.

“You aren’t permitted to remove the restrictions.”

Dallion’s response was to burst into instances, then strike at different parts of his enemy. If the metalin engaged in combat splitting—as one had to in such circumstances—Dallion was going to force the outcome that was best for him.

No such thing happened. Even slowed down, the construct attempted to evade the attacks, yet without creating instances of its own. The movements were scarily precise, yet even they weren’t able to block all attacks.

Sparks filled the corridor as the harpsisword struck parts of the armor, vibrating at each hit. Alas, despite the pressure Dallion was putting on, he found that he was unable to deal any actual damage.

Harp, can you keep this up? Dallion doubled his effort, splitting in twenty instances each blow.

Maintain the pressure, the dryad replied.

I’m not doing any damage.

Despite the number of hits the metalin didn’t seem in the least bit phased. It kept retreating backwards, swinging its dartblades to both defend and attack. On a few occasions it even shot a bolt at one of Dallion’s instances. Naturally, Dallion was quick to drop that instance before it was hit; he had no intention of making the same mistake twice.

The bolt flew through the air, hitting a wall. The moment it did the entire corridor shook.

Told you not to hit anything, dear boy, Nil said, very much to Dallion’s annoyance. Better finish this quickly.

Stay the course, Harp insisted. You can manage, you only need to figure out how.

In his mind, Dallion paused. There was two choices he could make. Harp was the oldest guardian he had. She had saved him several times and given good advice dozens of times more. Before he had hooked up with Euryale, Dallion considered her a mother of sorts. And ever since he had become a hunter, he had asked for her advice less and less. In a way, it almost felt like he was moving out of his parents’ house to be with his fiancée.

The effect won’t last forever, Nil urged.

Letting go of his dartblade, Dallion then summoned the Nox dagger. That had the power to slice through the armor for certain.

Dal, Harp said. Trust me.

Seconds remained before the metalin regained his full speed. Dallion had a split second to make a choice, and he did. The harpsisword struck the construct’s shoulder, bringing it off balance. Dallion followed up with a second attack right in the breastplate.

FATAL STRIKE

Damage dealt is increased by 500%

The dagger shattered through the metalin’s breastplate. The construct froze. Its empty helmet “looked” down at the spot of the hole, as if refusing to believe what had happened.

Not wasting a moment, Dallion struck again in the base of the metalin’s neck. Another red rectangle briefly appeared, before being replaced by a blue one.

SOMETHING SCARY

(+1 Body, +1 Reaction, +1 Mind, +1 Perception))

You’ve killed something new and scary that doesn’t exist. Don’t make it a habit, there won’t be any rewards next time.

For several seconds Dallion stood there, combat splitting as if expecting something to jump out from the end of the corridor. The metalin had been tough, although nowhere near some of the opponents he had fought. The way it fought reminded Dallion of the Star’s echo he had faced in the fallen south. The achievement rewards were also similar.

You could have succeeded, Harp said. The sound vibrations she used to speak couldn’t convey whether she was disappointed, but Dallion had the feeling she was.

Sorry, Harp.

It was the right call, Nil countered. Your goal isn’t to improve, it’s removing Havoc’s restrictions.

He could have done both.

“Gleam, keep watch,” Dallion whispered, then split into three instances and turned around with one. No sooner had he done so than Havoc was in front of him.

“Nice.” The large man took a step to the wall and pulled the bolt out of it. “Didn’t think you’d manage. Now we have a chance.”

“So, you’ll tell me what happened.”

“What happened?” Havoc arched his brows. “You need to remove the restrictions.”

Silence followed. Both men looked at each other in awkward silence, after which Havoc burst laughing.

“You thought this was it? If that was it, it wouldn’t be a problem removing a curse. Take a look at the doors.”

Chains were still visible making it impossible for any door to be opened. Whatever Dallion had done it clearly wasn’t enough.

“What about the thing I killed?” he asked.

“It protects the corridor. With it still here I couldn’t get out of my awakening room.” Havoc waved the bolt he was holding like a magic wand. “Time to see the rest of the realm.” He continued forward.

Maintaining a healthy number of instances, Dallion followed. The torch flames changed color back to yellow, allowing everyone to see much better. Soon, they reached a large double door with intricate motifs carved on it.

“Your training room?” Dallion asked.

“Yes. I used to spend half a week every day in here. Helps keep in shape. After the curse I had to use my awakening room, or item realms. It’s not the same thought. How much do you train?”

This was a trick question, mostly because Dallion hadn’t used the training area of his realm for a very long time. Back in the day when he was still exploring the realm he had found it quite cool, and even spent a while training basic defense stances under Nil’s supervision. At present, he wasn’t even sure where the training area was.

“Will there be anything in there?” Dallion asked instead, still gripping both his weapons.

“Let’s find out.” Havoc slammed both sides of the door with his fists, making it swing open in front of them.

A large combat arena lit up. The first thing that Dallion saw was the series of wooden training tools that would perfectly fit a martial arts temple. All of them were massive and seen considerable use. Surrounding the arena were a number of statues of creatures that stood against the walls, along with dozens of portraits. Each represented a different creature caught in a rather aggressive pose.

“Things I helped catch,” Havoc explained vaguely. “There’s a story behind every one of them. Of course, I can’t share any until we’re done.”

There were a series of wolves, a bladicorn, several birds, and a whole lot of creatures Dallion couldn’t identify.

“Haven’t seen any of those.” Dallion pointed at the statue of a two-headed serpent.

“Some of them aren’t local. That’s from the north.”

Dallion made his way around the side of the arena, looking at the paintings. It didn’t take long for to find what he was hoping for: the depiction of a phoenix. Two wings stretched in an attempt to fill the whole lower half of the frame as they surrounded a far smaller slender body. To anyone with artistic skill it would appear that the artist had added a touch of The Avant-Garde to the otherwise realistic style. Having seen an echo of the actual creature, as well as its ability to shift, Dallion knew it to be the real thing.

“There’ll be time for that later,” Havoc said.

Yes, Dallion said to himself. Later.

“Where’s the door?” he asked.

“Right there.” The large man pointed to an empty section of the wall. “I tried busting it. Didn’t work.”

Dallion looked. No outline was visible.

“Are you sure?” He walked in the direction. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s there.”

Nox, your turn, Dallion said.

The crackling leapt from the dagger onto the combat arena. With a snarl it leapt in the direction Havoc was pointing and started sniffing the wall.

“Two companions?” Havoc remarked. “Not bad.”

It’s here, Nox purred. It’s very thin.

Moving closer, he saw what the familiar was saying. Without a doubt, there was an outline of a doorway. As thick as the width of a piece of paper, a line made its way seven feet up starting from the floor, then three feet across, before falling back down. If it hadn’t been for the crackling, Dallion wouldn’t have even noticed it.

“What’s your usual level?” Dallion slid the fingers of his left arm along the line.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Whatever it was, you’ll get it back when I create the opening. No idea if your skill will be back, though.”

“Traits will be enough or a start. After that we can fight together. Just like back during the chainling hunt.”

That didn’t fill Dallion with confidence. Havoc had done precious little that battle, even if his advice had been spot on. It was looking like this might be a repeat of the situation. Hopefully, this time he wasn’t going to get wounded so easily.”

The crackling split into four versions of himself. Two of them jumped up, sticking their claws then slid down, slicing it like a curtain. Meanwhile, the other two took turns leaping and slashing at the wall so as to create the horizontal connection.

“That’s strangely adorable,” Havoc said. “How did you get a crackling as your familiar?”

“Long story.” Dallion tightened his grip round the harpsisword. “What do you think is out there?”

“Don’t know. Maybe when I get my level back up, I’ll have an idea. I can’t link to anything at level three, not even most of my realm.”

A loud hissing sound filled the room, as the carved out a section of the wall poured down to the flood like sand. An archway had appeared, leading to what appeared to be a mountain range.

“What’s that?” Dallio glanced at Havoc.

“What can I say? I was born in a mountain village. I like mountains.”

“Any change in level?”

This was the moment of truth. Dallion had unsealed the powers of a few people so far. In those cases the people weren’t cursed, so no changes were expected. There was no guarantee that Havoc would get his level restored, but it would be a huge advantage if he did.

“Nothing I can feel.” The man shrugged.

Not good, Dallion thought. “Nox, look around for other doors.”

The four cracklings snarled, annoyed, then split up running off along both sides of the area. As they did, Dallion approached the arc to get a better look at what was outside. Based on what Havoc had said, the realm was supposed to be a mountain. In a way that was good—it allowed him to use line attacks again.

I can use line attacks, right? Dallion asked just to be on the same side.

Yes, although I wouldn’t recommend it, the echo replied. Rely on Nox, he’s your winning ticket in the situation. Just be quick. Metalins are fast learners.

COMBAT INITIATED

Crap! “Shield!” Dallion yelled, raising the armadil shield in front of him.

The shield extended just in time to block over a dozen projectiles. The sound was different from the bolts the previous metalin had used. That didn’t make them any less deadly.

“Havoc, get back in the corridor!”

A pair of daggers flew over Dallion’s head, just above the end of the armadil shield.

“Where’s the fun in that?” The large man grinned.

Found another opening, Nox said. Want me to open it?

The second sealed doorway was to the side of the arena, right behind the painting of a moon wolf. An interesting place for an exit. If Dallion had to guess, it had to be a link to one of Havoc’s items. When the man had been delevelled, he had also lost the ability to link to items. That suggested that unsealing the link would allow the man to summon a better weapon.

Unseal it, but be careful. He burst into a hundred instances.

It was time to check the outside of the realm.