Chapter 23 - Fusion

The next day, Renji and Alina found themselves in the living room of Elith’s mansion—the same chamber where they had first met her. Neria was also present, arms folded as she leaned casually against the wall.

Spread across the long table lay assorted gear: bracers, a couple of shirts, a shortsword, and a staff.

“These were made from the monster drops you brought back a month ago,” Elith said. “They are yours to keep.”

Neria introduced the gear on the table. “The shirts are made from wyvern hide. They’ll protect you from physical attacks to a degree. You both get one.”

Renji picked his up, running his hand across the scaled texture. Lighter than it looked, but solid. Alina pressed hers to her chest, the faint smile on her lips betraying how precious the gift felt.

Neria tapped the bracers next. “Bracers for Renji, Earthdrake scale. They’ll turn aside even the keenest blade.”

Renji slid one onto his forearm, flexing his wrist. He gave an approving nod.

Neria picked up the shortsword and tossed it to Renji. “Wyvern tail blade. It’ll poison your foes after you cut them.”

Renji caught it smoothly, drawing the ivory-white blade. Its curved edge gleamed, reminiscent of a wakizashi. “Beautiful work.”

Elith smiled faintly. “We also reinforced your hellhound cloaks with salamander hide. They will resist fire now, to a degree.”

Finally, Elith lifted the staff—a simple design of polished wood. At its tip, an elongated blue gem glimmered faintly, its base wrapped in a gold clasp. She held it out to Alina. “This is for you, Alina. It should work much better for focusing your magic.”

Alina accepted it with both hands, her eyes shining as she studied it from end to end. “Thank you… this means so much.”

Renji frowned slightly. “Are you sure it’s all right? You’ve already done so much for us.”

“Think nothing of it. You provided the materials. Our artisans were eager to work with them.” Elith continued, “And besides, it was the will of the Great Spirit that we assist you on your quest. Perhaps he sees a kindred soul within you, coming from the same world.”

“Besides,” Neria added, her smirk returning, “there’s a reason you’re receiving these gifts now.”

A new female voice interrupted from the doorway.

“You have been training for almost a month now. We think it’s time to put what you’ve learned to the test.”

Alina and Renji turned around to see a familiar face enter the room.

“Miss Celia!” Alina exclaimed, running forward. She flung her arms around the elven apothecary, who giggled softly and returned the embrace.

“Looks like you’ve been well, Alina.”

“Yes, everyone’s been good to us here,” Alina said, smiling warmly.

Elith’s tone was flat. “Nice of you to join us, Celia. How long has it been since you set foot on Forty?”

“I thought I’d drop by to see how the two strays were doing,” Celia responded playfully as she entered the room.

Renji offered a slight bow. “Miss Celia. You look well.”

“So do you, Renji. Ever so stiff,” Celia teased with a smirk. “Though it seems your training went well. Your blood vessels didn’t explode.”

Renji blinked. “Exploded?”

“Didn’t I tell you?” Celia covered her mouth, chuckling. “That’s what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten your magic essence under control.”

Renji gulped.

Elith cut in. “You left these two with us for a month. Why show up now?”

“My, my, dear Elith. It’s all according to the Great Spirit’s will, is it not?” Celia continued. While her tone remained playful, her eyes held a spark of seriousness. “They’re ready for the next step. That’s why I’m here.”

Renji and Alina looked at each other, then at Celia. “Next step?”

“Let’s call it… taking your training to the next level.” She paused, her eyes narrowing with purpose. “I’m taking you to the Frontlines—where heroes are forged… or broken.”

“The Frontlines?” Renji asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Floor Sixty,” Neria replied, her tone serious. “The lowest-level settlement, holding back the monster horde.”

Renji blinked, his mind flashing back to deployments at Forward Operating Bases overseas—a sensation both familiar and unpleasant. An FOB usually meant heightened security, peppered with death and casualties.

Elith stepped forward, her movements deliberate and graceful, and offered two dark green stones to Alina and Renji. “Here, take these.”

The duo exchanged a quick glance before carefully examining the stones in their palms. Renji ran his thumb across the smooth surface, tracing the etching of a tree. The World Tree, I assume.

“These will allow you to teleport to Floor Forty,” Elith explained. “Only elves and their trusted allies have these.”

“Very handy. Thank you. It’s an honour,” Renji said, his tone grateful but tinged with uncertainty. “I’m guessing this is how the elves travel to this floor, given the portals don’t allow access.” Renji’s voice straddled the line between a question and a statement.

“That’s correct,” Elith nodded. “Channel your magic essence into it to trigger the spell,” she explained.

“Understood.” Renji pocketed the stone.

“Rest up and pack your things,” Celia said finally, her usual calm smile returning. “We leave in two days.”

Neria, Alina, and Renji left Elith’s home, strolling along the streets of Elaron.

The weight of the earlier conversation settled on Renji’s shoulders. Frontlines? More battles, more death… Just to get back… Delving deeper into this Labyrinth. War is commonplace even in other worlds. There is still so much I don’t know about this world.

He sighed, uneasy in his familiarity with war and death.

Alina noticed Renji lost in thought. “Renji? Something on your mind?”

“Huh?” Renji shook his head. “Nothing important, don’t worry about it.”

Alina pouted. “Again with that line. You’re like a thought vault.”

***

Meanwhile, that same morning, on Floor Twenty, at Duke Thorval’s mansion.

Vaerina rolled out of bed and donned a silken robe draped loosely over her lithe frame. Rovan propped himself up on the bed with his elbows.

“Starting early today?” he asked.

“Yes, my dear Rovan. Much to do.”

She crossed to her desk and drew out a golden sceptre and a light-green orb, the latter pulsing faintly in her hand.

“You’re going to do it today?” Rovan asked, eyeing it warily.

“Yes, finally,” she said in a satisfied tone. “Once complete, making the golems endure will be as simple as a flick of the wrist.”

“How will you do it?”

“Get dressed. You should see it happen.”

They made their way to a vast chamber beneath Duke Thorval’s mansion. An intricate magic array was carved into the stone floor. Seated in a circle around it were about fifty human slaves and prisoners, shackled at wrist and neck, their iron collars linked together by chains.

Vaerina stepped into the heart of the array, the Verdant Orb in one hand and the Dusk Sceptre in the other.

“Wretched Spirit of the Labyrinth,” she intoned, “I will come for you.”

The array flared. The sceptre and Orb lifted from her grasp, hovering above her. The slaves screamed as their life force was ripped from them in streams of pale red light, funneling into the sceptre. One by one, their cries dwindled to silence as their bodies collapsed lifelessly onto the stone.

Rovan clamped a hand over his mouth, torn between anguish and awe.

Vaerina pressed her hands together, forcing the two artifacts closer. They resisted, shuddering, as though an invisible barrier lay between them.

“As expected,” she murmured with a smirk, then unleashed a piercing cry.

Around the circle, mounds of magic crystals cracked and splintered, unleashing waves of raw essence into the array. The Orb’s pulsating glow flared violently, streaks of emerald power lashing against the walls. The relics inched closer.

Vaerina raised her arms, voice rising above the roar. “From light and shadow, from growth and dusk, I bind you!”

A beam of emerald fire shot from the Orb into the waiting rod. The chamber quaked as crystals exploded, their essence spent. Cracks split the floor and walls, dust raining from above.

With a deafening crack, the artifacts fused. The Orb’s radiance sank into the rod, leaving a light-green gem embedded at its crown.

“You can control the Orb’s power?” Rovan asked, still reeling from the display.

“With the Dusk Sceptre you brought me. Merged together, the Orb’s energy bends to my will.” She gazed at the fused relic, her eyes glittering.

“The possibilities are endless. Thorval, that fool, is going to have the most unpleasant surprise. And when the other Dukes see what I’ve created, they’ll tremble.” Her laughter rang sharp and cold.

“Wasn’t there another way to do this?”

She turned, her smile vanishing, eyes hard. “What are you saying now, after all we’ve done? This wretched Labyrinth has chained us long enough. I will see it shattered, whatever the cost.”

She lingered, fingers brushing the newly-fused relic, before setting it aside. Her voice dropped to a whisper, thick with malice.

“Let them call me heretic, monster, tyrant. It won’t matter. The Orb bows to me—so will the world. But first, the Great Spirit. I will have my vengeance.”