Two hundred soldiers left our camp the night before. Nearly five hundred returned.

  Not only had we not lost a single soldier—though I’d come very close to dying myself—but we’d recruited far more citizens of Lauricium than I’d ever expected.

  It turned out that Arzak’s network had a huge presence in the city, so once we’d explained who we were and what we were trying to do—that is: save the world—it was a fairly convincing sales pitch. The people of Lauricium had seen first hand what we were capable of, and so to them, our victory was not in question. They joined us to be rid of the evil Council of Players, and to be there when history was made. I did nothing to dissuade them from this idea.

  And to think, if I’d called a Player evil just six months ago, I would have been met with disdain.

  When we arrived back in camp, the soldiers that Lore and I had brought with us dispersed. Their higher spirits were contagious, spreading through the camp as quickly as I’d hoped. I watched as soldiers enthusiastically recounted the battle against the bogspawn—often complete with mimed fighting—and encouraged others to amp up their training. We were going to win; they knew it.

  I just wish I thought the same.

  The campfire in the centre of all the tents was the largest in the entire camp, and it had become a communal meeting point of a sort. There were felled trees around it for people to sit on, and over the last few days some blankets had even started appearing. I took a seat there, intending only to sit for a few moments, but the flickering flames were somehow comforting enough that I remained for the best part of half an hour. At one point, I looked across the fire to see Zoi, sat on the opposite side, staring into it. We nodded to one another, but both recognised that the other was there to be alone, and we respected that.

  Val arrived at my side, not respecting that. She remained stood, her hands on her hips, and I looked up to see a scowl on her face.

  ‘Uh oh.’

  ‘You died?’ she said.

  ‘Only nearly!’

  ‘Lore said for ten minutes!’

  ‘Well, Lore better keep his mouth shut in future!’ I looked around for him to flip him a rude gesture, but he was nowhere in sight.

  Val glared. ‘You said you were just going after neereagles. What’s this about a bogspawn?’

  ‘I didn’t plan it, it just kinda… happened. Look, the only reason I nearly died—’

  ‘Just “died”,’ Val corrected me.

  ‘The only reason I nearly died,’ I repeated, ‘was because a tried something new. I tried to copy Debayur’s voidstorm. Remember him?’

  ‘I remember him dying!’

  I winced. ‘Yes, fair point. But what I’m trying to say is, I won’t be trying that again. No more voids. Voids are out. I’m gonna keep my portals firmly planted in this plane of existence, just as the gods intended.’

  ‘You bloody well better, cos if you die, I’ll kill you. You’re not leaving me to raise a child alone; I want to be able to go out drinking.’ She sighed. ‘Gods, I miss drinking. Point is: stop dying, alright?’

  ‘Alright. I promise.’ Val realised before me that I was touching my chest again, where the Sisyphus Artifact should have been hanging.

  ‘Yeah, I didn’t realise how important that was gonna be,’ my wife said. ‘Wish we could get it back. I’ve got half a mind to…’ She shook her head. ‘Never mind.’ With that, she took a seat at my side, by the fire, and we watched the flames flicker.

  * * *

  On the eve of the eve of the eve of the battle—that is, three days before we’d have to ride north to Auricia—more trouble struck the camp. In place of greybacks, it was rockets that streamed through our tents in untold number. Despite being so many of them, these were far more easily dealt with, and nobody suffered more than a few easily-healed bites around their ankles. The improved morale that I’d set in motion by killing the bogspawn only gained more momentum as a result. It was about time we had a bit of luck.

  I killed a good couple of dozen rockrats myself, and it was enough to tip my Knifework over into level 65, which meant it was time for another ability selection. I took a moment to lie down in the darkness of my tent while I perused my options.

  Ability selection unlocked

  Select an ability from the list below:

  Option 1: Summoned Blades II (Knifework) [Requires: Worldbending level 80] — Use mana to summon a blade directly into each empty hand. Uses mana per cast.

  This was an upgrade of ability that I’d almost chosen before, back when I’d ended up selecting etched blades. I didn’t regret that decision, as it had come in handy—especially when Val imbued by dagger with her lifedrain magicks—but now that I could select it again, it was a contender. And this time, it required less mana to use, which meant I still had more of my reserves left for all my portal magicks.

  Considering that I had a much-underutilised throw ability, which meant I could throw knives with a good level of accuracy, I was half-tempted to lock this option in then and there. After all, throwing knives was all well and good, but pretty quickly you were… out of knives. This ability would solve that particular issue.

  I turned my attention to the next of the three options.

  Option 2: Dual Wield II (Knifework) — Passive. You can now use a dagger in each hand with equal ability. Ability level is copied from dominant hand to non-dominant hand. Also applies to any non-weapon tool, functionally making the user ambidextrous.

  This option I pretty much disregarded straight away; if I wasn’t heading for the battle of my life, I may have considered it, but now wasn’t the time. I really needed every combat ability that I could get. I moved on to the last option.

  Option 3: Closed Reach II (Knifework) [Requires: Worldbending level 80] — Bend reality to narrow the gap between blade and target by up to 16 inches. Requires significant mana to use.

  It was an upgrade to one of the very first Knifework abilities I’d picked since the devastation of Plainside, when this journey truly began. The only real difference in this upgrade was the extent to which I could bend reality, which would grow to double that what it was previously. It was tempting, sorely tempting, but I ultimately decided the first option was better because it enabled my throw ability to be consistently useful.

  Ability unlocked — Summoned Blades II

  Summoned Blades II (Knifework) — Use mana to summon a blade directly into each empty hand. Uses mana per cast.

  I tested it immediately, despite the fact that I was lying down in a dark tent. My usual dagger was tucked away in its sheath, so I had both hands free. If the ability description was to be believed, then this would summon two blades for the mana cost of one activation. I activated it, and a gentle purple glow flashed in my hands for a moment. A second later, there was a small, plain knife in each hand.

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  I had a good grip on neither of them, and had to scramble to stop one of them falling into my belly. This is why you test new abilities out of combat, so you can sort out the kinks beforehand. Next time, I would close my fingers around them immediately.

  If I wanted to test this out in combination with my throw ability, I knew exactly where to go. Leaving the tent, I strolled across the tent to the archery range, and commandeered one of the targets from Corminar and his students. I activated my throw ability, rather than simply throwing the blades—a key distinction there—and even at a range of fifty or so yards, I hit near the centre of the target. Satisfied, I activated summoned blades once more, and two more knives appeared in my hands amidst a purple haze. I grabbed them before they could fall to the ground.

  I caught Corminar pull an impressed face.

  ‘New ability,’ I explained.

  ‘I can see that. I approve.’

  I threw once more, and once again I struck near the centre of the target. In this situation, my target was growing a bit full of blades that I’d need to pull out again. In reality, however, I could just keep this up, summoning more knives and throwing them at enemies until my mana ran out. The other limiting factor was the damage dealt—one thrown knife would deal only a fraction of the damage of my stab or execution abilities. I would have to keep that in mind.

  With another attack now firmly up my sleeve, I felt like celebrating. Unfortunately, any such joyous feelings were cut short by the worst possible thing happening.

  Ted showed up.

  Though Ted had promised Corminar he would come, I’d not expected him to actually follow through. Maybe he did think he was under some kind of “blood debt” to Corminar—an entirely made-up thing, I remind you—but still, I didn’t think he had it in him to willingly put his life on the line for a cause. I suppose it was still partially out of self-interest; he did live in the world that was going to be destroyed.

  Neither was Corminar that thrilled to see him, though he didn’t let Ted know. It took me a moment to realise that this feeling wasn’t about Ted himself, unlike it was for me. It was about Ted showing up when none of the great nations of Alterra had bothered. What did it say about them if even Ted was here?

  The one good thing about the camp being well over a thousand-strong was that I could avoid the enchanter, so I left Corminar alone to deal with him. I walked around the very edge of the camp, looking for movement between the trees. The longer that those towers drew power, the more monsters they seemed to attract. We had ample guards and scouts out there minding the perimeter, but it was something to do, and I’d been feeling like I couldn’t be useful.

  An hour or so later, I was just about to turn back for the fires and the warmth and the shelter from the bitter breeze, when one of Arzak’s informats rode towards me. I stepped aside at first to let the man past, but he kept his eyes trained on me—it was me that he was after.

  ‘News?’ I asked.

  The man nodded, then dismounted. ‘Arzak wishes to speak with you. Take the horse; it sounded urgent.’

  I returned the nod and took the horse, though my ability to ride hadn’t much improved over these past few weeks. I could at least just about wind my way through the tents—though, honestly, the horse was doing most of the heavy-lifting there—but it was only marginally better than walking, in the end.

  Arzak was in the tent that she’d commandeered for organisation, standing at the side of Zoi and a few soldiers unknown to me. When she saw me, she said one last sentence to the group, then hurried over to join me. ‘I found it,’ she said.

  I hesitated. ‘Found what?’

  Arzak frowned at this response. ‘Artifact. You tell Val to tell me to look for it, yes?’ When I didn’t immediately respond, her brow loosened. ‘Mm. She do this of own accord. Not like idea of you dying.’

  ‘I don’t much like it either, if that helps.’

  ‘Mm. Well, it in—she in—farmhouse south of Elswa. If go now, might catch her.’

  Elswa. I knew the place; we’d tracked a Player down near there, and I could open a distant portal not so far away. I was sure a local would be able to point me to the farmhouse; it was hardly a large place.

  ‘Good,’ I said, ‘thank you.’

  ‘Something important to add: this is surely trap, no?’

  I nodded my agreement. ‘Yep. My mother is nothing if not good at hiding her tracks; if we’ve found her, it’s because she wanted us to.’

  The orc returned my nod. ‘Good. So not go.’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘But it trap.’

  ‘Yes.’ I could see that she was about to argue the point further, so I cut back in. ‘But it’s the artifact. I have to go. I won’t take anyone else, and I still don’t think she’ll hurt me. Even if it’s a trap, what harm can she do?’

  Arzak winced. ‘I already tell Val. She getting visibility gem now.’

  I grabbed the horse’s reins. ‘Then I better go. I won’t need the gem anyway; it’s best we keep that card up our sleeve for now.’ My mother hadn’t hurt Val on our last encounter, but she’d just been given the news that Val was carrying her grandchild. Once she’d had time to consider that information, who knew how she would react? She was hardly the most stable person I’d ever met. It was better not to take any chances.

  The orc hurried back into her tent, and came back with some wrapped supplies. ‘Then take these. Best go now.’

  I thanked my friend, put the supplies in my pocket world, and then rode the horse through a distant portal. As I headed for my mother, I touched the top of my blade.

  Maybe I could get through to her. Or maybe I’d have to kill her after all.