Xavier returned to Earth. He hadn’t wanted to, but he knew he needed to come up with a plan. He couldn’t simply step through any random portal he wished and hope he would end up somewhere that could make him stronger.

  He’d also been through the different hunting grounds the gnome information broker had given him enough times to know that while he could get stronger in some of them, they wouldn’t really be enough.

  Though they could potentially be good hunting grounds for Volkarin and the Spirit Golem. Even for Romalda, come to think of it.

  And so, he was back on Earth. He’d stepped through the portal and into Famarial’s building, then promptly left Fronton through a portal of his own creation, stepping out into a small clearing somewhere deep in the forest that Collinsville was home to. He could have returned to his quarters back in Collinsville, but he didn’t want to tip off anyone back in his town that he had returned. Even portalling straight to his quarters would be enough to let Guardian know he was around.

  Romalda had her arms crossed, peering at him with a curious, if somewhat impatient, expression. “Who exactly are these people you wish to introduce me to in the middle of the woods?” She glanced around. “They aren’t dryads, are they? I hate dryads.”

  Xavier chuckled. “They aren’t dryads.” He placed a hand on his Companion Cube and summoned Volkarin. “The dragon you’ve met, of course, though not formally.”

  Volkarin straightened to his full height. Despite being a lower grade, he looked rather majestic.

  “Volkarin, much like you, is enjoying his second life in this universe. I summoned him from the Otherworld and gave him a new body.”

  Romalda’s eyes widened as she took all of that in. “You… You brought an Otherworld spirit back to life? How in the world did you manage that?”

  Xavier simply smiled at the woman, ignoring her question. Rhaalir, he thought. Make yourself known. At the same time as he called out the elf spirit, he summoned the Spirit Golem from his inventory.

  Rhaalir, visible to all in the clearing, appeared a few feet form it before stepping into the golem.

  The Spirit Golem, which had been standing there, slumped slightly forward, its arms dangling at its side, suddenly came to life.

  Though as Romalda had tracked the elf spirit to the golem, it was clear that she too was able to see him even before he’d entered the golem. Xavier supposed it shouldn’t be too surprising that a necromancer had that ability.

  “A Spirit Golem!” Romalda’s eyes widened even more than before. It looked like her eyes would pop out of her skull. “How did you get your hands on one of those? Do you know how rare they are?”

  Again, Xavier simply smiled without answering her question.

  “Romalda Heralda, meet Rhaalir. He is the spirit inhabiting the Spirit Golem.”

  Romalda blinked, looking between Volkarin and the Spirit Golem. “For someone who isn’t a necromancer, you sure do surround yourself with many who were once dead,” the woman muttered.

  “Some of us are still dead,” Rhaalir said, his voice coming from the Spirit Golem, sounding as monotone as always.

  Romalda blinked lazily at the golem. “My condolences. I understand. I’ve been there. Now, Xavier, why did you gather us here? Not simply to make introductions, I’m sure.” She glanced around furtively. The breeze rolled through the trees. Somewhere, far off, a beast roared. “In this nice, secluded part of the forest… You have something to say?”

  “Astute, this one,” Rhaalir said.

  “I am hungry,” Volkarin growled, a puff of smoke releasing from his nostrils. “Is it time to hunt?”

  Xavier ignored the dragon. He was always hungry. “There’s something I wish to share with you, Romalda. And…” He looked from one face to the next. “I need your advice. All of you.”

  Volkarin straightened, his fierce eyes boring into Xavier as his entire demeanour shifted. Romalda crossed her arms and tilted her chin up. The spirit Golem didn’t move.

  And so Xavier told them. Volkarin and Rhaalir knew of the imminent threat to the Silver River sector, of course. They just didn’t know how imminent it was—unless Rhaalir had been listening in to his conversation with the empress.

  He had a feeling the spirit sometimes floated around unseen.

  “Three years…” Rhaalir said. “That isn’t very long, Xavier.”

  “The answer is obvious.” Romalda put her hands on her hips. The others looked at her, expectant. She raised an eyebrow. “Leave the sector? Xavier doesn’t owe anyone anything—he gained his strength and power independently. This world, this sector, isn’t his responsibility.”

  Volkarin growled low in his throat. “The pale woman has a point. How will you help me take revenge on those that killed me if you’re dead?”

  “I think the two of you are missing the point.” Rhaalir sighed. “Xavier isn’t going to abandon his people. He wants advice on how to become strong enough to fight the threat, not on how best to turn tail and run away.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Turn. Tail?” Volkarin’s tail whipped back and forth behind him. “No meat on those golem bones, is there?”

  “A tactical retreat from a powerful threat is not running away, it’s simply common sense. No one gets to be one of the most powerful Denizens in the Greater Universe by letting stronger powers stomp them early on.” Romalda looked Xavier up and down. “Isn’t that the whole reason you’re wearing a disguise?”

  Xavier had, briefly, considered getting out of the sector. He’d be a fool not to even entertain the idea. But Rhaalir was right. He hadn’t asked for their advice about running away.

  “Three years,” Xavier said. “I need to reach C Grade. I need to eclipse Empress Larona’s power. I need become strong enough to face this threat. The Tower of Champions will not be open to me again for over five more months. I do not wish to waste the time that I have here.”

  Romalda shut her eyes and ran a hand through her dark hair. Volkarin growled again but said nothing. Rhaalir looked from the necromancer to the dragon, then at Xavier. “You must leave the sector.”

  “That’s what I said,” Romalda muttered.

  The dragon huffed smoke.

  Xavier sighed. “I told you, I’m not—”

  Rhaalir raised one of the Spirit Golem’s hands. “That isn’t what I meant. You’ve said so yourself. You’ve outgrown this sector. There may very well be worlds within the galaxy that have beasts strong enough to challenge you, but they will be few and far between. It would be better for you to go somewhere else. Somewhere rife with the challenges you need to truly excel.”

  “Leaving a sector isn’t exactly easy,” Volkarin said.

  “The grumpy dragon is right,” Romalda replied. “If you wished to leave the sector to escape this threat, that would be one thing. There would be time to prepare for that. But if you wish to travel the universe, looking for the most perfect place to become more powerful—that will be far more difficult. You would have to leave now. Tell me, how could it be that a D Grade could possibly possess the resources for such a journey without sponsorship from a more powerful entity, hmm?”

  “Oh, he already has the means,” Rhaalir said.

  Xavier summoned something from his Storage Ring. The Universal Travel Key he’d gained from that Fetid Troll’s loot box. Xavier had intended to leave the sector soon—not to flee, but to train. He’d long thought, as Rhaalir pointed out, that he’d outgrown Silver River.

  The problem was, he had no idea where to go.

  “Between the three of you, you hold a wealth of knowledge. Each of you were significantly more powerful in your former lives than I am now. That’s why I brought the three of you together here. I believe Rhaalir is right. Leaving the sector to face new challenges is what I need to do right now. But where do I go?”

  Xavier could use Summon Otherworldly Spirit to gain insight on this question, but he wanted to see what these three had to say first. While he could ask Alexic, he didn’t want to limit himself to the neighbouring sectors that the man would have knowledge of.

  There were literally billions of different sectors out there that he could choose from, to the point where it was incredibly overwhelming, especially since he didn’t know, well, anything about any of them.

  Xavier began pacing around the forest, waiting for the others to provide him with some sort of answer.

  The three looked between each other.

  Volkarin was the first to speak. “The universe has changed much since I was alive. I would not know where to send you.”

  Rhaalir inclined his head in a slight nod. “Unfortunately, this universe and my own, the one I was originally from… The events within them have diverged considerably. I, too, would not know where to begin.” The Spirit Golem scratched its head. Xavier knew this was purely a performative gesture, as how could Rhaalir, a spirit, ever get itchy? “I’m not even sure how long this universe has been around.”

  Romalda was shaking her head at the other two spoke. “Grumpy dragon and golem man might not know where you should go.” The necromancer narrowed her eyes. “But I have an idea.”

  “I’m not grumpy,” Volkarin growled.

  “That’s golem elf to you,” Rhaalir muttered in his monotone.

  Xavier had worried their responses would be… Lacklustre at best. He understood why Romalda, who didn’t know any of what Xaiver had done or been through, would suggest he get the hell out of the sector before the threat came, but he was more than a little disappointed that Volkarin had suggested the same thing.

  The dragon knew how much Xavier cared about preserving the peoples of Earth. Whatever this threat was, a beast born on the side of an asteroid with nothing but hunger in its heart, must have caused the suffering and the ends to countless worlds out there in the black.

  Knowing of the threat… Xavier couldn’t help but want to put a stop to it.

  Just because it had power, didn’t mean it had a right to devour whole sectors.

  He locked gazes with Romalda. The necromancer had a glint in her eyes and a wicked smile on her face. “Where?” he asked her.

  “The three Hell Moons of Demonica,” Romalda said.

  Xavier narrowed his eyes. “Hell Moons?” He didn’t like the sound of that.

  Volkarin stared at the necromancer. There was a look of shock on his face that Xavier hadn’t seen before. It was strange, seeing such a look on the dragon. “This woman is insane.”

  “Demonica…” Rhaalir frowned. “That sounds strangely familiar.”

  “Romalda, why does Volkarin think you’re insane? You wouldn’t happen to be trying to get me killed, would you?” Xavier asked. “Just so you know, I’ll be bringing you along.”

  The necromancer’s smile only grew more manic. There was something strange in her gaze as she spoke to him. “I was hoping you would.” She interlocked her fingers together in front of her. “And no, Xavier, I’m not trying to get you killed. Trust me, if that were to ever happen, I would be entirely upfront about it.” She did a strange little salute. “Necromancer’s honour.”

  “Since when do necromancers have honour?” Rhaalir asked.

  Xavier ignored the Spirit Golem and took a step toward the necromancer. “What are the Hell Moons of Demonica? And why did simply mentioning them make a Volkarin react that way?”

  It was Volkarin who spoke, stepping forward with a small puff of flame. “The three Hell Moons of Demonica lay in the heart of one of the most powerful sectors in the universe. They were birthed when this universe was still young, when the System was crawling through only its tenth sector. You have encountered a demon before, young dragonkin, but you know not what lurks upon these moons.” The dragon lowered his head, his eyes coming level with Xavier’s. “There are things that lurk deep within these moons that could devour entire sectors, much like the threat that is heading toward your sector. To seek these demons out would be folly.”

  Romalda sighed. “Those are deep within the moons. He will not have to face such threats. There are different sections of each of the Hell Moons. The First Descent, the Second Descent—all the way to the Hundredth Descent. Each descent will garner you a title. It is like a dungeon, or the Tower of Champions, in that way. You don’t have to go all the way down.”

  “Ah,” Rhaalir said with a bob of the Spirit Golem’s head. “The Hell Moons. I have heard of those, though the memory lies deep within my past. It’s… Murky.” He cocked his head to the side. “But Volkarin is right, the dangers of this place are very real.”

  “Danger is what I need,” Xavier said. He looked up, through the forest’s canopy and at the blue sky above. It was too bright to see the stars, and even if he could, he wouldn’t know where to look. “The threat is coming. I want to be ready for it.” He locked gazes with the necromancer once again. “Tell me more.”

  Accidental Champion!

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