Longclaw sighed as she entered the room: Grimfalk was wearing that stupid hat again, which meant that he’d be glued to the sofa for hours. The theropod deity looked eminently bored, flipping channels with a reckless abandon that made even her enhanced perception struggle to keep up with the constant flickering. There was a lot more variety these days, but, somehow, nothing seemed quite as exciting as the early days of the System’s arrival, when every Champion mattered and every fight was a struggle that kept the pair on the edge of their seats. Longclaw sat down and waited a few minutes before finally clearing her throat to get Grimfalk’s attention.

  “Why don’t you go for a hunt,” she suggested. In response, Grimfalk grunted and shifted a bit in his spot, nestling just a bit further down into the padded cushion. Longclaw continued to stare at him until he finally acknowledged her.

  “I just got back from hunting,” he answered, sounding defensive. “I was out for a long time, too. Got some really good exercise.”

  “That was two days ago,” the other theropod reminded him with as much patience as she could muster. “You’ve been channel surfing like crazy ever since then. What’s the matter?”

  Grimfalk sighed and, much to Longclaw’s relief, reached up and removed his drink-dispensing hat.

  “I don’t know. Things just haven’t been the same lately. It’s hard to put it into words.”

  Longclaw allowed the silence to stretch out, knowing from long experience that Grimfalk would eventually elaborate.

  “It’s just…well…I’ve been working so hard to revive my following, and we’ve had more success lately than we’ve had in millions of years. I mean, look at all these Champions: I’ve got some ostriches, emus, cassowaries, rheas, and even a kiwi. And of course we have a bunch of roosters running around. But the struggle just isn’t there in the same way. The big birds haven’t really leveled up much, and the roosters are hardly fighting at all! Yeah, they are making a lot of chicks, but without more theropod DNA, it’s going to take forever for me to get one that breeds true. And, of course, Flockheart will want to renegotiate our contract as soon as possible.”

  Longclaw tapped her chin with one of her nails as she considered the dilemma. She could see Grimfalk’s point, but overall, their plan was working. Boring was good. Boring was profitable.

  “But when things aren’t going badly all the time, that’s good, right? You’re getting so much more DKP now than you used to. I can literally feel you getting stronger as your followers grow in number and in strength. So what if Flockheart wants to raise prices? You can choose to be pickier with your choice of chickens at this point. You’ve got other deals, other options. Go get some kiwis if you want: they’re cheap. Listen, sitting here brooding isn’t going to fix your problems. Why don’t you go hang out with someone if you don’t want to go hunting? Brett and Canius might be free…”

  Grimfalk sighed.

  “That’s another issue. After our Champions went missing, things have been weird between us. They keep acting like nothing even happened! How am I supposed to move past that? And they’ve always got some new deal going on…I can’t keep up. Yeah, it’s great that we have the farms up and running. Humans, canines, and a bunch of hens that are protected by one of my Champions. But they don’t really want to talk about that.”

  “How many Champions did you lose yesterday?" Longclaw interjected.

  “Huh? I lost, uh, one.”

  “How many do you think that Brett or Canius lost?”

  “I dunno, a hundred each? Maybe more.”

  “Exactly!” Longclaw answered, holding up a claw and wagging it at Grimfalk. “It’s a matter of perspective. To them, the farm deal is one of a hundred things that they have going on. But for you, it’s one of the biggest deals you’ve made yet. You’re going to have to accept that if you want to regain your spot near the top: there is always another angle to play, always more power to be gained.”

  “Yeah, but like, where did all the Champions go? The System won’t tell us! And how come my DKP earnings have spiked since Charlemagne disappeared,” the theropod deity demanded. “How can I ignore that?”

  “They have, huh?” Longclaw said, leaning forward and pulling out her tablet to check Grimfalk’s financials. It had been a few days since she’d done any work at all, having taken a few days of her accumulated leave to rewatch one of her favorite human television programs. Her eyes bulged as she saw the DKP balance.”

  “Just what has that rooster been up to?” she asked in amazement.

  Charlemagne had decided to give the other members of the Party a chance to catch their breath. Or perhaps he was just blowing off steam. He didn’t really know or care which it was. All that he cared about at the moment was clearing the wave 40 Boss, Ehuud. With greatly improved Attributes, he felt that he now had a shot at surviving the Boss’ Endless Blizzard attack. His Ember Shield Skill level had also gone up, and he was hopeful that it would do something interesting at level 10.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Putting his other goals aside for the moment, he plowed through the waves, using his Advanced Fowl Arts to great advantage when feasible and taking out those who posed special challenges to melee fighters with small but powerful mana balls. His increased Attributes made a huge difference in the speed at which he advanced through the waves, and he reached level 40 less than fifteen minutes later with his Ember Core almost completely topped up.

  Wave thirty-nine complete! Wave forty commencing! Note: this is a Boss wave

  The familiar form of the Boss took shape across from Charlemagne and welcomed the rooster once again.

  “I am Ehuud, Arch Arcanist, the Siege Breaker, Conqueror of the Planes, Keeper of the Seven Hearthstones, Lord of Dungeons, and Master of Magics. I would know your name, you who are worthy of my personal attention.”

  “Bawk,” the rooster took the time to declare before he began to charge an attack that dwarfed any of his previous attempts. The Boss, following its script, cried out and retreated. As it did, it threw up a mana shield, hiding behind it as it waited for the inevitable assault.

  Charlemagne’s mana had grown in ways that were difficult to quantify. Yes, there was more of it since he had leveled up, but it also felt denser in its base form, as if the quality of the mana had also increased. This meant that it fought against his efforts to compress it, forcing the rooster to struggle against it so powerfully that his vision began to narrow from the effort.

  The Boss did not seem to be worried, however. Its dialogue remained unchanged from all the other times that Charlemagne had faced it.

  “You are not some sort of mutated cockatrice, it seems. And yet I can’t seem to get a steady read on your combat potential…it keeps going up slowly. Well, no matter, get on with it. Fire your puny attack so I can put an end to this farce.”

  Brimming with confidence that this time things would end differently, Charlemagne fired.

  “Buck-kawk!”

  The immense blue-white ball broke the sound barrier as it cracked through the air and detonated upon contact with the Boss’ mana shield, flooding the entire battlespace with a blinding light that persisted for quite some time.

  When Charlemagne could see his opponent again, his chest puffed outward in satisfaction. The mana shield had been breached, allowing his attack to leave deep lacerations across the Boss’s body. Despite bleedingly freely, however, it seemed not to notice its injuries at all.

  “Impressive!” it shouted as he raised both hands and clapped. “Very good indeed. You have bested my defenses, and I sense that the fire you possess will not fail easily. Very well, you have earned the right to see the ultimate in ice magic. It was a pleasure fighting you, Charlemagne. Absolute Zero!”

  Instantly, heat began to drain out of the room as the kinetic energy of the molecules that composed the air, floor, ceiling, and walls was sapped by the incredibly complex spell woven by the Boss. What was worse, the ability was self-perpetuating: the kinetic energy was converted back into mana, which allowed it to drain and convert more kinetic energy. The rooster fought with all his might against the spell’s effects, but he was a master of mana, not momentum. Thus, he had no idea how to keep the individual particles that comprised his Ember Shield safe from being ravaged, their energy sapped away and stolen to power his opponent. In response, more mana flooded through his Veins of Lava Skill and then channeled into his waning shield, but the results were the same. The rooster was slowly losing ground, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  In less than a minute’s time, Charlemagne’s mana had been complexly drained, and he found himself once again fighting for his life. His lungs had long been paralyzed by a combination of the freezing temperatures and the continual energy drain. His mind grew sluggish and his sight dimmed as, despite his best efforts, he was forced to surrender to the cold embrace of death.

  He blinked twice, finding himself back in the plaza. The Squiggles informed him that he had, at least, gained a few Skill levels.

  But it wasn’t enough. He had still lost, and Ember Shield hadn’t even done anything good upon reaching level 10. There was something that he was still missing. With a mental command, he ordered the Squiggles to return him to his dormitory. He needed some time to himself.

  After sending a message to the Party to alternate between tackling the Individual and Group Battle Simulations, forfeiting only when they became too injured to fight, the rooster settled down for a good brooding session. As he perched on his plank, he thought back to his most recent failure against the wave 40 Boss, Ehuud. Even the huge increase in Attributes hadn’t been enough to tank the Boss’ ultimate move: Absolute Zero. It was a power as terrifying as it was mystical, taking all of the momentum from the surrounding air and then turning it into mana. His own mana ball attack seemed clumsy in comparison. Sure, it held incredibly destructive power, but it wasn’t an elegant solution at all. It was just a mass of fiery mana that he condensed using willpower before sending outward.

  Charlemagne considered ways that he could increase his attack power further. Sending the mana through his Veins of Lava skill before focusing it had been an incredible achievement, giving him both hotter flames and better control over the resulting attack. Could he refine it further? Thinking back to the time that he had breathed deadly radiation at a feline Champion, the rooster was sure that he could. Right now, he couldn’t convert his mana to radiation: he could only go the other way. But maybe there was a way that he could learn to change his mana to radiation, store the radiation somewhere, and then convert it back when he needed it? What if he could change the ambient mana in the battle space into radiation?

  It was certainly something that he should consider trying. With that decided, the rooster began to experiment with his mana, attempting to transform it to something other than fire. He thought back to the way that radiation had felt to his magical senses, as fast as light but heavier, with a strange penchant for slamming into nothingness and emerging changed. Minutes passed as he attempted to replicate that feeling inside him, but the rooster felt absolutely nothing. An hour passed, then two.

  Charlemagne gave up entirely and sent out another call over the Party chat. It was time to try something else.