“We’re going to be here for fricking forever,” El-One grumbled, tapping his foot impatiently.

A dense line extended from the guardhouse ahead. Groups of armed and armored individuals stood in clusters. Only a pair of guards stood at the entrance. They alternated between checking badges, paperwork, and bags and inspecting everything those exiting the undercity brought out with them. A few of their colleagues stood along the street, ensuring fights didn’t break out. Despite the clogging none of them moved to assist the struggling pair. As a result, everything moved at a snail’s pace. It looked like a staffing issue—shortage plus poor hiring.

“It doesn’t matter how fast the line moves,” Lukas said, eyeing the woman in front of him. It wasn’t her low neckline or curves highlighted by her tight clothing that had his attention. Instead, he watched the dagger loosely attached to her belt. He could feel the magic radiating from the crystals planted in the brass pommel and guard. “If Penelope doesn’t get here, we can’t go down.”

“We can with these.” The clone tapped the copy of the wooden badge pinned to his coat.

“Fine. We can but won’t. It's the damned job. I just hope we don’t get to the front, then waste too much time, and are then ordered to the back.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said a deep, masculine voice. Lukas and his clone scanned their surroundings, struggling to find the source. “Boy, Penny was wrong about you having brains. Down here.” It was Bass, the familiar. On all fours, the winged feline barely stood higher than their ankles. “You’re in the wrong place.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the way down to the undercity,” Elvis said, standing on his tiptoes and eyes glossing over the crowd. “Where’s Penelope?”

“Just shut up and follow me.” Bass sighed before trotting away from the line and down a nearby alley.

Lukas followed without question, adjusting the small kite-shaped buckler strapped to his left forearm. It was one of Kat’s creations, and El-One’s ongoing tryst with her got them a discount. The design was far from traditional. The shorter end of the kite sat near the elbow, and the other stretched just past his knuckles. Lukas’s fingers stuck out around the tapering when he stretched them out. He hoped the sharpened point would prove useful when combined with his mediocre unarmed fighting skills.

The runic shortsword also hung from his belt, ready to do its thing when needed. Lukas had also considered investing in a weapon with reach, but most sources claimed the undercity’s passages were often too cramped, limiting the maneuverability of all pole weapons. A new addition now sat in the loop next to the shortsword. It was the ornate dagger. Lukas let the clone take the lead, putting an extra barrier between himself and the familiar before inspecting it.

Focusing Dagger

The steel dagger is well-made but perfectly ordinary. The stones planted in the hilt and pommel absorb and store magic. They’re also capable of storing temporary blade enchantments. Once they run out, the gems will need recharging and re-enchanting.

Speak the command to activate the respective enchantment.

Suga Seith: Syphon magic through the blade. It does nothing to the nonmagical. Recharge yourself or the weapon’s crystals.

Rifa Tar: Rip and tear flesh that the blade touches. Wounds born of the enchantment bleed harder, longer, and are harder to mend.

Meanwhile, ‘Elvis’ had a small roundshield to go with the three-stage spear. A flanged mace also hung from his belt. Lukas liked to think they made for an intimidating duo with their leather armor, weapons, and coats. They still appeared skinny and sickly—considerably less than they did when they first arrived in Iskander. However, the equipment, growing competency with weapons, and understanding of magic came with confidence.

Bass weaved through crowds, making following him a struggle. Often, he had to pause so the ‘twins’ could catch up to him. The familiar led them into a guardhouse on one of the parallel streets. Much to Lukas’s surprise, no one stopped or questioned them. Instead, the guards stood aside as soon as they saw Bass. He led the Lukas and the clone through a series of stairwells and a network of tunnels.

Architecture changed. Building materials went from chalk flecked with black flint to shades of cloudy grey and dark red. Guards grew wary whenever Lukas and El-One approached, hands moving toward weapons but their demeanors changed as soon as eyes landed on Bass. Shoulders and backs stiffened and straightened. It seemed they were struggling not to appear at attention or keep their nerves from showing.

We’re in the undercity.

“The rumors were true,” Elvis commented. “All these places do have tunnels leading down. Why even bother with the checkpoints and main gate?”

“They’re not meant for the likes of you,” Bass said. “Only people who matter get to use these.”

A fifteen-minute descent brought them to the upper levels of the undercity. The tunnel widened into a giant hall bustling with activity. Guards stood at attention or assisted a small army of porters carrying and moving things. Individuals wearing guild badges stood around talking or fastening armor and checking equipment. They were significantly better dressed than the individuals in the line above.

Penelope stood out among them, wearing an eye-drawing sky-blue dress. It was a snug fit around her top half and then flared around the waist before cascading like a waterfall. She carried a staff that looked like a polished branch. It opened near the top, creating a twiggy cage around a glass ball that floated within. The sphere looked like an essence but was more crystalline and twin wisps floated within. One crimson and the other blue.

“There you are,” she said, sounding annoyed. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

“Maybe we should’ve met at the inn and come down together like I suggested,” Lukas said, not caring that his tone was blunt. A nearby group glared at him.

Is that a ‘how dare you?’ or a ‘you must have a death wish?’

“We’d be on the same page on where to meet, and neither of us would be waiting for the other.”

The sorcerer glared at him for a moment.

“How dare you speak to Penny in that tone?” Bass growled. “I should rip—”

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“Maybe you’re right,” Penelope said, cutting her familiar off. “I tend to forget what it's like for people in—” She paused, appearing to look for the right word. “—for people just starting out. Sorcerers don’t often have to stand in line or follow standard procedure.” She waved over a passing soldier. His breastplate carried more decorations than the average soldier’s. Penelope waved to the ‘twins.’ “Lukas and Elvis Zaun are in my employ. On occasion, they might need to head into the undercity without me. I can’t have them be delayed up top with the common—” She paused as if looking for the right words. “—procedure.”

“Ma’am we can’t just add anyone to the exclusion list,” the man replied, looking Lukas and the clone up and down. “They’re tier-one, tier-two adventurers at best. That too, signed with the Shadow Seekers. We—”

“Do I need to escalate this?” Penelope interrupted, crossing her arms. Bass meowed angrily next to her, his ability to speak suddenly gone. “The Zaun brothers have a letter of introduction from Guard Captain Stefan Santana. Maybe I should speak to him instead.”

“That won’t be necessary,” the man quickly said. He pulled a clipboard out of his satchel and narrated as he spoke. “Lukas Zaun. Elvis Zaun. Shadow Seekers. Approved by Captain Santana and the Azure Sorcerer.” He stepped toward Penelope but froze when Bass growled. The man held the clipboard out to her instead, handshaking. “I’ll need your mark, ma’am.”

Penelope smiled sweetly, taking the clipboard. She pressed a thumb to the spot he had marked. The page smoked and sizzled for a moment. An azure thumbprint remained, surrounded by faint scorchmarks. The guard gave it a once over before nodding.

“Is your party ready to descend, ma’am? We’ve been keeping things clear for you.”

“Yes,” she replied without checking with Lukas or Zaun.

The soldier guided them to the center of the giant hall. An elaborate network of pulleys and arm-thick chains surrounded them, all connecting to a thick wooden platform that sounded metallic when they stepped onto it. He barked a series of commands, and spared Lukas and Elvis an apologetic command before yelling, “Turn the wheel!”

It was a slow descent through a seemingly endless shaft. Just as El-One started to impatiently tap his foot, the vertical passage opened into a cavern so large Lukas failed to find its edges. Torches, braziers, and unnatural sources lit the upper levels. He spotted individuals in guard uniforms, civilian clothing, and random armor bits fighting giant rats and organisms that resembled giant blobs of gelatin.

“Culling slimes is a regular job in any developed city,” Penelope explained when Lukas asked about them. Sixty years in the Realm of Greater Beings, and he had never seen any such creature. They reminded him of creatures in video games. “They were originally alchemically made to assist with sanitation. Waste. Corpses. All manners of dead organic materials. Slimes can break down and consume them all. But the more food there is for them to eat, the faster they grow and reproduce.”

“Makes sense why there are so many jobs related to culling them,” Elvis stated.

“Sounds like a flawed, incomplete invention,” Lukas said. “Limitless reproductive capability can get out of hand over time. Wouldn’t it be better if they lose their reproductive capability after a certain point?”

Penelope nodded. “Easier said than done. The recipe and samples came here from another realm, apparently. Stupid alchemists reproduced it, thinking they were cleaning up the world and curing countless diseases. Whatever technology or knowledge that went into slimes is lost or hoarded. People have been trying to reproduce and change the recipe for years.”

“And ecological disasters have followed?”

“It’s a delicate balance.” Penelope sighed. “Slimes are an integral part of any decent city’s infrastructure. If not for the slimes, all the waste would end up in the sea. Then, all the seafood fish and crustaceans would consume it. They’d either die, or the magical compounds from all the workshops and research centers would make them toxic.”

“So, you need to kill enough so the slimes don’t spill into the city and cause chaos but leave enough alive so they eat everything that’s dumped down here,” Elvis said.

“Precisely.”

Sounds like the perfect way to get rid of a body.

“The biggest issue tends to be people getting overzealous and greedy. Older, more powerful slimes develop essence cores, and they sell for quite a bit. Idiots die trying to kill these, and far too many people overkill.”

“Are these things easily recognizable?” Lukas asked. “I mean the essences that come out of slimes.”

Penelope nodded.

“Then shouldn’t the city place stricter regulations on the sale of them and how much can be brought up from the undercity? The checkpoints seem rather strict already.”

“I’m told something of the sort is in the works, but there are far too many organizations lobbying against it,” Penelope explained. “It’s not just the hunter and adventurer guilds. Merchant and artisan unions. Mage colleges. They don’t want even stricter regulation and taxation on things coming up from below. Interferes with free trade and research statuses.”

“And they’ll all need to pay the city guard more in bribes to continue their work,” Elvis contributed.

“That’s pretty much it,” Penelope said. “Laws might change, but progress and business don’t. Greed is a dangerous thing.”

The lighting became more natural as the elevator descended further. Bioluminescent fungi and lichen covered giant patches of walls. Occasional glowing crystals shone like several tiny, craggy moons, casting their light far around them. Together, they illuminated several smaller groups, killing creatures ranging from troglodytes and half-fish-half-man abominations to monstrous moles and swarms of giant spiders.

Lukas and the clones had witnessed plenty of shard abilities while in Iskander. Fire-breathing. Freezing Touch. Enhanced strength, speed, and toughness. They were yet to see any with combat as the only function or potency.

A woman danced around tangless swords. They floated around her blocking an incoming fish-man’s strikes and slicing through its limbs and digits. When the creature retreated, screeching over the stumps of its webbed fingers and right forearm, she lunged, pointing at it and all the blades shot forth, impaling, vibrating, and then flying through the body. They then retreated to the owner, ready to move on to the next foe.

Holy shit, that’s a blade dancer.

A squat man with a walking stick fought alone on another level. He stood so still the man almost looked like a statue. Only his moving lips gave him away. The ground seemed to vibrate around him. A giant quadripedal beast lunged from the shadows, moving so fast that Lukas failed to get a clear look at it. Stone spikes erupted from the ground and walls, blocking the attack and skewering the limb. It roared pulling back and swinging its tail at him. Spikes rose, trying to slow or catch the blow. The appendage broke through all that stood in its path, but each obstacle marginally slowed the assault. It was inches from him when it finally stopped.

The man finally moved, coming into the light. His wispy white hair, the wrinkles, and hunched back gave away his age. However, his speediness said otherwise. The man touched the bottom of his walking stick against the monster’s tails. It roared again as bony spikes burst from within its body. Much to Lukas’s disappointment the elevator descended further and he failed to see more of the confrontation.

What was the ability? Create spikes out of any touched surface? No. Hide. Flesh. Bunch of other tissue was in the way. Is he resonating with the minerals around him?

He didn’t get long to think about it. The descending platform finally stopped in a cavern significantly smaller than the ones above. Mushrooms twice as tall as him surrounded them. Their gills shone with a bright, almost nuclear, green glow.

“Shields up, boys,” Penelope said, her fingers dancing around the crystal caged by her staff. Wisps of azure flame blossomed from it and weaved between her fingers, growing with every heartbeat. “We’re not alone.”

Lukas caught rapid movement out of the corner of his eyes. He drew his shortsword and Elvis extended his weapon to the short-spear length. Both of them raised their shields and all three party members stood with their backs to each other, ready for whatever lurked in the shadows.