It would be hard to find anyone who hasn't heard of Saint Iscaron in some way. Either through word of mouth or the countless stories detailed in books older than the entire kingdom.
Saint Iscaron was the Saint of Magic. A 'Saint' being the term used to denote someone who has reached level 15. A feat that is almost impossible and has not been achieved again by anyone in centuries.
There is supposedly only 3 saints currently left in existence and they are hundreds of years old. The youngest being Stryga, the Saint of Light, who has served the Grand at the Shield Wall for almost 200 years.
The other two being Hlvothmora, the Saint of Witches. And Barda, the Saint of Beasts.
The Saint of Beasts in fact is said to be the oldest and the highest level in the world at level 17. But no one has confirmed it. And no one has been able to try as it would require a [Scout] of atleast level 14 and even that is nearly impossible.
But the legends say that Iscaron was the only human in history to reach the apex level of 20. And with it he lead the old Sheperd Saints and humanity to creating the Grand Kingdom. And he was the greatest asset against the Demon Kings when they began to plague the continent.
And I guess I know now that he sacrificed his life to seal humanities ancient enemy away. Plugging up the crater that acted as the entrance to the Hells with an expansive tower constructed with holy magic and held together by his own soul.
"Or…at least that's what the Church says." Thorpe ends off his explanation, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.
"And you had to go down there…" My voice trail's off, leaving the question more rhetorical than any thing but he nods solemnly all the same.
"There was no way we'd be able to get the whole army down there and the Lapse is basically the most dangerous Labrynth in the world. It would be a much different battlefield. And it definitely was." Thorpe reaches into his pack and pulls out his pipe that he holds between his teeth, filling it with his usual herbs. He lights it with twig from the fire and gives a few puffs from it before continuing. "In the lapse there would be demon spawn unlike anything we had faced before AS WELL as likely multiple Chimera just like Man-Bear. So we didn't need an army….we needed a specialized task force. Elite only. People who can take on larger numbers and stronger spawn."
My face brightened. "And you were picked?"
Thorpe takes a deep breath. "Yes and no. 40 of the best [Royal Guard] were picked out and I was one of them but it wasn't mandatory…it was an offer."
My smile faded as I realized the implication. "Oh…I see."
It's not hard to figure out that what they were being offered was high reward with a higher likelyhood of death. Even higher than it likely already was. I mean they were basically asking them to venture into hell itself and truly fight things beyond their capabilities.
The old man took a few puffs from his pipe. "After all that was said and done…32 of us joined in for the venture. I was given the rank of captain and was awarded this spear from the Shield Walls armory. A couple others got similar ones for their service as well." He says, petting the shaft of the spear laying against his shoulder. "Two of the low born Royals who had been our Commanders volunteered as well. Giving as about as best of a chance as we could. Baron Ahdelo and Dame Savarian. Savarian was my Commander through most of the war so I trusted her a lot. As did everyone in our company. She was an old hard ass but she got us through a lot and killed almost as many spawn by herself as we did as a group." The old man chuckles.
Dame Savarian sounds incredible and I want to ask about her more but judging how she was mentioned in past tense it might hit a sore spot too early.
The smoke from Thorpes pipe was getting dense as he dragged on it for longer inhales. "Apart from 32 [Royal Guard], we had 20 [Paladin]'s, 13 [Cleric]'s, and about 40 somethin high level Mercenaries that the Kingdom had collected. All of them were lead by a [Witch] who didn't give her name…wore a lot of black gowns and lace…big hat obviously…a bit of a deeper voice than expected but she was friendly enough. And without her we would have never gotten to the bottom."
I instantly leaned forward fast enough that it felt like my brain had to catch up with me. "A [Witch]! Did you see her do magic?" I ask a little too excitedly. Most people have only ever heard of magic but have never actually seen it. I know that [Cleric]'s can kinda do it but that's mostly healing rituals.
But [Witch]'s and [Mage]'s can supposedly do things like cast elemental magic! Balls of fire and showers of ice!
Old Guard smirks. "Yes yes I saw her do magic. And it is just as flashy as I expected." He admits with a chuckle. "I had never met a caster before either until her. Seen plenty of Holy spells and the like but they are a lot more subtle and ritualistic mostly. Saint Stryga did call down lightning once I think…it was storming at the time though."
The old man scratches the top of his head. "But there was one floor of the Lapse where we were bein overrun." He shudders at the memory. "Demons that looked like giant locusts mixed with lizards. I can still hear the chirping when I sleep…Thought the whole raid was going to end there but then the entire floor lit up orange when a shower of flames came down like hale and wiped out more than half of them."
My eyes widen. An entire half of an army of demons wiped out in seconds. "I wonder if I can do magic…" I say, staring down at my hands as if their about to glow with magical power. But unfortunately they do not.
The old man reaches out to pat my shoulder and gives me an apologetic look. "I don't know kiddo. Again…I don't want to get your hopes up. We have noidea what skills you'll get until it happens." He leans back and puts his pipe back between his teeth. "Also one of the main reasons I wanted to come out here so we could try to get you a new monster skill."
Yeah I figure with what I'm capable of so far I'm probably not going to get anything like magic. And like Thorpe said, being able to get monsters skills is pretty cool already. And I should be able to get one more judging by what the passive skill says. But it just hasn't happened. Not really sure what the trigger for it is.
But putting that aside for now. I look back up to Thorpe as he's blowing out another column of dense smoke. "So what happened down there? Obviously you guys succeeded…right?"
Old Guard nodded slowly. "We did yes. And Saint Stryga repaired the seal."
The old man was quiet for a moment as he took one last puff from his pipe and began to empty it out of the spent herbs. "I have seen plenty Labrynths in my years as a Merc. But nothing compares to what I experienced in the Lapse…"
He slips the old pipe back into his pack and sets his attention on me fully. "Labrynths or Catacombs or dungeons. Different people call them different things. But what we all know is that they are essentially just ruins left behind by the people before us. Before humans appeared on the Grand."
"Those ones atleast make sense…they are structures that were built by hands. They have rythmn to them. They can be mapped." Shaking his head. "But the Lapse is apparently entirely constructed by magic. And it definitely shows…"
The old man rubs at his temples as the memories resurface. "The tower was already massive but it was far larger on the inside. Couldn't tell you how many floors there were. We lost track of time. Felt like years. Nothing made sense. Every corner was a maze. Lost too many people just trying to navigate. Complete madness…"
Thorpe thredded his fingers together in front of him with his elbows on his knees. "Even Saint Stryga and the [Witch] were effected by it. But we kept moving. Kept fighting. Don't even remember sleeping…chimera were everywhere."
He takes a deep breath. "By the time we made it to the bottom we were running on just pure adrenaline. The 32 [Royal Guard] I had come with had been reduced to just 7 including myself. Only 4 of the [Paladin]'s were left and just 1 [Cleric]. The Mercs faired a bit better. Still had about 17 or so of them and they were pulling alot of weight."
"But the deeper we went the more nonsensical it became. The more we had trouble keeping track of where we were going or even WHY." The old man's eyes started to get distant. "It was like we had been turned delirious…working on pure instinct. Everything shifting and changed as we moved, never stopping. No walls or floors anymore. Just wavering colors. No rhyme or reason. Don't even remember when we got to the bottom." His hands start trembling. "Couldn't tell you if half the things we killed down there were real or not. Only semblance of their existence was the cold splashes of demons blood over me with each stab or swing. Everything just felt automatic. Like I wasn't in control of myself but I just kept going. Kept moving. Kept fighting. Until it all just…suddenly stopped…"
At this point my body had frozen up, staring at Old Guard with a mixture of fascination and horror. "It just…stopped?" I ask quietly.
Thorpe finally seemed to snap out of the haze he was in. Rubbing at his temples. "Yeah…just sort of…woke up…I guess." Giving a deep shrug. "Next thing I knew we were standing in a dark cavern ontop of a massive circular stone platform covered in strange runes. Bodies of demons piled up around us. Misshapen and twisted. None of them looked like anything recognizable anymore." The old man shudders at the memory. "True demons have gold blood so we were caked in the stuff…everyone was suddenly aware of how exhausted they were…collapsing like our strings had been cut."
Thorpe snorts. "Couldn't even move once I was on the ground…we had to stay down there for awhile to rest and make sure the seal was properly fixed."
I tilt my head curiously. "What about the Demon Lord?"
The old man sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Saint Stryga and the Witch fought it but it escaped back into the crack before they could kill it."
"After that things went pretty fast. Some of us were too wounded to move and had to be carried back up to the surface. A journey that felt like ages heading down but heading back up only took about a day and a half. The vast world that we fought and died in were gone, replaced by a simple stone tower." The old man shook his head solemnly. "Made it feel bittersweet. And it didn't help that once we got to the surface and back into the welcoming arms of the Grand Armies camp. We had been told that we were only gone for a couple of days."
Old Guard reached up and unclasped the chain from his neck, holding out the pendant of the black money piece for me to see. Letting it be bathed in the light of the fire. "Obsidian grows where demons live. The Saint had us collect some on the way back up. And once we were back at the capital a few months later the King had a smith break it down and turn it into these."
I reached over and gingerly take it from his hand. Examining the smooth surface. It's material swallowing the light and shining nothing back. "Is this…actual money?"
"Yes and no. The King did a [Ritual of Worth] on them. Which is how all of our money is made. So it does have inherent value. It's worth about 5 Platinum."
My eyes widen and I feel a wave of nausea pass over me. Now realizing I have in my hands more than the annaual budget of a city. "That's…a lot…" Slowly handing it back over.
Thorpe chuckles and shakes his head, taking the black money piece back from me reseating it around his neck. "More than I can spend anywhere normal. So it's basically just a neat trinket at this point." He lifts the piece up again to look at it. "Other than flagging me as a 'Hero'. What it can actually do is buy me a favor from the Royals if I ever need it. Within reason."
My voice catches in my throat, causing me to have a short coughing fit. "Wait what?! Why haven't you used it?"
The old man lifts a brow. "And what exactly would I ask for Liore?"
I purse my lips and consider the options given his status. " You could ask to be a noble, or to have a castle, or just exchange it for the money. You could ask for anything right?"
Old Guard smiles. "I said within reason. They aren't going to let someone of my class be Nobility. Sure I could ask to get money from the Kings coffers from the rest of my life. But then all the [Royal Guard] who survived were brought back into the regular Grand Army and continued serving. And some of my comrades from the Elite were offered higher positions and they did exactly that. Most of them got brought into the Kings Guard and now he's better protected than any [King] in history. So would have just been better to keep working for them."
"But you...didn't want any of that…did you…" I ask quietly.
The slow shake of his head meant enough of an answer. "Then what did you do?"
The old man smiled. "A friend I made from the Mercs who survived the lapse offered me a space in his guild. And I accepted." His eyes shifting to the sword laying against my pack near me. "His was a [Knight] named Delvin Maxon. The original wielder of the sword you now carry."
I turn to look at the heavy broadsword near me. Having forgotten it was even there until now. And I instinctively grab and pull it over into my lap. "Right. You did say you were Mercenary for a long time."
He gives a low hum in response. "For almost 20 years I think. Been all over the Grand in every direction. Fought things someone of my class would never usually see in all their lives. And been underestimated for it countless times." The old man smirks at that. "Which I'm sure you will get a lot in the future too."
My face gets a bit warm in embarrassment. "I already get it enough from the others in the Village." But a thought occurs to me. Biting my lip a bit. "How old…exactly are you? I don't think anyone in the village actually knows…"
But thankfully he doesn't seem bothered by the question. "I am 83."
My eyes widen. The air grows cold as a smile creeps up again on Old Guards face. "Wait…what?" I say perplexed. I've seen several people in the village that age and they can barely move around on their own anymore. "I knew you were old cause everyone calls you that but..HOW?"
Mr. Thorpe is definitely a little graying but his hair is still mostly light brownish and despite some wrinkling he couldn't be older than Mr. Wyatt.
Old Guard sits up proudly. "That's because of my level. To most people they don't really notice because people over level 10 aren't as common. But to those who know someone who is can tell they they live much longer." He explains. "Infact as we grow in level our bodies naturally get stronger and we tend to live longer lives. Allows people to keep doing their life's work for longer. It is minor but it's still noticeable."
He points at me next. "That's why children who haven't gained their first level are so weak and are much easier to die from sickness or infections. But once you get level 1 it becomes alot harder to kill you with things like that." He then aims a thumb back at himself. "But something changes when someone hits level 10. Like crossing a threshold. You gain a passive skill called [Breath of Life] as a reward for making it that far. And it simply just extends your life."
"Wait but your just level 8!" I exclaim, leaning forward to glare. Like, that's something everyone in the village knows. I've known that since I was 6.
But Old Guard shakes his head. "No Liore. I'm not. That's just what we told the village when your Mom hired me."
"Then…what level are you?"
And there is that smirk creeping on his dumb face again.
"I'm level 11."