BOOK 12: CHAPTER 9: CONFIDENCE

9 – Confidence

Victor drifted on a wave of euphoria, thoughtless and content simply to be for a while. After a time, he allowed the gears of his mind to spin again and realized that his senses were overwhelmed, but he felt whole; the Energy infusion hadn’t rendered him comatose or helpless. If he tried, he could feel his body, but such concerns were far from his current focus. No, he’d become aware of a presence—one of great gravity, though familiar. When it sensed that he was aware of it, the presence drew closer, and a deep voice rumbled in Victor’s mind.

“You’ve grown stronger since last I gazed upon your valiant axe battles,” Golgothaz said, and, unlike his last visit, the ancient being’s voice felt closer, clearer, and less like an echo from a tremendous distance.

“Golgothaz,” Victor replied, surprising himself and the Master of the Axe.

“You speak! What a will you’ve cultivated! It shouldn’t be a surprise, I suppose; your fine axe wouldn’t love a weakling the way she dotes on you.”

Victor felt his facial muscles stretch into a smile. “You know Lifedrinker?”

“Hah! Among my peers, she’s a topic of interest. Hold tight to that one, young legend.”

“Legend?”

“What else would I name a fellow Master of the Axe? You’ve broken through to new understandings, have you not? The being you just vanquished was no weakling, yet you made him seem a novice with that masterful display!”

Victor put a hand to his chest, where Golgothaz had long ago marked him—a blessing of sorts that the master had claimed would help Victor find true mastery over his weapon. “So, I’ve done it?”

“Faster than the last hundred masters I’ve known. You were tricky, though, sharing the burden with your companion—two minds working together to find the perfect duet of motion. Still, how can I fault a man who properly loves an axe and treats her as an individual? With the help of your spirit, she can no longer be considered a tool, can she?”

Victor felt his eyebrows draw down, and his response was sharp. “I never saw her that way.”

Golgothaz’s low chuckle rumbled over Victor’s awareness. “No, lad. No, I suppose you didn’t.” Victor didn’t hear a sigh, but he felt the emotion of one as the Axe Master spoke again, “I visited you to offer my congratulations. You’ll find the Paragon far easier to call now that you’ve broken through. I wonder, will you find even greater heights? We’ll be watching…” His voice faded, and Victor had the sensation that Golgothaz was receding, pulling his awareness away, back to whatever corner of the universe he inhabited.

With a sensation of floating to the surface of a calm pool of water, Victor returned to reality, and when he opened his eyes, he could hardly see past the System messages queued up for him to view. Even so, he ignored them for a moment, pushing himself to a seated position and looking around.

The wind was blowing, and it carried with it dust and ash, but even so, the air was much clearer than when he’d last been conscious. He sat in a great depression that spanned a mile or more—a bowl of smooth ground, made so by his clash with the ancient, undead titan. Victor looked at the huge, dark skeleton, saw Lifedrinker still jutting from the giant skull, and chuckled. “Hope your feast was good, chica.”

He was still alone, so he wondered if he hadn’t been out very long. Then again, he wondered how far away the army was. Had they stayed close enough to observe the fight? With no answer forthcoming, he turned to the first string of System messages:

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 155. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Additionally, you’ve been awarded 40 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 156. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Additionally, you’ve been awarded 40 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 157. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Additionally, you’ve been awarded 40 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 158. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Additionally, you’ve been awarded 40 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 159. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Additionally, you’ve been awarded 40 unallocated attribute points.***

***Congratulations! You have advanced to level 160. Because of your current mantle, you’ve been awarded 20 will. Your feats have awarded you an additional 5 vitality. Additionally, you’ve been awarded 40 unallocated attribute points.***

He’d gained six levels, and for the first time since forming an epic mantle, his attribute points had been allocated differently. He’d never complain about more will, but he was exceedingly pleased to see that the rest of his points were unallocated; it meant more freedom to bolster the attributes that needed it down the road. Glancing at his status sheet, he saw that he now had 1220 available attribute points—significantly more than he had points in dexterity, agility, or intelligence.

Before he could get lost in contemplations about the wisdom of reserving so many points, he looked at the next System message:

***Congratulations! Your axe mastery skill has advanced to the Legendary tier.***

Victor snorted. No fanfare from the System, it seemed. He was suddenly more thankful that Golgothaz had taken the time to seek him out and congratulate him. Chuckling at the thought, he stretched his neck until it popped, then turned to the last message. He had no idea what it might be, so he eagerly pulled it into focus: Ṟ𝒶ƝǑBÈŚ

***Congratulations! Your actions and victories resonate beyond your current tier. Your senses brush the edge of an unseen boundary—pressure gathers where steel ends and the unknown begins. Few seekers approach this threshold without guidance. Maintain your focus; a path forward stirs in the Veil.***

“What’s this?” Victor asked, rubbing his head, speaking up to the sky. “Words of encouragement from the System? So maybe you aren’t holding a grudge over my rejection of your guidance.” He laughed, too thrilled to see his first real progress toward finding the “Veil” to do otherwise. Victor stood, jubilant over his many accomplishments and yearning for someone to share in his celebration. He walked over to the giant skeleton’s skull and grabbed hold of Lifedrinker’s haft. “We kicked some ass, beautiful.”

She slid smoothly from the bone, lighter than he remembered her—alive in his hand, an extension of his flesh. “I’ve had breakthroughs, my battle-heart. I see new ways to move—new ways to be.”

“You feel good in my hand, better than ever.” Victor held her aloft, realizing for the first time that he was standing at his full, natural height, and she was still a two-handed weapon. “Holy shit! You’re bigger!”

Lifedrinker buzzed with pleasure and affection. “At last, I understood how you unleash and constrain yourself. Thanks to the Energy and potent metals you’ve helped me to claim, I realized I could do the same.”

Victor laughed, holding her up, shaking her at the sky. “Yes! Hell, yes! Fucking glorious!” As he shook her above his head. Waving her left to right, the ghostly edge of the Paragon began to form, thin and transparent—far from fully there—but still, Victor could feel it, and he knew that a bit of purposeful axe-work would bring it into solid focus.

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“This axe spirit seeks to dance with us. I feel its thirsty yearning.”

Victor laughed. “I bet it does.”

The sounds of drums rumbling and the blare of horns told Victor his army was finally approaching. He looked down at himself, realized his scales were gone and he was half naked, and laughed again. He summoned some of his artifacts—his boots, crown—but rather than the rest of his armor, he was content to call forth one of his legion uniforms. It was finely made and comfortable, and, if he didn’t say so himself, it looked rather sharp on him.

As he finished buttoning up his shirt and slid his arms into his coat, he saw a blazing white orb streak into view over the lip of the crater and waved. It was Arona, flying like a living sunbeam toward him. She landed a few strides away, and when she got a good look at him, she arched an eyebrow and dryly asked, “Took a few minutes to clean up, did you?”

“Well, when I was swimming in the lava, I took off—”

“Swimming in lava?” She looked around. “Were you underground, then?”

“You didn’t see?”

She shook her head. “The dust and ash made it hard. The ground quaking…” She shrugged. “We moved the army further away, and a good thing, too. When the Death Caster unleashed his Energy…”

Victor frowned. Had it been that bad? Suddenly, he recalled the World Tree. With a thought, he summoned his magma-fueled wings and launched himself into the sky so he could see beyond the rim of the crater. Immediately, he saw it—something like a mile to the southwest. It was like a great, fallen skyscraper, stacked amid a shattered forest of branches. “Did it move?”

Arona, floating beside him, surrounded by her golden Energy, tilted her head as she tapped a nail against her chin. “Yes, and no. You’re not standing where you first began the battle, and that tree surely shifted with the quaking of the ground… Or, perhaps the great blasts of Energy.”

“Huh.” Victor lifted his gaze and looked north, past Arona. The army was approaching, marching steadily toward the blasted encampment. His tower still stood, but tents and temporary structures were scattered, piled against the fortifications. “Damn, we made a mess, didn’t we?” He still held Lifedrinker in his hands and contemplated sending her into his spirit space, then he reconsidered; it would be nice to have her in hand while he addressed the troops.

“I would say so. That skeleton—it’s Dragomir?”

“It’s what’s left of him, yeah.” Victor narrowed his eyes at her. “Hey, did you all get some Energy?”

She smiled one of her rare, full smiles and nodded. “Oh yes. I gained two levels, and I wasn’t alone. Most of the troops, even newer recruits, celebrated a level.”

Victor poured a little Energy into his wings, flying slowly toward the army. “That’s awesome. As for me, I got a few, too, but there’s more. I had a new insight—a message from the System. I’ll tell you about it.”

“When?” she asked, swooping past him, facing backward so she could look into his face.

“After I address the troops. I’m going to give them a week off—after they fix the camp! Meanwhile, we’ll plan the direction our armies should take.”

“Straight away? Hadn’t you mentioned visiting Sojourn?”

“Oh, I’m still going, but the armies can get prepared to invade the next continent. The only question is which one.”

“It’s in question? I thought we were going east?”

Victor smiled at her, then poured more Energy into his wings, significantly increasing his speed. “We’ll talk after the celebration starts! Arona, I just defeated a real veil walker—not a weakling like those we’ve been dealing with up until now! Let’s get drunk!”

###

When Victor walked up the stairs to the top of his tower the next day, Arona was already there, poring over the map. It was nearly noon; he hadn’t needed the sleep nor had he had a hangover—he was pretty much immune to mundane poisons—but he’d enjoyed the rest and the chance to dream. In fact, he’d hoped that he’d run into Tes on the plane of dreams, but he’d had no such luck.

Before walking over to Arona, he stepped out onto the parapet and looked over the camp. It was mostly back in order, though the tent rows were certainly more relaxed than usual. Victor didn’t begrudge the sergeants being lax. The soldiers had wanted to celebrate, and, by the looks of things, they were still at it. He smiled, inhaling deeply and enjoying the fresh air as he looked from one gathering of soldiers to another, straining his ears to hear their music and laughter. Many were drunk, but with an Energy-rich army, a party could easily go on for days—much longer if the leaders allowed.

He turned back to Arona. “Not in a partying mood?”

She shook her head, still staring at the map. “Trying to discern the meaning of your words yesterday.”

“Which words were those?”

“About where the army should go—which continent.”

Victor smiled, stepping over to the table and watching her trace lines with her finger.

She tapped the western edge of the Eastern continent. “Our scouts believe another Great Master might be in control of this territory.”

He grunted an acknowledgement, then gestured at the figurines representing Lesh’s and Bryn’s armies. “How are they doing on the western coast?”

“Both armies have a city under siege. Both believe their victory is nigh.”

“And then we’ll have fully conquered this continent.”

Arona nodded.

“And we’ve heard not a peep from this guy.” Victor tapped the continent-sized island at the center of the blue-painted ocean—the presumed home of Xelhuan.

“True, but we always anticipated poor cooperation among the undead lords.”

“Kind of dumb, isn’t it, considering we’re picking them apart, one by one?” Victor folded his arms while he stroked his chin, scratching the short stubble there.

“Foolish, short-sighted, stubborn—who could know their motives?”

“Well, answer me this. What do you think would happen if we went here”—Victor stabbed his finger at the spot on the eastern continent she’d just pointed out—“and I got in a fight with this Great Master and then”—he thumped Xelhuan’s continent—“this guy came to help?”

“If Xelhuan helped a Great Master against you?” Arona shook her head. “Despite yesterday’s victory, I think there would be trouble for you.”

“To put it lightly.” Victor chuckled. “Until yesterday, I fought lesser lords—veil walkers, yeah, but not the kinds of veil walkers who create mile-wide craters with their spells. Not the kinds who stand up to me in an axe fight. There’s a chance we disturbed old Xelhuan yesterday. Or, if he didn’t notice the battle, there’s a good chance word of it will get to him. I have a feeling he wouldn’t have been impressed by my victory over Fausto. Killing Dragomir, though? That would get his attention.”

Arona pressed her lips together as she stared up into his eyes. After a moment, she shook her head. “What are you saying? We should stop?”

Victor reached over the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “No, my dear friend. I’m saying we might want to go straight for Xelhuan now. I don’t care if the other Great Masters help each other. I do care if Xelhuan helps one of them against me. Once he’s out of the picture, the rest of this conquest will be a mop-up.”

Arona slowly nodded. “I agree. It’s hard to imagine that he wouldn’t have sensed Dragomir’s defeat. It also means that he’d be a significant threat to have at our backs as we advance. However, we don’t know that he’d come to the aid of another Great Master. We also don’t know that you’re ready for that challenge. Did you gain so much from slaying that undead titan?”

Victor squeezed her shoulder gently before letting his hand drop. “I gained a handful of levels, yeah, but that’s not all. I can feel it now.”

“Feel what, Victor?” Arona leaned over the table, her eyes widening as she stared.

“The Veil. It’s like a…pressure. I can’t see it yet. I don’t know how to get at it or pierce it, but it’s there. I’m pressing against it. I feel ideas in the back of my mind—like, if I can spend some time on my mantle… I’ll figure something out. I just know it.” Victor paused, looking down and pacing the length of the table. “So, that, and then this thing in Sojourn.”

“What are you planning? Can’t you tell me more?”

Victor nodded. “Oh, I can. You’re coming along. I’m going to get Bryn and Lesh over here with their armies. While they excavate that tree and dig up Dragomir’s lair, they’ll continue to train and drill the army. They’ll build a citadel here, and when we return, we’ll set up gateways to Xelhuan’s shore. We’ll conquer a beachhead, and you and I will drive the miasma away from it.”

Arona’s voice was a whisper. “Will we be ready?”

Victor grinned. “Yes, because we’re going to pierce the veil.”

She sighed, clicking her tongue. “You’re so confident. I believe you will, especially if you can feel it now, but me, Victor? What made you include me in that statement?”

“Well, the way I see it, the best way to grow is to take on challenges, and you and I are about to take on a big one.”

“This seems one of those old riddles involving a serpent and an egg—which was first? I know we must defeat Xelhuan, and I know the challenge will help us to improve, but don’t we need to improve before we face him?”

Victor laughed, shaking his head. “No, not Xelhuan. You and me? We’re going to upend the Sojourn City Council.”

If Arona’s eyes had been wide before, now they practically bulged from the sockets. “Are you mad? You and I against nine of the most powerful veil walkers in this corner of the universe? Any one of them might be just as strong as Xelhuan!”

“Is Vesavo?” Arona’s old master had recently taken one of the nine consul seats.

She started to answer, but her voice caught in her throat, and she slowly closed her mouth, considering the question. After a moment, she held up her finger and said, “Perhaps not. What I felt from Dragomir was…more than I’ve ever felt from Vesavo. I’m not saying that my old master isn’t more dangerous—he is cunning and cruel beyond reason—but Dragomir might have been stronger. It goes without saying that Xelhuan would be.”

“So you see—” Victor started to say, but Arona cut him off.

“But Vesavo is not the strongest veil walker in Sojourn—not remotely. Roil, Kreshta Griss, Rexa—their powers are legendary. Lady Rexa is cousin to a Queen of the Fae!”

“Listen, Arona,” Victor smiled, shaking his head. “I don’t intend for you and me to go and battle them all. More than half of them will be on our side, once they see how things are going to shake out.”

She tilted her head in disbelief. “Truly? But why would they?”

Victor clapped his hands together, rubbing them, as he replied, “Well, it all goes back to the Iron Prison. You remember Ronkerz, right?”