Rob X Punzel ~ Thirty-Four!

The Alchemist's hand began to glow, but just before he could unleash whatever he was preparing, the sound of hundreds of armored boots running along cobblestone filled the air. As the first of the new arrivals rounded the bend, showing themselves to be another company of city guards, the Alchemist’s face twisted into a deep scowl, even as the glow collected at his fingertips faded away.

“I had hoped they were stationed nearby, but that was lucky,” Crunch muttered gratefully as he motioned the guards closer.

Glaring at Goldie, he ground out a threat through his clenched jaw. “As soon as you fail and are thrown into prison for your crimes, I'll be around to collect you. I had hoped to spare you the loss of one of your hands for being convicted as a thief, but since you’re so abyssally determined to suffer… fine. I'll be waiting. To keep myself entertained, I'll be asking your little coconspirator for every single detail of your life. He's been extremely helpful thus far. I’ve no doubt he will lead me right to Joss, Tauren, Luca… and so many more at that little orphanage. I think they need a change in leadership.”

Dramatically swirling around with his chin held high, the Alchemist began walking away… in the same direction Goldie and the guards needed to go. They followed after the man as if they were a massive invasion force, hundreds of guards trailing along uncertainly even as more joined after following the emergency beacon the captain had lit. Mercenaries wearing weathered armor kept pace alongside the Alchemist, dozens, then scores gathering up as they moved along.

Through the slums, all the way to the noble district, the parade snaked through the narrow, then wide streets gathering combatants the whole way. Finally, as they began their climb toward the summit of the mountain in the center of the ringed capital city, the captain turned to Goldie, pulling out a key to unclip her manacles. Flashing him a grin, she simply handed them over, her hair having long-since picked the locks. He glanced at the offered item, shaking his head as he took them from her.

“You know… technically, as you’ve shown enough strength to remove these on your own,” The captain hesitated before finishing his statement, “I don’t have any right to arrest you. Especially as you do not have any of the stolen goods this man claims you took. A crafter like him, someone from outside of our city, does not get to walk in and accuse one of our people of being a thief simply because he decides to do so. Even though you were in a restricted area… at worst, that earns you a beating.”

He lifted an eyebrow, face going hard as he continued, “Yet, I must recommend that you follow through with your decision to go into the queen's arena. While you face death there, it’s not a guarantee. Something tells me that, if you try to run again, you will simply vanish from the city, never to be seen again. Figure out how to come out of there as someone other than who they expect.”

Elaborating further, the captain lowered his voice to ensure the alchemist couldn't hear his words. “Find a disguise, maybe earn protection from someone with enough backing to force them to stand down, or perhaps… you look young enough that perhaps you haven’t unlocked all of your skills. Just remember that having your own power is the only thing that can guarantee your safety. Mayhaps you stay in there until you have what you need.”

She simply nodded silently, too tense and tired to make a plan to escape yet again. They continued walking, and she cautiously trailed a finger along her arm to see what skill she had managed to increase.

Skill increase! Akashic Interface [Level 1 (Minimal) → Level 2 (Limited)]!

[Limited] control over internal usage of any of the modifiers of an artifact for [10] seconds per minute.

[Limited] control over external usage of any of the modifiers of an artifact for [10] seconds per minute.

[Limited] empowerment of the modifiers of an artifact in touch range by [20]%

Requirement to advance to level 3: Intentionally Empower ten separate artifact modifiers OR activate the internal usage of ten separate artifact modifiers OR activate the external usage of ten separate artifact modifiers OR any combination of the previous requirements without channeling your intent through a rune.

“Okay…” Goldie murmured to herself, face scrunched in confusion as she looked over the skill. “How did I do… any of that?”

Her face smoothed, and she leaned back in surprise as yet another notification scribbled itself across her arm, replacing the first.

Skill increase! Bad Hair Yester-Morrow [Level 6 (Considerable) → Level 7 (Proficient)]!

Requirement to advance to level 8: Perform a feat of timed counter-phasing, using the Temporal Trapdoor to dodge a fatal blow, repositioning yourself behind your attacker and landing an attack on them before they realize where you are.

“Well, that just seems… unlikely to happen.” Goldie frowned as she reread the words, trying to understand how she could go from in front of someone to behind them using the ability. With a slow dawning of realization, she looked up to the sky as an idea jumped out at her. “I've been thinking of a ‘barrier’ only as a floor or a wall, but didn't wrapping a cloak around myself force the skill to let me through it? What if I could consider a person a barrier?”

Her introspective pondering cut off as they circled around a switchback on the side of the mountain, and the palace came into view in all its glory. It was a breathtaking masterpiece of architecture, rising above cloud-shrouded cliffs. As they’d been walking most of the night to cross the districts, then climb the mountain, the first glints of morning light were reflecting off the highest points of the polished stone. It was clear this structure had been carved directly from the heart of the summit itself, shaped into elegant, sweeping arches and grand facades.

The main structure sat on the carved mountain like a crown, with delicate, spiraling columns overlooking the world below and offering a panoramic view of the city far below. Goldie found herself walking, almost in a trance, toward the main entrance, only for Kapitän Crunch to grip her shoulder and pull her to the side. She pouted slightly, wanting to see more of the majestic structure. As she turned to follow him, her eyes lingered on a huge, almost perfectly circular section of the palace wall that had been repaired with a type of stone that didn’t match the rest of it.

“What happened there?” she wondered aloud and was surprised when she received an answer a moment later, prompting her to turn toward the captain.

“When the queen first entered the kingdom and declared herself its co-ruler, she did so by fighting her way to the palace and making her own entrance,” Crunch explained with no small amount of respect in his voice. “You'll find a section of every wall, from the outer edge to the inner palace, has a set of repairs exactly like this in them—she walked in a straight line, destroying everything in her path. It's quite an honor to own one of the estates with the mark of the queen's fist on it. She'll usually choose at least one of them each month to visit. It spawns a massive party every time she does so, part of why she is so beloved by the people.”

Goldie barely heard him; she was focused on carefully inspecting her hair, trying to find why it hadn't muffled her inner thoughts. As her hand trailed over the lengths of her tresses, she realized something unusual—it had woven itself into a long, intricate braid, a sharp contrast to the curly ringlets or wavy length she usually sported. “What’s-”

The shining parade of violent warriors marched around the edge of the palace at that moment, and an absolute eyesore of a tower was revealed.

It was set into a cliff that had been manually cleared, though there’d been no attention put behind creating a harmonious, flat surface. It was as if someone had simply scraped away all of the dirt and plants, leaving behind a wavy, mismatched walkway. The tower itself was built from hulking blocks of stone, its construction seeming to have the same attention to detail as a child with enormous strength stacking blocks. Uneven surfaces and mismatched stones created a chaotic patchwork of gray, black, and browns hundreds of feet long at the base. The tower itself narrowed sharply as it rose, giving the strange structure the awkward appearance of a fighting ring with a pyramid stacked atop it.

It looked squat and unfinished, and the jagged cracks burrowing through the stones made it clear this wasn’t something that had been built to last. Oddly enough, there was stadium seating rising around the tower, up to half of its height in places. As far as Goldie could tell, there was nothing for any spectators to see, which simply ratcheted her confusion higher as she was led to the confusing structure. “What am I looking at?”

Crunch glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes before giving a slight, dismissive tilt of his head and looking away. Goldie lapsed into silence, realizing only then how familiar she’d been acting with her captor, a city guard, a person diametrically opposed to her way of life. “Right… I’ll just… find out when we get there.”

She was led to the entrance to the wide arena built around the shoddy tower, directly to a large metal gate which was barred on the outside—obviously intended to keep those who entered inside. Royal guardsmen watched the enormous parade cautiously, though to their credit, the bare handful on duty seemed perfectly comfortable with the idea of engaging with the entirety of the approaching group if necessary.

One of them shifted slightly, languidly calling out, “Halt, if you wouldn’t mind. The only people allowed past this point are contenders for the princely prize, women ages eighteen to thirty-two with an empty Conjoined skill slot. Most of you are men, so… no.”

Goldie walked out of the phalanx, which had remained in place around her for the entirety of their forced march, quickly approaching the door. As she swept past the Alchemist, goosebumps raced along her skin as she came within reach of the elaborately dressed man. He leaned forward slightly, hand outstretched to caress her hair, but it avoided his grasp, even without her intervention. The man chuckled slightly, calling after her in a bright, happy tone, “I'll see you soon, Goldilocks! Well, more like you'll seek me out. Your friends, all of them, and I will be spending some quality time together until then.”

Not having a rebuttal for his words, she could only wait impatiently as the bar was lifted off the gate, and the path inside was revealed. Eyebrow raising, she scanned the absolutely packed arena, realizing she had interrupted an announcement coming from a herald standing on a raised dais near the center of the space. Each step forward drew more attention, and soon she had to grit her teeth against the discomfort of hundreds of pairs of eyes boring into her.

The mix of people in the area was surprising; there were plenty of noblewomen in all their finery, standard citizens in well-made, magical clothes, as a healthy dose of those from the slums. Although they had separated out somewhat, the mere fact that they were in such a confined space meant seeing groups of people who typically wouldn't associate with each other being pressed together. As she joined into the crowd, whispers erupted behind cupped hands, an instant rumor mill forming.

“Did you see the entourage she came here with? This must be some foreign princess, come to vie for the prince.”

“The man who bowed to her was wearing formal alchemist robes. They won't even bow to the king… who is she?”

“I don't care who she is, the prince is mine. If she gets in my way, I won't hesitate to stab a-”

“We should group up and take her down quickly. Who knows what kind of class she has? Nobles always get the best skills, but royalty is practically guaranteed to have at least one Legendary skill.”

“I’m on board.”

“It’s decided.”

“Abyss.” Goldie let out a despairing grumble as she tried to memorize the faces of those closest to her, planning to get as far away from them as possible.

The metal gate boomed behind her as it was closed, a heavy thud immediately afterward signaling the bar being put back into place. The cool, melodic voice of the herald rose above the crowd, though he stammered slightly as he failed to remember where he’d left off, and so chose to start from the beginning.

“Guests of the queen, your attention, please!” As the strong, practiced words swelled, the muttering in the area died away. “The time has come for me to explain the process for this… shall we say, unique opportunity?”

This caused a laugh to roll through the crowd, an inside joke Goldie had clearly missed due to her late arrival.

“As the tenth cohort to make this attempt, you will have an even more intense challenge than those who went before you!” The herald’s voice lowered dramatically, and even Goldie felt herself leaning in to hang on every word. “The first cohort only had to climb the tower and keep an eye on their rivals, but with each successive attempt, the danger has risen dramatically! Each of you will need to push your way past not only each other, but all of those who have gone before you!”

“That's right!” He returned to shouting as concerned voices tried and failed to speak over him. “No one before you has yet succeeded, but they could at any moment. You will need to put all of your skills to the test if you’re going to make up for lost time. Now, let me explain what you will face on the first floor of… the tower!”

Goldie squinted up at the imposing tower overhead, scintillating morning light causing tears to form at the corner of her eyes and forcing her to blink rapidly. Her gaze shifted down to the overly dramatic speaker as his hand swept down from where it was gesturing at the tower to press on his chest just over his heart. “Each of you has the chance to ascend this tower, one floor at a time, and face the challenge awaiting you there. It will test every part of you, to ensure that the one who makes it through is truly fit to be the next queen of the Brute Queendom… that is, Kingdom!”

No one seemed concerned at his clearly intentional faux pas, the slight curling of his lips and knowing nodding only further cementing his true meaning. “The only information I can give you is… the first floor is a test of your combat ability. Exotic animals, awakened beasts, and even true monsters have been brought in to test not only your ability to fight, but to see if you have the ineffable quality of fate in your favor. From what I've seen so far… most do not.”

There was a lingering moment of silence as he allowed their thoughts to run rampant. “Once you pass the fifth floor, you will meet the king, queen, and the prize—the prince. Yet, I know, as do the rest of you, that only one can claim him. Because of this, the queen in her generosity has offered an alternative. A reward for the first in each cohort to clear each floor, or at least the first to accept the floor’s prize. Survive this first floor, make it to the exit, and you will be given a pardon for any of your past crimes and released into the capital city below.”

Excited whispering sprang up at even this shoddy offer, and it didn't escape Goldie's notice that the only people with excitement etched on their faces were those from the slums. Anyone who lived in a higher social circle of the ringed city only looked at those people with disdain. “Fear not, the rewards increase exponentially for each floor of the tower you climb. On the second floor, should you be the first to reach the exit, you will receive a handsome sum of money and be given a shop in the artisan district, with guaranteed protection from the crown for the first year as you grow your new business.”

Goldie felt her eyes go wide, and she wasn't the only one with a shocked expression. There was no free space whatsoever in the artisan district—for each cohort to get a shop of their own, at least ten businesses would need to exchange hands. Even the noble women around Goldie seemed intrigued at the offer. The herald had their attention previously, but now he had their interest. “Make it to the third, and you will be granted a position in the citizens’ council.”

Though she didn't understand what was so exciting about that, even the most elaborately dressed noble women were practically shaking in excitement at the announcement—Goldie could only assume it was quite the grand prize in their minds. “The fourth floor, and you will be granted a position in the palace itself, chosen as a royal advisor based on whatever your skill set may be. As to the fifth floor? Claiming the prize will allow you to serve the royal family directly. Only those who believe they are queenly material may make the attempt at the sixth floor, but be warned… the final say still rests with Their Majesties.”

Clenching her hands in excitement, Goldie sucked in a sharp breath as the wound on her bicep flared up, and she gripped the injury with her off hand. “Celestial feces, forgot to keep you still. Whoo… okay. If I want enough backing to force the alchemist guild to stand down, I'm going to need to get to at least the… third floor?”

It was a strange, twisted game, but the rewards were life-changing, no matter what she managed to secure. The herald looked around, his mouth firmly closed as a hushed tension filled the air. “Just so you all know, the doors to the first trial will open sharply at midday and close thirty minutes later. Anyone who does not enter through the doors will be expelled from the palace grounds. Until then… do as you will.”

A door in the dais opened under him, and he dropped out of sight. For several heartbeats, the women simply watched the space he had stood with surprise in their eyes.

Then a spray of crimson liquid splashed into the air as a slum dweller drove a shank into a noble woman's shoulder and sawed it out in the same motion. A wail escaped the injured lady's lips, signaling the start of the arena devolving into a cacophonous melee.