Free Tier - Accidental Champion (Book 6) - Chapter 8 - A Party of Denizens

The Old One stood on the observation deck of his starship as it slowly moved through the different sectors of the Greater Universe.

The Old One didn’t marvel at what he’d seen, for he had seen much in the time that he’d been alive. Still, he couldn’t help but stare out of the clear window at the sights before him.

In all his tiame being alive, he hadn’t ventured this far from his sector before. Once, there was a time that he had gone to the very edges of space, where the System was just integrating new worlds.

He became an invader. He claimed dungeon after dungeon. This was a time when world restrictions were not always the norm. A time when the System had let people do what they would with the different worlds that became integrated.

The Old One had gained much power in those days, at an incredibly rapid pace.

But that had been a very long time ago. He hadn’t come to the edges of space for several billion years, and the System had spread outward into the universe a significant amount since then.

Which meant that all he saw was, in a way, new to him.

He’d seen all these things in one form or another, but they still held some novelty to him.

Now, it came time to look upon Xavier Collins once more.

The Old One shut his eyes. Few in the Greater Universe had the ability to observe others at such a distance—and the Old One could, if he knew what he was looking for, even see to different universes. That was how he had observed Xavier Collins back on the tenth floor.

He blinked, his eyes widening.

What in the hell was the young Denizen doing there?

“The idiot is going to get himself killed,” the Old One muttered.

A thrill ran through the Old One at what he was seeing. It hadn’t been that long since he had last observed the young Denizen, and yet it appeared that so much had changed already.

He could go there. The Old One had the means to travel anywhere he wished—at least, within this universe. He had taken the starship so make the travel slow—to see every part of the universe. A universe that he could very well claim, if he wished. The journey would help him wait until Xavier Collins had advanced further.

He’s not even in the Silver River sector anymore.

The Old One had anticipated that at some point, Xavier would leave his home sector. But he hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.

And he hadn’t expected the boy to travel to one of Demonica’s Hell Moons!

A worry settled inside of him. The Old One knew better than any how the Greater Universe functioned—that this universe was only one of many. That the ultimate task the System wished to achieve was to save it. To save every iteration of the universe.

He also knew that hadn’t yet been accomplished.

If Xavier Collins pushed himself too far, too fast, the boy might perish. The Old One was becoming more and more sure that this young Denizen was his universe’s hope.

But that hope could be snuffed out in a millisecond if he wasn’t careful.

A warning… I could send him a warning through Adranial…

Only, he didn’t know that his interference would be the right course of action. He wanted to offer the Denizen help, but so far he hadn’t needed it.

The Old One felt something he hadn’t for a very, very long time. Nervous, and unsure. It had been many years since he’d not known what the right course of action was to take—decisiveness was important if you wanted to live as long as he had.

The feeling did something else he hadn’t expected; it made him smile. It was good to feel something so novel as nervousness after all this time.

The Old One produced two items—in his left hand he held a Communication Stone. The one that linked him to Adranial. In his right hand he held a Universal Travel Key. That could take him to the boy in an instant.

He tilted his head to the side.

A warning in person… That would have quite the effect.

The Hell Moons were no place for a D Grade, no matter how powerful he was. Certainly they were no place for a D Grade without sponsorship—anyone could kill him.

I have offered him sponsorship before. He refused it. But that had been a test… That had been on my terms…

The Old One shut his eyes and released a sigh. He closed his fists around the items and returned them both to his Storage Ring.

He would have to do the hardest thing he could—he would have to stand by and do nothing.

If he dies, the universe is doomed. But if he is coddled… The same thing might happen.

It was a balance he simply didn’t know how to strike.

Strange, to feel so uncertain at his age. Strange, yet invigorating.

~

Xavier stood in the entrance chamber to the Hell Moon Thazamar and stared at the four Denizens across from him.

They were an interesting mix.

The first of them was human. He wore dark black armour and carried a great sword in both hands that was taller than him. He didn’t wear a helm—or, at least, the helm that he possessed was one of those transparent ones that revealed a person’s face. His black hair was tied into a bun close to his scalp. He looked like some sort of dark paladin.

The second member of the party was an elven woman wearing blood red robes. Runes shifted and danced on those robes. He recognised one or two of them—they had to do with blood and sacrifice. She had a sharp sort of beauty and a severe visage.

The third and fourth members of the party were… demonkin. Xavier hadn’t encountered their like for some time. A male and female, one wore the white robes of a healer, while the other had light leather armour and a vicious looking bow made from bone. The demonkin had small horns on their heads but otherwise looked human. He’d first come across them back on the fifth floor.

It made him wonder—were they actually demons, like the other demons in this place? Or were they further removed from them, like how Xavier wasn’t a dragon, even though he was a dragonkin?

It was a question he doubted the two of them would wish to answer.

He did a quick scan of each of them, but—predictably—he wasn’t able to scan their levels.

Though they were different races, the four of them had something in common on their armour and robes—they each bore a symbol. The symbol was that of a warhammer gilded in flames. Xavier wasn’t sure what the significance of that symbol was.

The human in dark armour stepped forward, though the elf gave him a cautioning look as he did. He didn’t so much as look back at her—it was clear he was the head of their little party. The way he walked and held himself screamed arrogance.

Xavier stood stock still. He wasn’t sure what the protocol here was.

He spoke to Rhaalir through their connection.

I’m at the entrance to Thazamar and have encountered a party of Denizens. He described the symbol each of them were wearing.

Xavier could simply portal away, but he was curious. Very curious. His Time Alteration spell had only recently ceased, so he wasn’t in a position to use that.

Maybe, if it did come to a fight, he could stall them long enough for the cooldown to reach its end.

The dark-haired man looked him up and down. “D Grade?” He sneered, looked behind Xavier. “And you are here all by your lonesome.” He tilted his head to one side. “How… Interesting.”

Xavier raised an eyebrow. The man would have scanned him and seen the details of the swordsman class he’d had grafted to his soul. Even if the man had seen Xavier’s actual class, it would have shown him as a D Grade, too.

Not that that showed any hint of his true power.

Still, the fact that the man sneered at his grade meant the party was at least C Grade. The last group of C Grades Xavier had faced had been difficult to defeat at first, but he’d managed it.

But they were not from this side of the universe. They were not, as Rhaalir called them, true C Grades.

Xavier had to assume these four were. Not only that, they could be B Grades for all he knew.

“Yes,” Xavier said. “I’m here alone.” He opened his hands. “And I’m no threat to you.”

The elven woman raised an eyebrow as the dark paladin laughed.

“Of course you pose no threat,” the man said. He wiped a tear from his eye.

The symbols depict their sponsor, Rhaalir replied. They show what high-grade Denizen supports them. A safeguard when in unclaimed territories.

“He doesn’t have a sponsor,” the elf said. “Strange to find an unsponsored here. He might not be what he seems.”

Xavier smiled. He schooled his expression and his posture, showing no fear or doubt, standing as causally as he could.

The demonkin mage’s eyes turned white for a moment before returning to normal. “Class Graft. Strong one.” She inclined her head. “I will not pierce it.”

Something in the way she said that made it sound like it was possible for her, but it would be bad form. Xavier knew they were speaking out loud for his benefit. A party like this would have a way of communicating to one another telepathically.

The dark paladin looked Xavier up and down, settling his gaze on the helmet that obscured his face. “Hmm. That is interesting. Unsponsored. Hiding your identity.” A small amount of caution seemed to enter the man as the wheels in his mind seemed to turn. He took a step back. “Maybe you are not what I first thought.”

“Again, I’m no threat. Simply here to train.”

The party looked from one to another.

Do you know who might sponsor them? Xavier asked Rhaalir.

No. I don’t recognise what you described. And even if I did, this isn’t my universe. The knowledge I have about them would be unreliable.

Xavier could use Otherworldly Communion. He’d recently gained a level. He could no doubt find out who sponsored them that way—but he supposed it didn’t really matter. Whoever it was would be considerably more powerful than himself.

He wouldn’t want to incur their wrath whoever they were.

“We should leave him be,” the elven woman said. She raised her chin. The look she gave him was piercing. “Anyone venturing to a Hell Moon in disguise with no sponsor visible isn’t someone we wish to piss off.”

The dark paladin sniffed. “We’re after the 1,000 clear on the First Descent. If you do not get in our way, we will not get in yours.” He touched a hand to the symbol on his chest, of the warhammer gilded with flames. “Something tells me you do not want to piss of Jhanku by tangling with us.”

Xavier spoke to Romalda through the Communication Stone. [Have you ever heard of someone called Jhanku?]

Romalda: [Oh gods, is Jhanku here? What the hell did you do, Xavier?]

The fear was evident in here voice even through the communication stone.

Xavier: [I’ll take that as a yes. And I haven’t done anything. Not yet, anyway.] He quickly explained the situation.

Romalda: [Jhanku is one of the most powerful Denizens in the universe. He’s A Grade. Rules over ten thousand sectors. You don’t want to mess with anyone sponsored to him.]

Ten thousand sectors.

Xavier suddenly felt very, very small. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t heard of Denizens that powerful, or contemplated them before, but still—he knew if he handled this chance meeting poorly, it would backfire.

But he didn’t want to fight these people.

“I was planning on doing the same,” Xavier said. “I won’t get in your way.” He paused, an idea forming in his mind. Why, when he encountered strangers, did he instantly think they would be his enemy? The last thing he wished to do was fight these people, but chances were they were considerably stronger than him, and they definitely had connections to people who were stronger than him.

Getting 1,000 clears on every descent on Thazamar—let alone all three Hell Moons—sounded like a difficult feat.

Xavier had no idea how far down he would be able to make it through the descents before it simply became too difficult for him to keep moving forward.

He wanted to clear those later descents by himself. Wanted to solo them—soloing a descent, like soloing a tower floor—wasn’t just a point of pride for Xavier, it was a necessity. The challenges he put himself through by doing it in that way were what forced him to adapt.

But the adaptions he could make on the first twenty-nine descents were minimal. Very minimal. Especially with how far he’d come with clearing the Thirtieth Descent a thousand times. Clearing all of them a thousand times, while he knew was necessary, felt very tedious.

An idea formed in his mind.

“How much time do the four of you plan on spending here?” Xavier asked.

The four party members looked a little confused by the question. “I suppose there is no harm in sharing that. We plan to be here for at least a year.” The dark paladin jutted his chin. “We intend to travel deep.”

Xavier smiled. “What if it didn’t take as long as you expected?”

From what Rhaalir had told him, about armies being able to clear the different descents, he knew that it didn’t have to be a party to clear a descent—you just had to ensure you dealt damage to one of the enemies on the descent to gain credit for clearing one of them.

Which meant allying with these four Denizens might work to all of their advantages.

“What exactly are you offering?” the dark paladin asked.

The elven woman stepped forward, then, right in front of the dark-haired man. Her red robes shimmered as she walked, billowing slightly in the wind. Her gaze was just as piercing as ever as she stared at him.

Xavier’s assumption about the man being the leader of this party seemed to be off.

It’s her. She’s the one in charge.

“Time,” the woman said, tasting the word. “Do you have mastery over time?”

Xavier inclined his head. “To a degree.” He looked over at the entrance to the Hell Moon. “I intend to gain the 1,000 clear for several floors.” He cracked his neck. “Maybe it won’t be so bad having a little company.”

“A time mercenary,” the paladin muttered. “There are downsides to such things.”

“Our spell cooldowns. They won’t function, will they?” the demonkin mage asked.

Xavier shook his head. “No. They won’t.” He opened his hands. “You don’t have to take me up on this offer.”

Xavier wondered if this was the right course of action to take. Patience. He had that in spades. He very well knew that he could go through every descent and clear them each a thousand times by himself, but he was beginning to realise there was an advantage in gaining allies.

The universe was a large and dangerous place. He didn’t want to contract himself to anyone—didn’t want to gain a sponsor himself—but doing something to help ensure his safety in a place like this…

It seemed well worth the effort.

I have to assume the four of them are more powerful than me. Teaming up with them, even briefly, will allow me to know just how powerful they are.

If his assumption was right about how much more powerful this party was—and Xavier was thinking that each of them might very well be as strong as Empress Larona, if not close to it—then it would also be an amazing opportunity for him to see just how far he had to go.

Xavier hadn’t been taking the threat of someone dangerous turning up in this place seriously enough. He bore no symbol proclaiming who his sponsor was, which meant anyone could kill him without worrying about repercussions.

And they might very well do it just for sport.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, having a team of C Grades—or B Grades, he didn’t know what Grade these people were—around to back him up if he should get into any real trouble.

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