Calming herself after the sparring session, Astrid crouched in Travis' heart room. It was quiet and private, which was what she desired for what she would share. "Godmetal. You call it divinium.

"Our legends say that the gods themselves made it, scattered it to the world for us to find. Sorcerers and monsters desired it, and would gather to build holes where it fell. Dungeons." She waited for Travis to make a monosyllabic sound (even if it was in her mind) of recognition. "That's wrong, I know, but that's how the story goes. I have seen how Katelyn uses gold to shape and control her magics. Divinium is akin to that the same way a cannon blast is to a thrown stone.

"That chain that Captain Donna used on the Undead dungeon's heart? That was divinium. Our priests work it with old patterns of faith and belief—probably magic, but they'd never admit that—into powerful artifacts. Donna had acquired the chain, a symbol of our gods' ability to shackle even the monsters themselves, and put them to use.

"Such artifacts aren't trusted by most, but Donna's brother is in the priesthood. She trusted him and he helped get her the chain. Ultimately, we would have kept control of the dungeon. Each time we come to raid, we'd have used it to bolster our forces and force you to fight two armies at once. We know your kingdom doesn't destroy a dungeon lightly."

Travis was equal parts appalled and impressed. "What else have you seen it used for?"

"I've only seen two other divinium items. One used the metal in a sheath. Any sword kept in it would slice through anything—including adamantine—and would never grow dull. The other was a drinking stein that would remove poisons from anything placed in it and turn water into mead. It was the stupidest, most extravagant thing I ever heard of." Astrid closed her eyes and remembered seeing the patterns wrought into the gold-hued metalwork of the mug. "It was a status symbol. A chief's folly to put himself above all others."

Travis thought over the warning. "It sounds unique. If it's that powerful, I can see why Honor wanted me to not tell Stewart about the reward for killing him in here. Do you want to go back to West Reaches now?"

Looking down at her hands, the dull adamantine now coating them making her smile, Astrid nodded. "But one thing first. I know what I want my new class to be."

Hreti was in Travis' mindspace barely a moment before he was pulled to the mortal world again. He grumbled as he woke from the dead. Lying on an altar, the stone flat and cool, Hreti looked toward the movement beside him. He grunted at Brayden and turned to sit up. "That's two."

"I don't keep count. You have some upgrades coming," Brayden said, passing Hreti some clothing. "You missed Astrid by a day. She'll be at West Reaches soon."

"'Upgrades'?" Taking the clothes, Hreti pulled the shirt and trousers on. He looked at his hands for a moment, surprised to find them human.

"Astrid said you'll be able to shift, but wait until we have something a bit larger for you to wear." Not that Brayden thought Hreti was small, even as a human. The man stood six and a half feet tall and had shoulders that would cause problems for regular doorways. "Travis told me you maxed out Tank, so you'll need an extra suit of adamantine made for you to absorb."

"She'll be annoyed, though. We took the outer gates of West Reaches thanks to her, and Elanor made a deal with the city that it would give up the leader. I don't think she trusted it much, but that was fine. I got to be a heroic idiot and peer around a corner." Rolling his shoulders, Hreti considered the clothes and then took them off again. Calling to his new combined heritage of lupine and draconic, scales, fur, and body mass poured onto his already large frame. By the time the changes were done, he was a foot and a half taller, nearly a foot wider, and his thick tail was swishing side to side behind him.

Still remembering fighting against the wolves, Brayden didn't fail to notice the tone Hreti used when talking about Elanor. It sounded, to Brayden, that Hreti had been showing off for her. "I'm sure she'll be happy her ride back wasn't in vain." His words causing a brief flash of confusion on Hreti's face confirmed it. "Astrid, I mean."

Hreti was no one's idiot. "Am I that obvious?" When Brayden held up his hand, finger and thumb a small distance apart, Hreti laughed. "She is a strong-willed woman. She won't be influenced by meekness. If I don't stand up and act, I will have no chance."

Nodding, leaving such matters to the men involved—and Elanor in particular—Brayden moved on. "Okay then. Trav, can you help out Hreti with any missing upgrades he has coming to him?"

"Oh! Hi, Hreti. Sorry I didn't say anything earlier, but Brayden was a bit too fast for me. According to your details, you have finished Tank. That means you have all those goodies Fife has now," Travis said, listing out the abilities for Hreti.

"Hard Head?" Hreti couldn't help himself from laughing at that. "That's how I died in West Reaches: a cannon took my head off."

Travis laughed along with him. "I don't know if Hard Head would stop that, but Riposte might. Fife has been deflecting a lot of wild stuff with that. But, now you've got that squared away, what are your thoughts now? I have Ranger being worked on, which I think will give bonuses to all ranged attacks."

"What did Astrid pick?" It was simple. Hreti would follow in his pack leader's example.

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Brayden cleared his throat. "She's trying something different. She chose Priest."

It wasn't completely comfortable. Astrid could feel the power come from outside herself, and yet it wasn't the god Brayden spoke of, nor was it the one Elanor followed with fervor. During her life, though, she'd learned that only by confronting awkward things did truth come out. "I don't know who you are, or what your chosen path is, but you grant me this power freely?"

Bookkeeper had to squint down the tiny thread of a connection to the woman who spoke. Even with her glasses on, it was hard to discern one follower with the weakest of links from the multitude of others. But, fine detail being her thing, Bookkeeper did what she could to reassure Astrid. There was no space to send words down such a link, so emotions would have to do.

Encouragement. Pride. Excitement. Astrid shook her head at the sensation of feeling another's emotions. Whatever it was that Travis had connected her with, they didn't seem hostile to her. "I'll take that as a yes. I don't think I will worship you, not like I've seen some, but if you help me fight, I'll respect you enough to talk to my pack about you. They'll all need their own new classes, and unless any die in the coming fighting, they will have a choice between this and using ranged weapons.

"If I couldn't feel you, I'd think this was some kind of joke or that you don't exist. But I can feel your emotions, and they definitely aren't mine reflected. For now, that will be enough. Later, though, I want to talk about this, about you, and about us."

Taken a little aback by the tone, Bookkeeper nonetheless found herself enjoying these odd new followers that Travis had gained her. Monsters—her normal monsters—were fine for their devotion. They worshiped their dungeons, and that worship passed through to her, which she used to fuel the system she had built.

A feeling of contentment was all Astrid got in reply.

The moment they had David in the clear, Elanor breathed a sigh of relief. Troops rushed past their group, moving to take the compromised keep and end the fighting as quickly as possible. What worried her, despite this victory, was West Reaches herself and the missing Eliza—her former cousin. "Where's Liz?"

"Somewhere you'll never find." David smiled ruefully. "I was such an idiot. Hoping to spring a legitimate heir on the world who would inherit everything—when I had a most capable one already. It matters little now. I own nothing anymore." Ahead, David could see what had been built in the city's main square: a set of gallows.

"At least tell me why," Elanor said. "Why all this senseless bloodshed and murder? You even tried to kill the kingdom itself."

"I wish I'd had time to change into something more fitting. The answer, niece, is simple. Have you ever seen how things were working? How an entire huge system was failing to do what it had been built to—and felt the need to fix it? To strip away the mistakes and temporary fixes and do the job how it should have been in the first place?" David gestured forward, at the target of his forced march. "You are doing that now, so I have to assume you do. That happened to me. I saw the kingdom failing to work. There was nobility doing favors for each other, putting incompetent leaders into positions of power for no other reason than a misplaced assumption that they deserved to.

"My first step was to take power. Yes, I would use the incompetent and stupid as my own tools to do so. Your cousins…" Shaking his head, David felt somewhat at ease that the fools had been purged. "But I needed to do that. She—"

Elanor almost missed a step when David clamped his mouth closed and stopped talking. She'd been around her former family enough to know West Reaches would have been the "she" he was about to talk of, and that whatever he'd been about to say would implicate her. "She's not going to be sentenced."

David's head jerked as if Elanor had yanked on a string attached to it.

"Firstly, she made a deal with us. She wanted this over and peace back. You think we could rip through that gate like we did the outer one? You were prepared this time. There would be no surprise wolves sneaking over your walls and securing the gatehouse unopposed." Elanor didn't know what she wanted from the conversation. The deal was struck with West Reaches. There would be no going back on it to make an example of her. Cities were just too valuable.

It wasn't betrayal, not in David's mind. He loved West Reaches too much and respected her beyond measure. Knowing she would live on gave him enough bravery to face his very short future. "Good."

The finality of the word hit Elanor like a hammer. Even knowing the truth, knowing he'd been turned over by her, he was still firm in his belief. She walked him in silence to the gallows where Stewart was waiting.

Marching up the stairs to the platform, David felt all fear leave him. He stood and listened as Stewart read out the crimes: regicide, noble murder, and the attempted murder of the kingdom itself. He was surprised that their ploy hadn't worked. "If I could ask one thing?"

David had held his words for the end. There wasn't much left to say. "Go ahead."

"How did the kingdom survive?"

Without any fanfare, Stewart explained. "Through the efforts of gods and dungeons. We also have that dungeon to thank for the supply of adamantine used to pursue this war, as well as the shock troops who took your city's outer gates and your keep. I've already lined up knighthoods for all of them, but I think I may even find the need to create a new order specifically for them. And that speaks nothing of my thanks for Lady Penelope, the dragon who ensured my army was never surprised in the field.

"In short, David of West Reaches, we struggled and survived despite every machination you could think of, but there's one more crime I will pronounce you guilty of as I slip that noose around your neck. One of the King's Guard, Harrow, took one of your assassins' poison meant for me. It killed him in a way that ripped his soul from his body and defied all ability to resurrect." As he spoke, Stewart slipped the heavy rope around David's neck. Once in place, he drew his own dagger and began slicing the man's clothing free. "He was like a big brother to me, David, and you didn't hesitate to cut him down. If for none of the others—even my own father—I would see you hanged for killing Harrow."

When the last of David's clothes were cut free and boots removed, to show that he wore no talismans, Stewart walked over to the handle of the gallows trap door. "Anything else?" When David shook his head, Stewart pulled the lever.

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