"There are many notable people and monsters across the entirety of Nortanis. Some are the leading force of their respective churches, and others dominate an entire area, like the Leviathan of the glaciers. Some are, instead, independent entities living every day in a different place altogether. Of course, the truly powerful beings such as the living Avatars of the Gods are well beyond the Bottomless ocean for us to notice their fights.

Never provoke one of these entities without an army behind you. It won’t end well.”

-Sage Sarianna, historian of the continent of Nortanis, the so-called ‘safe zone.’

Dorel pov

The Boss vanished with a smile.

Dorel clenched and unclenched his fist a few times. “How bad is the situation?”

Callen handled several screens by himself, moving as rapidly as he could. "In Varasha? The city almost fell. If you didn't arrive at the exact moment that I got the news, I would have you dragged out of bed. The rest of Valkas… is not doing great. At least the situation isn't worsening anymore..." He muttered.

Dorel didn’t disturb him further, as his father had taught him to.

Dan, of course, hadn’t been. Before he could even think of uttering a sound, Dorel nudged him with his elbow, shaking his head. His friend rolled his eyes but nodded.

While the mage was occupied, Dorel took a second glance at his Quest.

*Quest: Adatho has gone silent

Objective: The citadel of Adatho is silent, but the Core is still actively used. Find out what happened, and do what you can.

Reward: ??? *

He wasn’t a scout like Dan, nor his senses were sharper than the Boss’. Dorel wondered if the Quests had been assigned randomly or not, despite Callen asking them their specializations.

As soon as the mage called for the next teleport, he asked so. “My Quest is more oriented to search things, rather than protect. Why’s that?”

“Short version, a skill of mine automatically assigns the person to a Quest best suited for them. I don’t know what you’ll find there, only that you’re the most likely to come back from it in one piece. Aside from your leader, everyone would’ve died in Varasha.” He took in a deep breath. “May Alka’s flames bless us all.”

Dorel nodded. The Boss was likely fighting against another powerful monster on her own. He considered betting on it with Dan, but stepped ahead, touching the warm crystal with his armored hand. Despite the thickness of his armor, the Core’s magic still made his inside hum in tune with it. It felt… weird.

“We can wait for a squadron. Things are less urgent in Adatho.”

Dorel shook his head. “No. The faster we go, the more cities we can help.”

Callen’s frown distended a bit. “True. Then, good luck, Comrade. Remember, if everything is lost, return to the Core and ping it. I’ll get you out as quickly as I can.”

Dorel nodded again. “I will.”

The world flashed white.

A moment later, Dorel felt something hitting his back. He scratched his neck, feeling something warm against his fingers. He brought them in front of him, seeing them tinted red.

More pissed than pained, he turned.

A petite woman dressed in black stared at him, agape. She wielded a knife, tinted red. “H-How?!”

Dorel narrowed his gaze. “Resilience.” He answered, before shield-bashing the stunned woman. Should’ve worn my helmet before entering. My mistake.

She hit the wall, bounced back on the ground, then stopped moving.

Dan showed him the same trick, once or twice. Dorel muttered a chant to heal himself, then charged the unmoving woman.

Swifter than what should’ve been possible, she bounced back on her feet, then jumped on the side.

The Protector stopped in time to avoid colliding against the wall.

The would-be assassin frowned. “You’re not a typical Templar, aren’t you?”

Dorel activated [Protector’s armor], a skill that that his Title had evolved from [Defender’s protection]. He ignored her question and swiftly charged again.

The woman nimbly jumped on his weapon, rolling behind him. She struck twice, her daggers harmlessly bouncing off Dorel’s armor. A moment later, she moaned in pain.

Retribution didn’t need to consume the stored damage to return the harm.

Dorel turned, swifter than his usual speed, then punched her in the face. No one ever expected to be punched in a fight when their opponent wielded a weapon.

His strike sent the woman flying, bouncing just near the Core. She was clutching both her head and her back neck, the latter bleeding profusely.

And it returned the wound, instead of simple damage.

She touched the Core. “Damned Defenders!” She hissed, vanishing a moment later.

Dorel frowned, standing on the lookout. The Core seemed fine to his untrained self, and there was little to no movement out of this room. The assassin hadn’t called for help, so, perhaps, there was hope? Still, he should’ve been more careful with his bashes, even if the Title buffs were relatively new.

He now understood why the system or whatnot had sent him here.

Dan and Veliel could be seriously hurt from a hit like that, unlike him and the Boss.

Dorel glanced at the Core one last time, then approached the closed door. He touched the chain, manipulating the metal just enough to separate two rings. Poor craftsmanship. He thought, stepping beyond.

With his helmet on.

He searched for someone, anyone.

The floor was buried under a thick layer of dust and debris, often painted with dried blood or scorched by magic. The very air weighted on Dorel, suffocating him with the raw violence imprinted on the place.

Dorel saw many shadows moving just at the corner of his sight, but he decided to not engage until they did first. After having spared a glance at the ruined city beyond the broken window, his gut told him that they were the only beings capable of speech in the area, and he needed answers.

Other than the sense of desolation and abandonment, he found several monsters fighting and munching on each other. They attacked him on sight, and he returned the favor without hesitation. He had used some of his stored damage during these days, so a bit more juice in the resource couldn’t hurt.

Once he managed to find a way out of the walls, he was finally welcomed by some sapient beings.

Three people stood in front of him, while a few more materialized behind his back and in the ruins nearby. “Greetings, Templar.” An old woman started. “Care for a talk?”

Dorel wondered how the Boss would have reacted to this ambush. He counted twelve people. “I do. What happened here?”

A weapon started to come out of its sheath.

“That’s a Retribution-Tier armor. Don’t bother unless you want to get hurt.” The woman said. The wielder on Dorel’s back sheathed its weapon. "Good. Now, Templar, why don't we move to a better location?"

“I prefer here.”

The woman half-smiled, almost melancholic. “I forgot that we don’t need to hide from prying eyes anymore. Apologizes, the force of habit." As Dorel didn't reply, she continued. "Very well. My first question is: What happened to Darra?”

Dorel noticed the other silent assassins tensing. “She tried to kill me. I defeated her, then she teleported away.”

“That bitch!” Someone shouted, kicking the dirt. “It wasn’t her turn to get away!”

The woman also hardened her gaze for a moment. “We’ll deal with her later. Why are you here, Templar?”

“A question for a question is fair where I come from.”

“This is no Varastill, child, and I make the rules here. Answer the question…” Pressure emanated from the assassin, heavy with killing intent. “Or I will pry it from your lips.”

Dorel snorted. “My Boss’ presence is much stronger than that. Don’t bother.”

*Umbral-Human ??? *

High level, single attunement, most of the status hidden. I must be cautious.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “You’re either brave, stupid, or both.”

“I’m on a mission, and you stand in my way. Answer or fight, but do it quickly. I have people to rescue, and no time to waste.” This citadel is done for. He intensified the glow of his armor. “Your decision?”

The aura… intensified.

She smirked widely. “Then impress me, child, and I just might humor you. People, we have a Tier 2 Templar to deal with! No killing, I need him alive.”

All the people surrounding Dorel vanished into the shadows.

The Protector grunted in annoyance. The Boss could’ve pacified them… no matter.Dorel activated [Protector’s armaments] and [Forger’s blessing]. The skills greatly enhanced his equipment, granting it additional defenses and Radiant-based damage.

He pondered how to go to the Core.

The wall was narrow, allowing few assassins to strike him at once but giving him a shorter reaction time. The outside was dicier, as they could hide behind every corner.

He chose the corridors, if only because it was the most direct and quick road to safety.

Dorel turned, stomping on the ground and creating small craters with every step. He almost didn’t feel the first attack, as it bounced off his heavy plate.

The attacker whimpered, reappearing briefly, before vanishing once again.

Dorel kept going like nothing had happened. He had improved his mana pool and his mana usage, but he was no caster like Veliel or even the Boss.

He was racing against the clock.

Dorel saw the next hit coming, and put the shield in the way. As soon as the assassin's attack rebounded, he added a shield bash to the pain. The poor guy crashed against a wall and didn't get up. Trick or not, it didn’t matter to him, not right now.

Someone used the distraction to their advantage.

The shortsword embedded deeply into Dorel’s left shoulder blade, stopping short of the lung. “Good defenses…” The old woman’s voice muttered, before retreating.

Dorel let out a brief scream, then coughed a healing spell. His organs restored themselves quickly, but the wound didn’t close. He created a rough patch of Luxum steel on the hole, just to not have a blatant weak point to exploit.

The woman had instantly identified the weakest link between his plates, then had struck it flawlessly. He knew that his crafting skills had a large room for improvement, but the assassin's skill burned his pride.

Shaking himself from his musings, Dorel started running next to the left wall since he wielded his shield with his right hand.

The assassin kept testing his armor, finding more and more weak links. At some point, marks directly appeared on Dorel’s body. He felt them starting to eat his enchantments.

Dorel stopped shoulders against the wall. With another activation of his Blessing, the marks vanished. He panted, waiting for the next hit.

None came.

“Short of breath, child?” A nearby shadow asked with an echoing voice. “You’re still in time to surrender.” Another shadow added in the same amused tone.

Dorel remembered how ‘surrendering’ worked for Solkans. It wasn't good for the prisoner. He moved attached to the wall, leaving a red streak behind him.

Marks reappeared, but no other weapon struck him down.

He eyed his mana, seeing it getting a bit too low for his tastes. The escape room was pretty distant from him. The Protector grunted in annoyance, charging up his shield. He slammed its bottom on the floor, sending out a powerful wave of dispelling Radiance and Light.

A bunch of people found themselves out of their shadows, startled.

Dorel abused their confusion to charge the closest one, cracking her head against the wall with a lateral bash. He kept up his momentum, turning right to unleash part of his stored damage as a blinding ray against another foe.

Dorel managed to direct the skill onto another person before the shortsword bit him once again. Having expected it, he quickly shifted his body to stop the blade from slicing too deep. Dorel ignored the muscle-level wound and used his rotation to bash the woman.

He hit only empty air and earned another slice on his supporting leg. His tendon cut, Dorel flailed, crashing on the floor on one arm.

The woman reappeared in front of him, mocking. “Can’t stand some kisses?”

He focused on breathing, suppressing his anger. Anger could cloud his judgment and he needed it all. I can’t keep going like this.

He, Dan, and Veliel had resolved to follow the Boss in hiding their Omni attunement, and decided to focus on their main elements. They had seen how much some people were determined in killing her.

Unfortunately, his capture would’ve surely led to the truth. Astill’s forbid, they could use him as a way to blackmail Nashariel. They had proven their ruthlessness many times already.

It had to happen, eventually. Or perhaps I’ve been too arrogant. I could’ve used this before.

Dorel exhaled.

And rock boiled.

The stone liquefied, scorching the feet of his opponents.

Dorel rose, quickly covered by an additional layer of semi-liquid lava. He allowed it to become rigid near his leg, acting as a false tendon. Every movement hurt like hell, but he was used to it.

He slammed his shield again, consuming his stored damage to create a large wave of lava in all directions. He didn’t wait for the attack to vanish, and ran the fastest he could in the Core’s direction.

Two persons reappeared in his way. One cast a bold of pure darkness, and the other let out a chilling wave of mist that rapidly hardened his lava.

Due to the impaired movements, Dorel barely intercepted the projectile, sliding back some.

He used his [Lava manipulation] to keep himself mobile, then unleashed a [Lava bolt] from his tower shield.

The Mist-Assassin easily dodged the large and slow projectile. Unfortunately for him, Dorel had already launched a twin of the spell with his free hand. Lava splattered on the assassin’s face, adding the stench of burned flesh in the corridor.

In that brief second of distraction, the other assassin had vanished.

Dorel felt countless projectiles digging against his back, repelled by his armor empowered by his Omni-skills. He turned with an angry snarl, manipulating the solidifying lava nearby into glowing.

The shadows vanished, leaving the spellcaster exposed. She narrowed her eyes, then conjured a dark spear in her hands. She threw it with all her might, uncaring about Dorel’s bolt of lava cast in return.

The Protector put his defense in front of himself.

As soon as the spear hit, opposite forces clashed against each other with a loud detonation. Dorel planted his feet on the ground but, despite his efforts, he found himself sliding back a few meters. Then his shield got punctured, and the few remnants of the spell shattered in a plume of dark smoke against his layered defenses.

Dorel grunted in annoyance, then used all the new stored damage to repair his weapon and his armor. After that, he saw that the nose-bleeding spellcaster was glaring at him with pure hatred while clutching her head tightly. She turned tail and ran.

More relieved than he wanted to admit, Dorel sprinted in the direction of the Core, using the little mana he had left to heal his worse wounds.

Dorel shattered the door, stumbling into the Core room.

He limped to the Core, sending through it a small pulse of mana. Hopefully, Callen had a teleport available right now.

…

Shit. Exhausted in mana and body, Dorel collapsed against the Core, facing the door. He had been forced to dismiss all his offensive enchantments just to keep his Armor running. This was way too close.He thought. I should have waited for the squadron. Why have I been so damned arrogant?! Dorel angrily smashed his fist against the floor, cracking a few tiles. Karda did warn everyone about getting drunk from power. Many times, actually.

He didn’t want to find out what that woman was capable of doing him without it.

Dorel shivered. Her capabilities spoke of a tremendous amount of skill honed by possibly decades of experience. He was no match for her, despite their equal Tier.

A movement at the corner of his sight alerted him just in time to move his shield in the way of the flying dagger.

Aren’t they done, yet? Dorel thought. He saw the disappointed visage of the leader in question.

She bore no burn marks at all. “It’s been a while since I met a Templar so capable. One this young, of course.” She said, sitting on the other side of the room.

“You love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” Dorel replied, slowly forcing himself to rise on his feet. He surely didn’t feel like the powerful recruit that Callen had called him and his friends.

She smirked. “Boredom is a powerful incentive.” She crossed her legs. “Very well, you made this day quite a bit more interesting than the usual monsterwatching. You wanted some answers, didn’t you?”

Dorel nodded. “What happened to the city, and what’s a Syndicate doing here?” There was no way that these well-organized assassins were anything other than a Solkan Syndicate.

She chuckled. “Haven’t you noticed the whole bloody world going berserk? Once the walls crumbled, the surviving Paladins ran away from here." A smile crept up on her face. "We may or may not have helped them in their decision."

Dorel shivered.

"Funnily enough, we have been sent here to deal with this shit. The wilds, I mean, not the Paladins. I don't know if you're aware, but there's an annoying creature that, from time to time, messes up the entire ecosystem by simply existing. A dragon, to be precise, born among us mortals.”

Dorel stood very, very still. Does that mean…!?

She didn’t seem to notice anything, as she had started cleaning her fingers with the tip of her daggers. "Well, my higher-ups told me that she was… isin Valkas. We’re here to put things back how they should be, then everyone’s lives can go back to be a little less monster-y.”

The Core behind Dorel pulsed.

“Aww, it seems that our chatting time has run out. Well…”

Without his eyes perceiving the barest hint, Dorel saw a dagger’s hilt sprouting from his heart. He coughed blood, and his eyesight got foggy. He fell on a knee. This isn’t normal damage…!

The woman knelt beside him, whispering in his ear. “Tell them that the Black Huntress says hi.” Every trace of mirth had vanished from her now ice-cold voice.

His eyelids got heavy, too heavy.

Dorel drifted to unconsciousness, just after feeling a different set of stones under his armor.

The Black Huntress pov

Valania took a last look at the vanishing Templar. They always had the same look on them when she stabbed their heart. A kid already in his second Tier… This world needs her death.

Templar or not, no child should be forced to level this fast.

“Was letting him go the right choice?” Lea, her right arm, asked. Her clothes were singed, but not her skin. She had wiped the blood coming out of her nose, at least.

She grinned. “We have just been discovered, we can’t possibly continue our mission. And, look, we’ve both been overpowered!” She mocked, slicing her own arm.

Lea nodded, her face perfectly neutral. “I understand. I already collected his blood for tracking.”

A minor fracture in the young girl’s mask betrayed something. Valania chuckled. “Did he defeat you? Actually?”

“I was… not prepared to face Retribution. He reflected the damage of my [Umbral spear] even though I didn’t directly damage him. My spells prevented part of the damage on my body, at least.”

“You’ll do better next time.”

“Yes, Mistress, I will.”

The Black Huntress started walking in the direction of the youngsters under her command, ready to administer an equal dose of Healing-potions and stern scolding. Fortunately, the Defender had been too hard-pressed to kill any of them. Or merciful? You never know with Astillians…

Lea’s quiet steps followed her as faithfully as the day that she had decided to follow her in that muddy street, so many years ago. She had proven her value time and time again after that faithful day.

Ah, memories, what a blessing and a curse you are. “You know, at first I thought of letting him go just because I couldn’t take these ruins anymore.” She paused, taking in the sight of the abandoned city for the umpteenth time. “But he knew something. We must get back to the diviners as soon as possible. I’m sure that the target is with him.” She added with a smirk. Only dragons have auras stronger than mine at its first Tier. And the little child should really work on his poker face!

Must be nice to not be forced to improve on that…

For a while, the echo of her steps was the only sound that could be heard in the empty corridor.