Coming into the cavern space, a red light washed over Luke’s vision, before retreating an instant later.

  Off in the distance stood a massive multi-faced forge, blood pumping in and over it— reddish-orange elementals stoked the fires around. Humanoid fiends hammered molten metal onto the forge, where blood mist in the air soaked into the material.

  Keeping in the heat were Obsidian and Bloodstone rocky walls. A blood pool would appear and evaporate, sucked up by the forge, spawning a featureless pale skinned robbed demonic-like creature, spiked teeth jutting out its mouth, with trickles of blood already flowing down to ruin its red robes.

  Taking the opportunity, Luke brought the creature’s information up through the Interface.

  [Red Watcher] (Elite)

  Tier: 1

  Level: 40

  HP: 3900/3900

  A Mage-type faceless bloodsucker. Leads other members within the Blood Forge to survival. Rarely engages alone. Cowards.

  True to the Interface’s quip, the Red Watcher ran beside one of the Vampire Smiths hammering away and seemed content to stay there. Seconds later, a patchwork beast with blood fire quills on its back sat beside it. Then another.

  And another.

  Ignoring the lack of light, except for the occasional red pulse or beat of fire from Vampire Smiths hammering molten weapons, Luke could see well enough anyway. The vision attribute from Wayfinder turned useful in this situation.

  Based on his habits, he believed others would have to funnel their resource to their vision centers to do the same. Melen, the monic beside him, appeared to be doing just that, the constant effort making him silent. Fleur came up behind Melen, grasping onto a mail shoulder pad the Curseweaver wore, “Having trouble, Melen? Should I slice up the rabble around here to keep you calm?”

  A flummoxed flash passed Melen’s expression, “That won’t be necessary, Fleur. You need not trouble yourself.”

  Bored at the even tone response, Fleur spoke to Luke next, “Your plan, Spell Sword? Unlike the last two, rushing down the middle won’t be so leisurely.” She glanced at Veyri, who leaned against the cavern entrance some distance away, “Veyri remains unimpressed.”

  The Reaver gathered the surroundings. A scant few hunter parties grinded in the corners around the Blood Forge, around six or seven groups. Each was engaged by a monster party led by a Red Watcher, assisted by several Quill Beasts and often one Vampire Smith.

  The monsters outnumbered the hunters in this room by about two to one. Multiple monster groups ambled around the Blood Forge, forming each time a Red Watcher spawned. After a short observation, Luke found why no group would approach the forge, it was where monsters were highest in density. Well over thirty creatures surrounded it, and more came to join in a steady stream.

  Pacing in a loose, distant, semi-circle around the Blood Forge, Luke put his mind to the task of his situation. Publicly, he remained a ‘Spell Sword’ and through modest research as well as exposure to a multitude of hunters, he came about a few conclusions as to what that actually meant. It came down to three simple patterns. One, Spell Swords were known for their lack of hard control abilities.

  Essence Fissure was a complete rebellion to what a Spell Sword in this world could reasonably ever use. Two, Spell Swords could buff their weapons, or even themselves, but others? Never. Third, area of effect damaging spells were rare but not unheard of. Luke was already an ‘exception’ amongst Spell Swords, as he had a companion. He figured he could test his luck further and allow himself to use Essence Lance publicly. A fourth weaker—and inapplicable—rule was Spell Swords uncommonly had self-healing abilities. The information was moot because the Reaver Class never gifted him such an ability.

  Unfortunately, it did mean things like applying Essence Bond to others, Infusion to allies, and using Essence Fissure in any capacity would be inexplicable to anyone with knowledge about the Spell Sword class. Musai had said the silver glow of Infusion onto Sooty and himself at the same time was a giveaway. The Orlan’s Ice Horde Assassin commented that no Spell Sword had a fissure like that.

  That left Siphon to be used as he saw fit. Its interaction with Essence Fissure impossible around public eyes anyway. Essence Bond onto Xera, or a singular enemy, Infusion onto himself, and Xera. With his having Infusion permanently anyway, being caught by overusing the ability became drastically more difficult compared to before. Essence Lance, he’d stretch it, shattering it for groups would have to be accepted by others.

  However, it brokered no argument that attempting the Essence Feedback function was folly. Not that he’d need it around enemies of this level. Really though, while his spells underpinned the foundation to his growth, they were becoming a backseat driver to the techniques he began to accumulate or even item abilities.

  Having gone over the self-imposed restrictions—all to prevent potential headaches—Luke elbowed into Melen, “We’re going to tackle the middle, get ready.”

  “We’re doing what? Are you out of your mind?”

  “No, just out of time.”

  Essence Bond’s runes blazed onto Xera’s sword form. Seeking to push to his public limits, Luke funneled essence into Xera, twisting her into a wand, the weapon on board, “Wand play, chuck me at the red one!”

  Since all the enemies in the vicinity had one tone of red or another, which gave Luke zero clue, the Reaver figured that meant she wanted them all. A rapidly rotating Essence Lance formed, the innate frost essence nearly freezing Melen into a block of ice. With the boost from Xera’s wand form and the Whispering Tome, Luke’s spell power jumped again.

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  Taking pity on Melen, Luke put a hand onto the monic’s shoulder, sucking away the cold, and pushing him back, “Your too vulnerable for the front line around me, Melen. Stay back with Fleur.”

  Melen appeared to protest. A second glance from Luke made the Curseweaver stride back to Fleur—his spells at the ready. For her part, Fleur contained two wind twisters in her hands, her expression telling Luke all he needed to know. That being, go.

  Taking the extra slack he anticipated having against these weaker creatures, Luke decided to implement a different tactic. He formed ice under his feet, freezing a five-foot radius in half a second. Next, he poured additional frost essence into the lance, nearly replicating the feeling of ‘overloading’ a spell. Something he found would be a technique, but considering the drawbacks he experienced, would be one he had no mastery in. Lastly, Luke readied Triple Step, its boost to his speed minor, but there nonetheless.

  Aiming the Essence Lance at the central most point in the Blood Forge, Luke figured the radius should affect all but the monsters at the outermost edge to the central location. Then he fulminated the ice around him, took the kinetic force, and zipped up the monsters, with Triple Step reducing the travel time by an additional tenth of a second.

  In one fluid motion, Essence Lance detonated in the middle of two Red Watcher packs, the damage and sudden explosion turning the beasts into ice statues, the Vampire Smiths to cool their molten weapons, and the Red Watcher Captains to slap against the forge grounds. Xera rematerialized into a sword. Fresh dark blue ice covered Luke, and he used controlled implosions with the ice to rotate midair, slicing the helpless beasts multiple times in a fraction of a second.

  Momentum, rotation, Xera’s preternatural sharpness, Elementalization, freezing, empowerment by both Essence Bond, Infusion, and lastly, stats beyond what these creatures would ever experience at the same tier.

  The result needed little explanation. Like a blender, Luke killed every single monster within Xera’s reach—one or two strikes, mid-air rotation—instant obliteration. With the opening act over, all that remained were seven more distant creatures out of over twenty-five. One foot finally touched the ground, and Luke pushed hard, using Triple Step again. Inexperience froze the movement momentarily, but the remaining Vampire Smiths, two beasts, and one Red Watcher could only watch—too slow to preserve themselves. The Reaver sliced off the last Red Watcher’s head frictionlessly and commanded Whispering Tome to overlay a Silent Domain around him.

  Vampire Smiths tried to shriek, their mouths clamped shut. Luke applied Siphon to the monster he believed he would kill last to reduce rest time. The two beasts tried to bite into Luke, he flushed out more ice, freezing them, then slicing them in half with Xera. Before pinning the remaining two Vampire Smiths with the sword wand, dual-twisters smashed into them, with black cursing bolts following behind.

  In a casual fashion, Luke slid to the two Vampire Smiths, stabbing Xera into their foreheads as they struggled against Wind Twisters chaining them to the floor, and black plague sucking away their vitality. Behind him were the worst affected monsters, turned into literal ice dust. The forge appeared cooled for a moment before the Blood-Fire Elementals stoked it again.

  Laying Xera over his shoulder—using the blade’s flat—Luke quickly scanned the forge; no spawning pools were around, and the previously formed monsters—extinguished. The corners of the rooms still held beasts or a Red Watcher group; all were being engaged or distant enough not to aggro onto the Reaver.

  One word came to mind: Easy.

  Dark blue ice continued to spread around Luke, covering the entire Blood Forge and the nearest twenty feet around it. The fires fed by the Blood-Fire Elementals barely kept aflame. The subconscious ice generation was below what he recovered naturally and through Hunter’s Ice Blessed Trousers effect assistance. The blood pumping to the forge flowed at a glacial pace. A snowflake pattern grew out from under Luke, claiming a domain.

  Arctic winds mustered around the Reaver, the terrain became more attuned to his natural disposition. The molten weapons left on now unused forges grew brittle from sudden cooling. Many of them cracked apart.

  Fleur stood a dozen yards away from Luke, her mouth agape, “How is this? What the? That’s the sort of power the upper-ranked second ascended produce. He’s not a Tower Climber in disguise? He has to be.” If her tone were any indication, Luke thought the miserable elf might be experiencing her confidence shattering.

  The temperature in the Blood Forge dropped at an accelerating rate. As such, Melen continued to backtrack. Fleur handled it, although not easily. Questioning himself, Melen said, “Is this the difference between honed techniques and everyone else? And I thought I’d made the gap smaller, no, it widened tremendously.”

  Done with her hands off approach, Veyri scooped up Melen and plopped him in front of Fleur, “Think of it as training. How can you ever pass someone if their passive state is too much to be around?” Slapping Fleur nonchalantly, Veyri said, “Get a hold of yourself, Wind Mage.”

  Cupping her now red palm printed cheek, Fleur sucked in air rapidly, “Veyri, the rumors, they were true. An Expert, I—he has to be beyond even me.”

  Veyri narrowed her eyes at Luke, “He reminds me of the last time I saw Elementalization at Master, but not quite there. Expert is putting it lightly, one more breakthrough and he’ll reach the next major point.” She casually shot a lightning covered regular arrow at the heart of Luke’s ice.

  The Reaver’s ice barely cracked, extinguishing the lightning into a faint black smoke. Rather than consternation, elation pervaded Veyri’s body. She shivered from the thrill and licked her lips, “Luke Wallace, the balance breaker. I wonder how he’d be in a duel.”

  Luke got the sense that Veyri’s mindset about him had changed. If he had been a recruit prospect before, now he was a rival. The Blood Forge spat out three more red pools, and other monsters began to reform around the spawn point. Luke positioned himself sequentially with each one, slaughtering the monsters as they materialized. This gave him another easy eight kills.

  Taking advantage of the two or three minute forced break due to spawn times, Veyri sat beside Luke, actively trying to use lightning around her body to shrug off the passive ice radiating from the Reaver. She shivered nonetheless but could withstand close range compared to the other two party members.

  “I get the sense you’ll be unable to be tamed, Wallace. You’re a freak of nature, and I do love freaks.” She traced a finger over her bow, “Tone down the ice, let Melen be your loot porter and Fleur…a trash clean up assistant.”

  “Veyri, what do you mean by that? I should take out the stragglers for this man? He’s not worthy,” Fleur had gales pushing off her body, her basic wind spell activating every two seconds.

  Blinking once, Luke allowed the ice around to blow away softly but kept the Blood Forge teetering on collapse. Melen went around to every monster Luke killed, looting them, tabulating the results, and writing it down as he went.

  Responding to Fleur, Veyri said, “Be useful or be gone, Fleur. That was the condition, and so far, all you’ve been capable of is to pin down monsters so Wallace can take his sweet time.”

  Fleur paled. She came up to the Blood Forge’s outer platform edge and turned away. She spat out a “Fine” and ceased to speak, her shoulders trembling.

  Less interestered in her former best recruit, Veyri focused on Luke, “That ice of yours has gone up two or three steps. Want to tell your future Tower Squad Captain how you continue to break her sense of understanding? I want, fuck, now I need you, Wallace. What is it that you want?” Leaning into Luke’s ears, she said, “Is it me? You’ve made me into one rather desperate woman, showing the secrets I’ve been wanting to learn for years in front of me. I could…”

  “There’s an incredibly simple way to get me to join your team Veyri.”

  Pulling back, Veyri gazed at Luke, “And what would that be, Wallace?”

  “Bring me my dad.”