Nic crushed the stone in his palm, and felt the air begin to shake. There was a vast wailing, a sound going up from the sand and the stones underfoot, as if the world itself was lamenting. Three black coffins appeared in the sky, fading in from shadowy crackles of energy. Each was engraved with faces of rusted iron…

And one by one, they opened.

From the first coffin appeared the blue-skinned elf Nic had met before, carrying a lyre made of tortoiseshell and bone. On his fingers shone rings of gold, and his hair was mustered into wild braids held in place by bands of carved ivory.

The next coffin swung open.

Out dropped a heavy figure, so heavy the earth shook as she landed. Her body was the color of burnished bronze, with wild golden hair and a scarred face. She had six arms, each elbow extending back into a vestigial black wing that fluttered and twitched. Ribbons of feathers extended from the sides of her mouth, and she breathed out burning black flames.

The final coffin opened.

The last creature to emerge was almost disappointing. It was small, smaller than Nic, with an oversized head and skin that looked burnt and ashy, patterned with mottled patches of gray over black. Golden spikes extended out along the line of its spine, and its arms were manacled together with rune-covered chains.

And yet it was this final creature, this hunched pygmy, that gave him the greatest sense of threat.

“We have come to your call. Are you ready to join the Ghost-Toll Legion?”

“Let’s say I’m ready to help you keep the other Legions out…” Nic sighed. It really didn’t look good for him, being rescued like this.

“Good enough.” The musician called out. “Yvain! Stop them!”

Without needing another word the bronze-skinned woman stepped forward, and her six hands became a storm, reaching out and up into the sky. Illusionary shadows flew from her fingertips as they made the shape of claws.

A half-dozen sand devils fell in the first moments, before they could rally their defenses. Attacks rained down against her shoulders, falling from above, but the six-armed woman seemed indestructible. Their strongest weapons did nothing but break against her skin.

The musician smiled softly and strummed his lyre. Resonating energy gathered on his fingertips and he stabbed into the barrier, making three indentations. The space between those three points flickered, and the barrier failed, opening a triangular door.

“Let’s depart.”

Nic nodded and stepped through. Behind him, Yvaine was at war, all of her hands slicing through the air to bring down as many as she could. The swarm was all around her, scattered to the winds as they tried to evade, and three of them had formed into a massive tortoise. Its jaws had one of her arms clamped, but she was smashed palm strike after palm strike into its skull. Cracks radiated across the surface of the formation’s illusory flesh.

“Yvaine! That’s enough.” The musician snapped.

With a reluctant snarl she broke free and took off, bounding across the sand on all eight limbs. In moments she was through the barrier, and the doorway collapsed behind them, leaving the sand devils trapped.

“My…” The musician plucked his strings, idly strumming a sad, minor melody. “You really kicked the hornet’s nest. But this place…”

He drew in a deep breath.

“This place is a wonderland. A true utopia for our kind. I can feel the demonic energy radiating from the pores of the earth, and that thing in the distance…” He nodded his head towards the distant storm of warped portals, where different horizons collided in a mangle of spatial rifts. “Offers its own possibilities. Yes, you’ve truly offered us a great deal in exchange for your freedom.”

“Don’t remind me.” Nic said sourly.

“Eh-heh.” The little pygmy chuckled in a cracked, raspy voice. “Don’t be down. Legion got us all. Better to be a demon with friends than a demon without.”

“Friends? I’ve yet to need ‘em.” The woman said with a smile, shaking her arms out as the thin wounds on her flesh filled up.

“Are we going to talk or are we going to get out of here?” Nic snapped. “That barrier is going to come down soon, and there’s worse than the devils inside of there.”

Seoona hadn’t made an appearance. That worried Nic.

On a hunch he snapped open his read-out of the System’s quests…

It was like he thought.

The quest the System had given to kill the original six Ascended devils was still incomplete. Meaning Seoona, despite her harsh words, had saved the elven-devil after all. That would slow her down some…

And maybe, just maybe, these three could fight her head-to-head…

But Nic would still prefer not to tangle with her at all. Too much chance of things going wrong. As far as he was concerned, it wasn’t her raw power that was the danger. It was her age, and the number of times she would have had to have cheated death to live so long. The number of tricks up her sleeve. The life or death plays she was prepared to make.

Put simply…

You didn’t put someone like that in the corner for no reason.

That was the mistake she’d made with Nic.

Quietly, he pushed the map down into his bag. He definitely wouldn’t be revealing it to these three.

“Yes, yes…” In a tone of voice as if Nic was being very tiresome, the elf agreed. “Let us begone.” He drew a paper talisman from his sleeve and cast it to the ground. It expanded into an origami crane, massive enough to carry all four of them.

“What’s your plan?” Nic asked, cautiously stepping aboard.

“Well, the System has seen fit to gift us a quest, and I’m quite interested in what this ‘Heartstone’ might be. Therefor, I think it wise to collect these delightful runes you’ve discovered. It’s not every day one sees so many Dao Markings in one place…” The musician rambled.

“I would skin you.” Yvaine grunted brusquely. “If that was an option.”

Nic returned the sentiment with a finger.

The origami crane lifted up into the air, carrying them high in a heartbeat. A conjured wind struck against the paper and carried it like an unseen hand, the scent of the air shifting, filling with ash and smoke.

“Yes, I think we’ll collect our sets. Sorry to say, little brother, we’ll be competing with you…” The elf had such a lax, silky way of speaking. It was like listening to a serpent hiss.

“Compete away.” Nic was still looking back at the palace, the dome of amber light slowly falling away. The sand devils had retreated, and there was no sign of their warships, no pursuit. Seoona must have been able to tell he’d conjured help. “I’m leaving.”

“Oh? Not going to aim for the grand prize? I’m surprised, little brother. I thought you had more ambition.” The musician said.

“Yeah, I’ve had all the desert I can take.” Nic was still soaked in dried, crusty blood, tiny pieces of glass popping out of his skin as the flesh below regenerated and pushed them out. He could feel his lungs rasping with silicate sand. Feel his bones aching as his arm regenerated. “I need to get back to my Settlement. This whole desert excursion was just to see what I could see. Now, I know I’ve got an enemy army sitting at my front door…”

And secretly, he needed to start planning.

Seoona wanted to destroy an entire planet to draw attention towards Earth from the powers beyond the System. Nic would need his own solution.

And a way to actually get the people of Winterhome off Earth to begin with…

“I see. Yes, that does pose something of a problem, although formally joining the legion will allow you to recruit others to your banner. Not quite as strong as us, I fear, but strong enough to give you a fighting chance.” Reaching into his pockets, the elf took out a seal. It was made of black, lacquered wood and shaped like an octagon, with a white serpent curled atop.

“This…” The musician explained. “Is your legion seal. It will allow you to buy mercenaries and techniques from the Legion, assuming you earn enough merit.”

Nic took it cautiously. Recorded on the trunk of the seal were six golden lines. “What do those mean?” He asked.

“That you have accumulated six hundred merit points.” The elf replied. “For the discovery of this new world.”

“You were already here.” Nic said suspiciously.

“And yet I could not act, take any significant role in proceedings, unless you invited me in.” The elf smiled back. “The System does not take kindly to people such as me simply letting ourselves in during an Integration.”

It made a grim kind of sense. If you could just show up without an invitation, the world would be swarming with C-Class bastards and above, pillaging the resources and leaving nothing to fight over.

They sailed towards the edge of the dungeon.

Beneath, Nic could see fires burning around the portal. He saw figures standing by, and bodies littering the ground. His fist clenched as they descended and he waited to see who had won…

As they neared the ground, the dead bodies became clearer. They were jet black and shiny with insect chitin. The survivors, the winning faction, were soft-skinned and human. Nic relaxed slightly, although his heart stung to see there were only eight alive.

They’d lost three, and he imagined they’d be among his better warriors.

But Tarquin was there, and he smiled to see the satyr-boy waving up at him, his curly hair flopping about in the wind. Nic hopped down, dropping the last of the way in a single easy leap.

“And here I thought I’d have to rescue you.” Tarquin quipped.

“Are you kidding?” Nic casually summoned a splash of water and wiped the blood off his face. “I got out of there easy. Just had to call a cab…”

He looked up towards the descending origami crane.

The three figures stepped out, the musician all smiles, Yvaine his dour counterpart, the pygmy lurking in their shadows. “Are you going to introduce us to your merry little band?”

“No.” Nic said, stepping between them and the Winterhome soldiers. “I’m not. You made a bargain for me, you got me, I’ll help you. But as far as my people go…”

“They are not included. Understood.” The smile on the elf’s face showed no sign of insult. “I bid fare thee well, then. You will be contacted when it comes time to serve your duty and prevent the other Legions from making landing.”

“I’ll be ready…” Nic said.

Tilting a two-fingered salute his way, the elf guided the origami crane back up into the sky.

“Who the fuck was that?” Tarquin asked.