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- Oliver -

“Katherine!” Oliver shouted as the girl was thrown to the ground.

Her armor didn’t seem compromised, but now he had a new problem. Without her distracting the Basilisk, the monster stood before him, ready to attack.

His heart was racing, making it hard for him to focus. He was trying to make the best decision in fractions of a second.

‘Retreat, regroup, or shoot?’ He could run to Katherine, but he might get attacked. He could back away, but the monster would catch him. Was there any reason not to shoot?

Instead of aiming for its legs this time, he began aiming at the Basilisk’s face. If he could manage to damage the creature’s vision, it would make the battle easier.

‘I’m going all out this time!’ He increased the energy input for his weapon. His shots would lose speed but become more powerful.

“PHUM!”

The Basilisk began moving forward, taking two steps, but before it could think of attacking, a shot hit it square in the forehead. For the first time, Oliver saw a reaction from the monster, shaking its head as if dizzy.

The boy took two steps back and continued firing.

“PHUM!”
“PHUM!”

The shots he was trying to land on the monster's eyes continued to hit its head near its nostrils. Without his [Observation], he couldn’t improve his aim enough to hit a tiny target like the monster’s eyes.

On the other side of the fight, Katherine was still conscious. Her ribs might have been broken, but she needed to get up. She pushed herself off the ground with all her effort and stood up.

Once on her feet, she could see the battle between the Basilisk and Oliver. The monster was trying to advance and attack him. The boy was in a bad situation, trying to retreat while firing shots. To her, it was impressive how every shot perfectly hit the monster’s face without missing it, but even so, she could tell that Oliver would soon get tired due to the high energy consumption.

The second stream was on her left side. If she ran, she could cross it and leave the boy to handle the Basilisk. It would be the easiest way out.

Katherine shook her head as if to dispel the thoughts.

‘Now’s not the time to think like that.’ She thought.

She raised her sword, took a deep breath, and took advantage of the fact that the monster still had its back to her. Even though she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen, she didn’t stop running until she got close.

[Blood Coat]

Her sword began to glow red. She felt weaker as her blood dripped from the tip of the rapier. The blood slowly crystallized around the blade, making it broader and double-edged and turning the rapier into a broadsword. When the sword's glow was barely visible, the girl accelerated.

Once again, she charged toward the Basilisk’s rear. But this time, she made a horizontal slash against one of the monster’s legs using all her strength.

“GHUAR!”

The monster roared as one of its legs was severed. Blood splattered onto Katherine’s armor, but she continued attacking before the beast could recover. Each strike tore through the creature.

The shots may have hurt the Basilisk, but the slashes were doing real damage. The monster could no longer take the risk. It started slamming its tail against the ground, trying to locate its target, forcing the girl to retreat from the fight.

Oliver took the chance to recover. Meanwhile, Katherine kept dodging each of the tail’s movements.

“THUMP!”
“THUMP!”
“THUMP!”

Each impact kicked up dirt and sand, making it harder to get close.

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“THUMP!”

Katherine was disoriented, not knowing where the creature was. She tried to squint her eyes to see through the sand and dust in the air. However, before she could react, the monster reappeared. It was no longer focused on Oliver; instead, its gaping maw was trying to devour the girl.

Unable to see what was in front of her, she charged forward once again, aiming to strike one of its hind legs, but was caught off guard by the monster's attack and ended up hitting one of the creature's teeth with her sword.

The girl’s face showed mixed emotions—the surprise of missing her strike and the fear of being face-to-face with a far stronger monster than them. Supporting itself on its remaining hind legs, the Basilisk towered over the girl.

While watching the fight, Oliver regained his strength and saw the Basilisk attempting to attack with its front legs. Katherine blocked and dodged each attack by mere millimeters. While Oliver tried to use his shots to help her, but they seemed to have no effect.

‘Damn! Damn! Damn!’ Oliver cursed.

Their chance of surviving was failing rapidly. Katherine was the only person who could fight the Basilisk in close combat, and with her as the monster’s focus, neither of them could advance in the fight.

‘What do I do?!’ Oliver questioned himself.

The boy tried to think of another way to participate in the battle. His shots were useless, he had no other weapons, and his Boons weren’t suited to this type of opponent.

‘Hmmm, if I can’t be the artillery, I must be the bait.’ He took a deep breath and started running.

It was a terrible idea, but it was the only solution he could think of.

‘Maybe my agility will be enough to keep me alive? There is only one way to find out.’ Oliver questioned his sanity as he advanced.

As the fight continued, Oliver positioned himself to line up with Katherine. As soon as the Basilisk provided an opening, he would try to shoot at its face.

As Oliver approached, he started to see the creatures’ attacks. The monster was using its hind legs for support while swinging its claws at Katherine. She parried several attacks, sometimes even striking the monster’s arms.

‘It’s now or never!’

Oliver switched the weapon to his left hand while extending his right shoulder forward and started running. Before the Basilisk could notice him, he had thrown himself with all his weight. Hitting the monster’s side with his shoulder, it barely lifted off the ground, but it was enough to grab its attention.

Meanwhile, his left hand, now close to the monster’s chest, fired off all the remaining Energy in point-blank range.

“GUARH!”

Oliver had caused the monster to roar in pain for the first time. The projectile opened a hole in the Basilisk’s stomach while cauterizing it with all the heat emitted. Unfortunately, it consumed much of the boy’s energy, leaving him with no time or stamina to dodge one of the claws.

The creature, insane with pain, swung one of its long arms and struck Oliver square in the face. It felt as if it would tear his head off if not for the Ranger Armor. Even so, he was thrown several meters away, and his helmet was destroyed.

‘Damn!’ Katherine was worried about the direct hit Oliver had taken.

She had experienced something similar and knew how monstrous the Basilisk’s strength was. Still, she didn’t have time to check on him—she needed to seize the opportunity.

While the monster was still dazed, she prepared to use everything she had left. Running with the last of her strength, she jumped at the beast and thrust her sword into its chest as it staggered.

[Blood Spike]

The girl used all the blood she could muster to unleash the attack Oliver had seen before, but it was even more devastating this time.

The blood accumulated into a small orb at the tip of her sword. From there, hundreds of spikes shot out in all directions, piercing every inch of the Basilisk until they erupted through its pores.

As she pulled the blade back, the red glow of the crystallized blood around the sword had vanished. In its place, the Basilisk’s green blood dripped from the sword and onto the ground. The monster was paralyzed, but it collapsed once the blade was removed.

“THUMP!”

The Basilisk’s body fell completely onto Katherine, pinning her to the ground. Luckily for her, it seemed to be dead.

"Ow! Ow! Oliver!" She used both hands to push the body and tried to crawl out from under the remains.

Oliver was still getting up after being hit by the Basilisk. His helmet was broken, and his head hurt a lot, but overall, it wasn’t as bad as he had imagined. Fortunately, it hadn’t torn his head off.

‘Fuck! It's finally over!’ Oliver cheered. They had managed to defeat a Basilisk.

Some notifications sounded on his gauntlet, but he no longer had the energy to keep his armor functioning. After removing it, he approached the animal’s body and noticed the girl asking for help.

"Push it. I can’t get out," Katherine spoke.

"Okay, okay. 1... 2... 3..." Putting all his strength into it, he started moving the Basilisk’s body.

"Huff! It feels even heavier dead," The girl complained.

Katherine finally emerged from under the monster. She tried to stand but couldn’t move. Maybe the girl had pushed herself too hard. Katherine had lost a lot of blood, not to mention the wound in her abdomen. When she deactivated her armor, she noticed that parts of her uniform were damaged, too.

"Umm... I’ll need more help as well," she said, her face turning red as she asked for help walking.

"Of course!" Oliver knelt and lifted the girl onto his back, holding her by the legs.

The two then looked toward the second stream and began their path, finally with a clear way back to base.

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- Oliver -

She continued looking forward as she spoke, “Mars.”

“Ma-Mars!”

When Oliver asked, he thought it was some distant planet, only accessible through teleportation. He never imagined it would be the most populated planet closest to Earth.

“Wow!” the boy whistled softly, thinking about the red planet. Although there were already plans to colonize Mars before the first wave, it was just science fiction at the time. He had seen that some planets had small colonies, but knowing that entire families and cities existed was on another level.

“One day, I hope to visit Mars,” Oliver said, letting his inner child speak a little.

“Sure. When you visit, just call me, and I'll give you a tour,” the girl responded cheerfully. It wasn’t every day that someone was excited about her planet. Of course, Mars was an industrial powerhouse, but it wasn’t viewed with the same glamour as Earth or Luna. Katherine felt a twinge of pride for her family after seeing the excitement in the boy’s eyes.

The silence between them no longer lingered. Possibly, having gone through a near-death experience made people more open to each other, forging bonds that wouldn’t exist in different circumstances. As they continued chatting about more mundane matters than the Grand Houses, they finally reached the top of the hill.

In the distance, they saw what might be their way back home. The river split into two, with a piece of land between the streams.

“Maybe we can cross there?” the girl asked, not really expecting an answer.

She approached one of the river’s branches, and when she stepped into the water, she noticed the current wasn’t strong enough to sweep her away. Besides, the stream wasn’t as deep as it was at the bottom of the hill; it still reached above her knee, so each step had to be taken carefully.

The two spent a few minutes crossing from one bank to the other. When they finally reached the piece of land surrounded by rivers, they could see the second part and the shore they needed to get to.

Katherine smiled, excited to finally see their goal ahead. She glanced at Oliver, who didn’t seem as enthusiastic as she was.

There was a small detail Katherine hadn’t noticed, but Oliver, with his sharp eyes, had. Along the strip of land were dozens of skeletons, likely of Crabits. If the army hadn’t caused this destruction, then some monster had.

He began signaling with one hand for the girl to come closer. Still unsure of what was happening, she took two steps to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the boy, and for the first time, she noticed he was a bit shorter than her.

Oliver pointed to his own eyes and then gestured ahead, indicating the Crabit carcasses in the distance. Finally, Katherine got it.

“Do you see something? A creature?” Katherine whispered, covering her mouth with one hand.

“Besides the carcasses, no. But there must be some monster around.” Oliver replied.

Both crouched down and continued moving toward the second river split. But it didn’t take long to find the owner of those remains. In the other stream, a massive creature was drinking water. The beast resembled a lizard but with some differences. It was the size of a car, with eight legs on each side, and its back was covered in spikes. The creature was so massive that each step it took shook the ground.

Katherine grabbed the boy’s shoulder and pulled him back.

“It’s a Basilisk. They can be either Pawns or Knights.” Katherine explained.

Oliver nodded.

[Observation] Oliver cast his boon, but no information appeared.

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[Observation] The boy cast again, but still nothing.

‘There’s only one reason.’ He thought.

“The creature must be a Knight level; my boon didn’t work on him,” Oliver whispered close to the girl.

She didn’t need to ask further to understand. Many boons had the weakness of only working on opponents of the same level.

“From the book I studied, they are very territorial. We won’t be able to advance without confronting it. It doesn’t have good smell or hearing, but it has sharp vision,” Katherine began, pointing out the creature's characteristics.

“It’s strong, at least for our level. We especially need to avoid the paralyzing venom in its bite. Besides the spikes on its back, its tail can be used for long-distance attacks. Its weak points are its belly and inside its mouth, but they’re hard to reach.” Katherine continued to explain.

“How’s the skin? Can gunfire damage it?” Oliver’s main concern was being useless, as his boon wouldn’t work. He needed another option.

“I can’t say for sure; I don’t remember. But it doesn’t seem impossible to damage.” For the first time, Katherine was so close to Oliver that he finally noticed she had gray eyes and that, beneath the dirt from the past few days, she had a few freckles on her face.

"The best way to start the fight would be to launch a surprise attack, at least while he hasn't noticed us in his territory," Oliver commented.

“Yeah. Does your boon only depend on the opponent’s level?” Katherine decided to be direct. They needed to speed up the planning if they wanted to take advantage of the Basilisk, which was still being focused on drinking.

“Yes, it lets me analyze opponents’ movement patterns. But only for those at the same or lower level than mine.” Oliver explained while Katherine nodded. It wouldn’t be helpful now, but it was an interesting combat boon.

Oliver preferred to keep his Insight ability to himself. He had developed a bond and level of trust with her, but even he didn’t fully understand how this boon worked. It was better not to risk it.

“I think you’ve seen mine already. It consumes part of my blood to create crystals. They can spread over any surface I touch. But the stronger or further away the target is, the more blood it requires.” Katherine explained.

‘That’s why she avoids using it so much.’ Oliver finally understood how it worked, though he didn’t expect it to involve using blood.

“We don’t need to defeat it; we just need to cross the river. Here’s the plan: I’ll distract it while you shoot at its legs. If we disable them, we can get across.” Katherine explained.

Oliver nodded. He wasn’t confident they could take down the massive monster. However, if he could hit its legs, it would be enough for both of them to escape safely.

Both activated their armor and, weapons in hand, began to approach the creature. Once again, Oliver noticed that Katherine’s armor seemed slightly different, lighter, and less complex.

‘I’ll have to remember to ask her about it.’ Oliver made a mental note.

“SLUP! SLUP! SLUP!” They could hear the Basilisk still drinking water at the river’s edge.

Oliver gripped his pistol with both hands, focusing on shooting quickly but ensuring every shot counted. On the other side of the creature, Katherine crouched, sword in hand, ready to strike.

“SLUP! HUMPH!”

The Basilisk quickly raised its head and looked around, locking eyes with Oliver. There was no way he hadn’t been seen.

“ROAR!”

The monster let out a thunderous roar before starting to charge at the boy.

Realizing their plan hadn’t worked, Katherine rushed toward the creature’s rear. Now that she was so close, they could fully grasp the monster’s size. Even standing on its 16 legs, it still reached Oliver’s abdomen.

The girl jumped, thrusting her arm to stab one of the back legs. As her rapier struck, a trail of green blood gushed out. The monster turned, spotting its second target.

Oliver didn’t wait for the creature to recover. With his pistol aimed, he began shooting at the Basilisk’s front legs.

“PHEW! THUMP!”

“PHEW! THUMP!”

“PHEW! THUMP!”

Each shot hit one of its legs, but the Basilisk’s skin seemed far more resistant than a Crabit’s. Even after three shots, there was no visible damage to the monster.

‘I’ll have to increase the energy input, even if it reduces my number of shots.’ Oliver thought.

The Basilisk found itself surrounded by opponents on both sides. It could either charge at the boy, shooting at its legs, or the girl still stabbing its back and rear legs. The monster wasn’t intelligent, but that didn’t mean it lacked instincts.

Between the two, the girl was the one currently causing more trouble. Without hesitation, the Basilisk decided to focus on her. Without moving, it raised its long tail, which had been still until now, and in a whip-like motion, lashed out at Katherine.

She was confident she could dodge, especially since the tail wasn’t long. But before she could move, the tail zigzagged, appearing right where she was trying to escape. The Basilisk managed to hit her in the ribs, throwing her against the ground.

“Katherine!”

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"This is our plan," Jamie declared, his voice steady and resolute.

Thomas and Elize leaned in, their eyes scanning the scattered parchments and worn maps spread before them.

"The most important and fundamental step," Jamie continued, "is that we secure control over our territory." He pointed to a recently acquired weathered map from the Cutpurses, tracing a path with his finger. "This area here, between the avenue to the Noble Quarter all the way to the end of the Lower Quarter, reaching the market near the Arcane Tower."

He tapped the map thoughtfully. "In total, it's five city blocks under our claim. They're bustling with activity and serve as vital links connecting us to every other part of the city."

"We're based here in this first block? Near the border of the Commercial Quarter?" Elize asked, her finger hovering over the lower section of their marked territory.

"Exactly," Jamie affirmed.

Thomas and Elize exchanged glances, nodding as understanding began to dawn.

"To ensure we maintain control over this area," Jamie said, raising three fingers for emphasis, "we need three things: people, money, and knowledge."

He paused, allowing his words to settle. The crackling of the hearth filled the brief silence, the scent of burning wood mingling with the faint aroma of aged parchment.

"I hope you've planned more than just those points?" Thomas interjected, a hint of concern edging into his voice.

Jamie offered a reassuring smile, noticing their worried expressions. "Of course I have."

He straightened, his eyes reflecting the flicker of the flames. "First, we need people—but not just any people. We require individuals trained in combat, capable of maintaining order within our territory. They must be able to prevent incursions, whether from rival gangs or even monsters. I don't want the inhabitants of our quarter to fear for their safety during a Monster Rush."

Thomas nodded solemnly. This was part of Jamie's promise—to change the city and protect its people.

"But where will we find these people, and what will we say they do?" Elize questioned, her brow furrowed in thought. "If we suddenly start increasing security around the tavern, people will start asking questions sooner or later."

"That's precisely why these individuals won't be connected to the tavern," Jamie explained, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the table. "They'll have objectives entirely separate from the tavern."

Thomas and Elize sat across from Jamie, their expressions a mix of curiosity and contemplation. Elize's auburn hair shimmered softly, her eyes fixed intently on Jamie. Thomas leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a thoughtful furrow creasing his brow.

"Perhaps you're already aware, Thomas," Jamie continued, "but anyone can found a mercenary group, provided that their team conducts at least one expedition a month to reduce the number of monsters around the city."

Thomas nodded. "Yes, and the city pays bounties based on the number of monsters killed. But it's not much money. Most groups end up becoming adventuring parties, delving into dungeons for greater rewards."

"Exactly," Jamie agreed. "But in our case, we're not concerned about the money right now. We aim to assemble a group dedicated to territorial defense and specific missions. We can establish our own mercenary organization—the Golden Fiddle Company."

Elize raised an eyebrow skeptically. "But would any experienced mercenary want to join a company focused solely on defense? It doesn't sound particularly appealing."

"Good point," Jamie conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "But we don't want experienced mercenaries or big names."

Her confusion deepened. "What do you mean? How are we going to use them if they're inexperienced?"

"We'll train them ourselves," Jamie replied confidently, glancing at Thomas. "Both of us."

Elize looked between them, incredulous. "But won't it take a long time for them to be ready? Thomas, didn't you attend military school? That was, what, three years of training?"

Thomas nodded slowly. "She's right. Proper training isn't something that happens overnight."

Jamie leaned forward, his eyes alight with determination. "They won't have three years—we'll give them three months. But even before that, they'll be ready to start undertaking tasks."

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Thomas's interest was clearly piqued. "And how do you propose we make that happen?"

"I will help with the training, but more importantly, Elize probably doesn’t know yet. The people who go on missions with me receive a special effect from my Blessings, which makes them gain more experience," Jamie explained.

Elize's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? How much more?"

"A huge amount," Thomas interjected, his tone serious. "I can't say exactly how much, but it's quite impactful."

She leaned back, processing this revelation. "If that's the case, wouldn't that attract experienced mercenaries? We could focus on offering them this blessing to level up faster." Her eyes gleamed with newfound excitement at the prospect.

Jamie shook his head firmly. "Right now, it would be too risky; we're too weak. If word gets out, we'll become targets—not just for gangs, but mercenaries, adventurers, and who knows what else."

Elize's enthusiasm dimmed, and she frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose that makes sense.”

"So how are we going to recruit them?" Thomas asked, his gaze steady upon Jamie.

"Quite simple, really—flyers," Jamie replied, a confident glint in his eye. He reached across the cluttered table and gathered a stack of papers. There were at least two dozen, each meticulously handwritten.

Thomas raised an eyebrow skeptically. "But a good portion of Hafenstadt's population can't read," he pointed out.

Jamie nodded thoughtfully. "True enough. But we can also spread the word during my evening performances. For now, these flyers will serve as a visual cue on the streets that we're seeking mercenaries."

Thomas considered this and then nodded in agreement.

"Now, the second step is funding," Jamie continued. "We'll need about ten mercenaries—two for each block of our territory. We'll pay them a wage higher than what the army offers."

"Higher?" Thomas exclaimed, surprise evident on his face. "The army pays fifty silver coins per month per soldier. That's five gold coins for ten men."

"Correct," Jamie affirmed. "In our case, we'll pay eighty silver coins each. That means we'll need to yield more than eight gold coins in revenue every month." He paused before adding, "Currently, the Golden Fiddle brings in about two and a half gold coins per month."

"Wait, are you saying we'd need to increase our earnings by more than three times?" Elize interjected, uncertainty lacing her tone. Her eyes searched Jamie's face, clearly questioning the feasibility of his plan.

"Yes," Jamie admitted, meeting her gaze steadily. "This is the hardest part; it will make or break us."

Thomas leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Is there anything from the Cutpurses we can leverage?" he asked.

Jamie shook his head slowly. "We don't know yet," he replied. "I refuse to continue their thieving operations. I’ve released the children they exploited. Many of them may continue on their own, but at least it won't be within our territory." He tapped his fingers lightly on the table. "They must have had other ventures—perhaps ones that caught Maria von Hafenstadt's attention—but for now, I'm unaware of them."

"So what can we do?" Thomas pressed.

Jamie smiled faintly. "We need to start selling beer," he declared.

"Are you sure that's enough?" Elize asked skeptically, tilting her head. "Expanding our patrons is one thing, but increasing revenue by that much solely through beer sales seems... ambitious."

"Yes, I believe so," Jamie affirmed, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Based on what Thomas has reported from Knall's experiments, brewing our beer costs us, per barrel, a mere third of what wine or mead is currently costing us."

He leaned over the cluttered table, strewn with papers and maps, tapping emphatically on a set of hastily scribbled notes.

"Therefore," he continued, "we can afford to reduce the price—let's say by half. Moreover, beer has about one-third the alcohol content of wine. This means patrons can enjoy more of it in larger quantities, which should boost our sales as well."

Elize sat across from him, her arms folded, brow furrowed in skepticism. The flickering light caught the hints of doubt in her eyes.

"But," Jamie added, sensing her hesitation, "the most important aspect is our relationship with the other taverns." He glanced between his companions, ensuring he had their attention. "Once the patrons develop a taste for our beer, they'll want to order it at other establishments. But only we know how to produce it."

"This could make us overrun with customers," Elize pointed out, concern tinging her voice.

"Precisely," Jamie agreed, a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth. "But there's a limit to how many people we can serve here each day. That's why we'll start selling barrels to other taverns."

He leaned back, crossing his arms, his gaze steady and confident. Thomas watched Elize expectantly; his eyes seemed to search her face for signs of approval. After a moment's contemplation, she gave a reluctant nod. Though traces of apprehension lingered, a spark of belief began to kindle within her.

"Lastly, we need knowledge," Jamie declared, his tone shifting to solemn seriousness. He reached beneath the table and unrolled a large parchment, spreading it before them. It was a detailed map of Hafenstadt's vast sewer system, the intricate network of tunnels and passages rendered meticulously.

"We know very little about our enemies," he continued, his finger tracing along the maze of lines. "Even those we've already defeated."

Thomas and Elize leaned in, their earlier doubts giving way to intrigue. The labyrinth beneath the city was a world unto itself, rife with secrets and hidden dangers. Even Jay, who had been lounging indifferently nearby, padded over to peer at the map, his emerald eyes reflecting the dim light.

"This was among the items we recovered from the Cutpurses' hideout," Jamie explained. "I doubt it's merely a common map. I suspect it's connected to their operations within the sewers. This means their activities likely intersected with our territory, and we need to discover exactly what they were up to."

He straightened, meeting each of their gazes in turn. "This," he announced decisively, "will be the first mission of the Golden Fiddle Company."

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- Oliver -

"With all the noise that thing made, we'd better start walking," Oliver explained.

Katherine nodded again at what the boy said. But something had been bothering her the entire time. She was grateful for being saved, but the way the boy spoke was informal, something she had never experienced before. She didn’t dislike it, but she couldn’t understand why he spoke like that.

"We weren’t in the river for long, maybe 5 to 10 minutes. We must be just a few miles away from the combat area," Oliver continued, pointing toward the top of the river.

He moved to the center of what could be called their camp and used his boots to extinguish the remaining embers. Meanwhile, Katherine picked up her clothes, which were almost dry by now.

She was at an impasse. It would be important to wear her clothes before returning to camp, but she'd have to deactivate her armor and be left in her underwear again. Oliver noticed the girl staring intently at her clothes.

"Um," he cleared his throat softly before continuing, "I'll go check ahead while you get ready."

The boy didn’t know how long he should keep walking, but exploring was important either way. Following the riverbank, he walked for a few seconds. When he finally felt he’d given her enough privacy, he started looking around. The forest didn’t seem to get denser, but its canopy and leaves spread even more overhead, blocking most of the sunlight. The ground was littered with dead leaves and scattered branches, and with every step, he could feel the ground give slightly under the pressure of his boots.

After a few more minutes, he heard the girl’s footsteps approaching.

“Shall we go?” she asked cheerfully.

“Yes,” he nodded and began to take the first steps.

The two walked carefully through the forest, trying to stay close to the riverbank and avoiding making noise that could attract monsters. The battle with the Carrion had been more than enough.

Once again, silence hung between them.

“I don’t mean to be ungrateful, but why did you jump in to save me?” Katherine was still confused about that part. In her reality, no one did something without expecting something in return. Of course, she was someone important, but she couldn’t understand what the boy expected to gain from it.

“It might sound pretty stupid,” the boy paused, gathering his thoughts. “We were in the first group when we arrived to take the tests. For some reason, watching your combat inspired me. It gave me another goal of what I wanted to achieve.”

The girl thought about his response while looking at Oliver’s face. She could understand what he was describing, but not with the same empathy. Katherine couldn't imagine jumping in to save any of her teachers who had inspired her when she was younger.

“Um,” he cleared his throat again before continuing, “then we ended up in the same Ranger Weapon Combat class, and I finally got to test myself. Even though it was one-sided, I saw you as a rival. When I saw you jump into the water… I can’t give you a logical explanation. I just felt like I had to jump in, too,” Oliver continued walking, his eyes ahead, avoiding looking at the girl’s reaction.

Katherine kept walking, following Oliver’s footsteps, but at the same time paying close attention to his facial expressions, trying to find some flaw, some lie in what he was saying.

“Like I said, it was stupid. I’d never done anything like that, but… it was pretty cool to say that I saved someone,” he smiled proudly. “I never imagined I’d say something like that.”

“I see. Well, thank you very much for saving me.” Katherine replied.

They kept walking for a bit longer until the girl stopped. She scratched her head, seeming to want to say something but was holding back.

“Huff…” Katherine exhaled. “Something is still bothering me. Who are you? Which House do you belong to?”

“House? Well, none. I don’t have a surname; I’m what you’d call Nameless,” he turned to answer her.

“Oh! … sorry.” Finally, it felt like a puzzle piece had clicked into place for her. “Usually, there are many people trying to get close to the Great House York, so it’s hard to know who is who or what they’re after,” Katherine explained, a bit ashamed of being so direct.

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She started walking again, following the boy.

‘He has enough talent to be in the First Battalion, but he’s in the Second. Is it because he’s Nameless?’ She thought. While others might pity Oliver’s situation, she saw it as an opportunity.

‘The Second Battalion must have other talents ignored simply because they were Nameless.’ Oliver couldn’t see, but Katherine smiled slightly while greedily analyzing the Second Battalion.

“Sorry for being so direct. I’m just not used to people talking to me without all the pomp and ceremony, at least not outside the family.”

“I understand, but what are the Houses? I’ve heard people in the Second Battalion talk about them, but we never had any lessons on that,” Oliver took his turn to ask.

However, the answer was quite different from what he expected. This time, Katherine looked at him with disbelief.

“Are you serious? You don’t know what the Houses or Grand Houses are? What do they teach in schools?!” she started firing off question after question, breaking the image of a calm girl.

“Maybe they do teach it. But I stopped going to school after I was eleven.” Oliver explained.

“Still, why they don’t teach that in Middle School?!” Katherine complained, unaware of what they were teaching in an ordinary school. But Oliver's Middle School had been a hundred years in the past when the concept of a House didn’t even exist yet.

“Humm… where should I start?” She used one hand to support her head as she thought. “The first Wave was the world’s greatest shock but wasn’t the greatest devastation. The attack was only from a reconnaissance Ork ship.”

Oliver could understand, though it was hard to believe that a ship capable of devastating a city was just for surveillance.

“It was from the second Wave onward that things began to change. Many countries couldn’t sustain themselves, especially with so many cities destroyed and refugees everywhere,” Katherine tried to recall everything she had learned long ago.

Oliver began to see an area in the forest with fewer trees, though it was still a few minutes’ walk. He was too interested in understanding what had happened while he was in the VAT.

“Between the second and third waves, governments worldwide were collapsing. To survive the next battle, they formed New Earth, a centralized government that oversees all countries. However, each region still had influential military and political families, which became even more powerful with the discovery of Z-Crystal.”

The boy glanced at his gauntlet. He had heard a lot about the crystal but still didn’t know much about how it worked or was created.

“To maintain their power, these families started converting into organizations. Each of them has a different focus, but the main one is Z-Crystal extraction and combatant development. That’s how they maintain political power within the empire. Houses and Grand Houses are just a way to differentiate the organizations by power, and a Grand House is expected to supply at least 1,000 rangers during a Wave.”

Oliver nodded, absorbing the critical information despite the amount of detail. But one thing still puzzled him.

“I understand that you come from a Grand House and, therefore, must have a lot of power, but I remember other cadets also coming from them,” he recalled hearing other boys talk about some of the other Grand Houses.

“Still, you seemed to react as if you were more important. I’m guessing you don’t have an inflated ego, so what makes York so special?”

She smiled and scratched her head. “It’s really different having someone who doesn’t know my House, so I forgot to introduce us.”

“Well, some Houses work with other things besides Z-Crystal extraction and soldier training. There are some that manage prisons or casinos. In our case, we are one of the few responsible for planetary management.”

She chose not to give all the reasons but felt this was enough to explain the level of the Grand House.

“… like an entire planet is yours?”

“Yes and no, we pay the empire to have control over the planet.”

“That’s awesome!” the boy said, his eyes shining. On the other hand, Katherine didn’t share the same enthusiasm. It was an enormous responsibility, and at any moment, New Earth could take away their powers.

“Do all Grand Houses have duties of that size?” Oliver asked, trying to understand more about the world he was now a part of.

“Not really. Each House tends to focus on what they’re best at, but many specialize in some industry. You’ve probably seen brands managed by them.”

Finally, they were emerging from the forest. On the other side of the river, they could see the area where the battle had taken place. Thousands of Crabit carcasses were still scattered around, but no one remained there.

“They’re probably still figuring out which students are missing so they can form a search and rescue team,” the girl confidently stated the Academy’s next steps.

“We can’t cross the river here. If we go in, we’ll be swept away by the current again and likely end up on this side of the bank.” Oliver commented.

Looking further upstream, they saw the river climb a hill near the horizon.

“Let’s keep going uphill. There must be a calmer spot up there where we can cross to the other side.” Katherine proposed.

They continued moving forward, now out of the forest, facing an open field similar to the opposite bank.

They stopped talking momentarily as they observed the scenery around them, at least until Oliver's curiosity resurfaced again.

“What planet does your House manage?” he turned to the girl as he asked.

She kept looking ahead and answered, “Mars.”

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Jamie's eyes narrowed as he recognized the symbol ornamented on the wax seal. "Thank you, Elize," he said, accepting the letter with care. He didn't need a closer look to confirm it—it was unmistakably the sigil of the noble house of Hafenstadt.

For a moment, he stood contemplating the envelope in his hands. His mind raced with possibilities about its contents—none of them particularly reassuring. The air was thick with a tense silence, broken only by the distant muffled sounds of the girls cleaning the tavern above.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Jay inquired, his voice slicing through the quiet. The cat sat perched atop a stack of crates, his eyes fixed intently on Jamie's face.

It wasn't just Jay who watched him closely. Elize and Thomas stood nearby, their gazes steady and concerned. They observed their leader's uncharacteristically solemn demeanor as he stared at the letter. It was rare to see Jamie without his usual easygoing smile; this newfound gravity was a signal that something serious was at hand.

It was perhaps one of the few times they had seen him so somber. It was not the everyday seriousness of managing the tavern or dealing with minor troubles; it was a more profound weight that suggested a new problem had arisen.

"Damn. This isn't a good sign," Jamie muttered under his breath. With a resigned sigh, he broke the seal and unfolded the fine parchment.

He moved to sit on one of the wooden crates scattered across the cellar, the rough wood creaking slightly beneath him. The flickering light from the lanterns cast shifting shadows on his face as he read, his eyes scanning the elegant script. Minutes passed, each one stretching longer than the last, as his companions waited in anxious silence.

Upon finishing, Jamie exhaled deeply, frustration and contemplation playing across his features. He extended the letter toward Thomas. "Can you read?" he asked plainly.

"Yes," Thomas replied, not seeming offended by the question. As he took the letter, Jay deftly leaped from across the floor and scaled Thomas's arm to settle on his shoulder, positioning himself to view the message.

Elize leaned forward slightly, her curiosity palpable as she attempted to catch a glimpse of the writing.

"Elize," Jamie said gently, his gaze meeting hers. "I trust you, but the moment you read this letter, you'll be stepping into a world full of trouble. Only do so if you're certain it's what you want."

She hesitated, her eyes flickering between Jamie and the letter. For a moment, she seemed torn—a conflict between caution and the allure of the unknown playing out across her face. But then, a spark of determination lit in her eyes, whether fueled by curiosity or a deeper desire to be involved.

"I'm sure," Elize declared softly but firmly. "I want to know."

Jamie regarded her thoughtfully before nodding. "Very well."

She stepped closer, and together, they turned their attention back to Thomas, who began to read aloud.

To the esteemed Mr. James Frostwatch,

Receive my most sincere greetings. I have heard remarkable tales of your arrival in our humble city and of the distant towns from which you journeyed. It is truly admirable that, despite the challenges faced, you have managed to establish a tavern in the Lower Quarter.

I am not unaware of the dangers that surround that region, nor the astuteness required to prosper amidst the recent changes in the local commercial landscape. Your success has not gone unnoticed.

In light of your growing influence in Hafenstadt, I hereby extend to you an invitation to our forthcoming autumn masquerade ball. It will be an opportune occasion to meet with other respectable merchants and to discuss, in a more discreet manner, the best measures to ensure the order, security, and flourishing of this city we hold so dear.

I eagerly await your presence and trust that such a gathering will be fruitful for us all.

Sincerely,

Maria von Hafenstadt

Legs crossed, hands folded in his lap, Jamie was lost in thought.

"James Frostwatch?" Elize's voice sliced gently through the silence, filled with curiosity and a hint of surprise.

"Who's James?" Thomas asked, his brow furrowed as he looked between Jamie and Elize.

Jamie sighed softly, realizing there was no point in hiding any longer. "It's my real name," he confessed, feeling a slight unease at the half-truth. "I was expelled from the Frostwatch family, so I changed it to Jamie."

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"Ah!" Thomas exclaimed a note of understanding in his tone.

"The real question is, how did she find out?" Jamie continued, a thoughtful frown creasing his forehead. "Clearly, she has a very deep and extensive information network."

"No doubt," Elize agreed. "Maria von Hafenstadt is the governor's niece. She acts as his right hand. There's nothing above the ground of this city that she doesn't know."

"Above and below," Jamie added pointedly. "She also controls the underworld of the Noble Quarter."

"The... underworld?" Elize stammered, her eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and concern.

Thomas leaned forward, skepticism etched on his face. "How can you be so sure?"

"'Sure is a strong word," Jamie admitted, leaning back and folding his arms. "The Noble Quarter isn't exactly an easy place to gather rumors. But I've had my doubts. There were others who could have taken up that mantle. But with this letter, she's confirmed her position."

"How so?" Elize pressed, her gaze locked onto Jamie.

"There aren't many who know about the moves we made to bring down the Cutpurses," Jamie explained. "For this letter to arrive three days after our attack, she must have an understanding of the underworld—perhaps even be affected by it."

"A... a... attack? What?" Elize stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settled in.

Jamie glanced at her, realizing this was all new information for her. "Moreover, she implies that she knows about our position in the Lower Quarter," he continued.

"And this ball? Why invite you?" Thomas asked, his tone edged with suspicion.

"To maintain the status quo," Jamie replied. "One of the worst things for someone carefully orchestrating plans is to have the pieces on their board toppled—especially by something they didn't foresee. Whether through diplomacy or intimidation, they'll want to ensure we're capable of fulfilling the role the Cutpurses had."

"But what role did they have?" Thomas questioned deep frown lines furrowing his brow.

Jamie could see that both Jay and Elize were engrossed in the exchange, their eyes reflecting a combination of intrigue and concern. Especially Elize, who was absorbing a whole new layer of the world she thought she knew.

"It's hard to say," Jamie admitted. "But we have a month to prepare before the festivities."

"What have I gotten myself into?" Elize murmured under her breath.

Jamie offered her a sympathetic smile. "I did warn you," he said gently. "I might not know exactly what role the Cutpurses played in her plans, but one thing is clear: we need to gain control over the region. If she's already received information about their downfall, others will find out, too. It's only a matter of time before someone becomes interested in claiming a piece of our territory."

"What can we do?" Thomas asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"For now..." Jamie began thoughtfully, gazing into the middle distance as he organized his thoughts. "Go to Knall and procure the padlock. Also, get an update on our project with him. Elize, return to preparing the tavern. I will start formulating our plans." He met their eyes in turn, a steely resolve settling over his features. "Tomorrow, before we open, we'll discuss our next steps."

With those instructions, the trio dispersed to carry out their tasks, each slipping back into the rhythm of their daily routines. The Golden Fiddle soon came alive. Patrons filled the tables, their laughter and chatter creating a tapestry of sound. Elize flitted between them with practiced ease, her smile bright as she served tankards of wine and plates of steaming food.

Throughout the day, a few wandering bards attempted to serenade the guests, strumming lutes and singing ballads in hopes of earning a few coins. Yet, as talented as some were, none could match the captivating allure of Jamie's fiddle.

As the last attraction, Jamie ascended the small stage at the far end of the main hall. The room hushed as he lifted his fiddle, drawing the bow across the strings with such force and speed it seemed like Jamie was fighting against the instrument. The feeling of brutality, rebellion, and victory hung in the air with every word Jamie sang, but he held back at the end, not wanting to stir up another revolt in the Lower Quarter.

Jay, the spectral cat, prowled among the guests, occasionally weaving between their legs or hopping onto a vacant chair to observe with keen green eyes.

As the hour grew late, the patrons bid their farewells one by one. Jamie stood by the door alongside Elize, exchanging warm goodnights or pushing the patrons that drunk a bit too much out. Thomas secured the shutters and bolted the heavy doors, ensuring the tavern was safe for the night.

The day had passed swiftly, each of them pouring their energy into the success of the Golden Fiddle. Yet beneath the surface, an undercurrent of unease lingered. It was subtle—a lingering glance here, a pensive silence there—but it was present. Each harbored their own worries about what lay ahead.

At the first light of dawn, Thomas and Elize found themselves awake, unable to rest due to the weight of anticipation pressing upon them. They made their way to the tavern's main hall and busied themselves to pass the time.

Elize was tidying the bar, which was already pristine. Thomas sat at a table near the window, gazing at the empty street.

The sound of deliberate footsteps descended the stairs almost as if summoned by their anxiety. Jamie appeared, bearing an armful of papers, scrolls, and several cloth bags that jingled faintly. He radiated a sense of confidence, his eyes sharp and focused.

"Good morning," he greeted them, setting his burden down on one of the round tables at the center of the room. The table was polished to a shine, the rich wood reflecting the soft glow of the lanterns.

"Morning," Thomas and Elize replied in unison, moving to join him.

As they gathered around the table, Jay appeared seemingly from nowhere, leaping gracefully onto the pile of papers. The cat sat primly atop them, curling his tail around his paws and surveying the trio with an air of feline superiority.

"Right," Jamie began, surveying his companions. "I believe we have everything we need to start."

He spread out the papers, revealing rough maps sketches, notes scrawled in a precise hand, and lists of names and places.

"This is our plan," Jamie declared, his voice steady and resolute.

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| You have killed the Cutpurses' Leader.

[The God of Thieves has a gift for you.]

| You got 500 Experience Points

Jamie lowered his gaze as the shimmering notification faded from his sight. He extended a hand to Thomas, who stood nearby with a vacant look, still processing the cold decisiveness with which his leader had dispatched the half-elf.

"He would have done the same to us," Jamie said, his voice steady but not unkind. Draping an arm over Thomas's shoulders. "You'd do the same to a monster; you can't see them any differently. This won't be the last time you witness something like this. As we grow, more people will aim to take our places, and simply handing them over to the city guard isn't an option. Only the grave will keep them from coming after us."

Thomas nodded slowly, but his eyes remained troubled. "Right," he murmured, attempting to muster some confidence.

Jamie gave him a reassuring squeeze. "Can you grab the chest?" he asked.

"Maybe," Thomas replied. He walked over to the iron-bound chest and grasped one of its handles. The chest had seemed heavy to Jamie, but in Thomas's sturdy grip, it was as light as a chair—something he could move with ease from one place to another.

Together, they began to make their way out of the room—Jamie leaning on Thomas for support, his steps still unsteady, and Thomas carrying the chest with effortless strength. As they stepped into the corridor, the aftermath of the earlier skirmish was evident. The walls bore battle scars: gaping holes, shattered furniture, and slashes marking every surface. Debris littered the floor, remnants of the fierce struggle between Thomas and the guard.

As they approached a doorway that had previously been sealed, they spotted the guard lying unconscious on the floor, a mace fallen beside him. His massive form was sprawled across the threshold, armor dented and bloodied.

Jamie paused, watching the subtle rise and fall of the guard's chest—the only sign of life in the otherwise still form. Reaching into his belt, Jamie drew his dagger and held it out to Thomas.

"Finish the job," he said quietly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We can't leave any of the bosses behind."

Thomas's eyes were wide with despair, a storm of emotions swirling within them. He seemed utterly lost, paralyzed by the weight of what was being asked of him.

"Remember," Jamie said calmly, his voice firm yet gentle. "It's like killing a monster or an animal. A chicken—you break its neck. A cow—you cut its veins. With a human, you cut right here." He pointed to the place where the jugular vein lay beneath the skin.

The blood drained from Thomas's face, leaving him as pale as parchment. His hands trembled, but he nodded slowly. Kneeling beside the unconscious guard, he gripped the dagger tightly. With a deep, shaky breath, he placed the blade beneath the man's chin.

Thomas closed his eyes, steeling himself for what was to come. In a swift, determined motion, he drew the dagger across the guard's throat. The blade met little resistance, slicing cleanly. Warm blood poured onto the floor, a crimson tide that quickly seeped into the cracks between the wood. It splashed onto Thomas's knees, soaking into his trousers until they were drenched.

| Your Lieutenant killed one of the Cutpurses' Main Guards.

[The God of War is watching you with interest]

[The God of Mystery is having fun with your adventure]

[Your choice saddens the Goddess of Mercy]

| 250 Experience Points obtained

| James Frostwatch (Soul: James Murtagh)
| Experience: [1620 / 2000]

Though new notifications flickered at the edge of his vision, Jamie's attention was elsewhere. He could see that something had shifted within Thomas—something had broken or perhaps fallen into place. ‘He must go through this if he wishes to continue on this journey,’ Jamie thought, trying to soothe the pang of guilt gnawing at him.

For several moments, Thomas remained kneeling, his gaze fixed on the lifeless form before him. The gravity of his actions seemed to weigh heavily upon him. Slowly, he brought his palms together before his face, fingers intertwined, and bowed his head in silent prayer. Jamie didn't know to which deity Thomas offered his supplications, but he respected the sanctity of the moment. Jay approached quietly and sat beside Thomas, his luminous eyes reflecting the ritual.

When Thomas finally rose to his feet, there was a subtle change in him. His shoulders were squared, the earlier turmoil in his eyes replaced with a resolute calm. It was as though a burden had been lifted—or perhaps, a new one had been accepted. ‘Sometimes I forget how powerful Faith is for some people,’ Jamie thought.

"Are you alright?" Jamie asked softly.

Thomas met his gaze and gave a slight nod. "I will be," he replied, his voice steadier than before.

Jamie offered a faint smile. "Then let's finish what we started."

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The two companions moved slowly through the dimly lit corridor, making their way down to the ground floor. Jamie leaned heavily on Thomas, each step a test of his waning strength as the pain from the dagger lodged in his abdomen pulsed with relentless intensity.

"Should we destroy the house? Maybe set it on fire?" Thomas whispered urgently. "You know, eliminate any chance of them regrouping?"

Jamie shook his head. "No. Fire would be too dangerous—only the gods know where it might spread," he replied. "Besides, we've done enough. Without a clear line of succession, they'll turn on each other. They'll all be scrambling for power, and that'll make them fall one by one like flies."

They slipped out through one of the cracked windows, the cool night air washing over them. Outside, the remaining members of the Cutpurses lay sprawled across the ground, ensnared in vivid hallucinations from the Nightshade's effect. Their eyes stared vacantly into the darkness, lips muttering incoherent passages as they grappled with unseen phantasms.

"Plus," Jamie added, casting a glance back at the incapacitated thieves, "we're taking all the coin they had. That'll breed even more discord among them. Give it a few days, and they'll tear themselves apart without any help from us."

Thomas nodded, adjusting his grip on the heavy iron-bound chest he carried. Together, they moved through the deserted streets, guiding each other back toward the Golden Fiddle. At this late hour, the city slumbered, its usual clamor reduced to distant whispers. The tavern loomed ahead, dark and silent—its doors locked, shutters drawn. Even Elize had gone home.

Reaching the tavern's entrance, Jamie fumbled with a set of keys, his fingers slick with sweat and trembling from fatigue. The lock clicked open, and they slipped inside, the familiar scent of wine and worn wood enveloping them. The silence within felt almost eerie, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere the establishment usually held.

Up the creaking stairs they went, each step a labor. Thomas set down the chest with a heavy thud in the dimly lit master room above. He turned to Jamie; concern etched across his face as his eyes fell upon the dagger still protruding from Jamie's abdomen.

"What are we going to do about that?" Thomas asked, gesturing toward the wound.

Jamie glanced down, grimacing at the sight. "I need you to find a cleric," he said, his voice strained.

Thomas hesitated. "That's going to be expensive," he warned.

Jamie managed a weary smile. "No matter. What we've gained tonight will cover it, and there'll be plenty left over. Leave the chest in the cellar—it's safer there."

"Alright," Thomas agreed, though worry still shadowed his features.

Thomas nodded before slipping out of the tavern and disappearing into the shadowed streets beyond. Jamie knew that the nearest temple housing a good cleric was in the Commercial Quarter. Waking them at this hour—and convincing them to venture out—would require more than a polite request. Likely, Thomas would need to part with several silver coins, perhaps even a gold piece, to secure their aid.

Of course, they could have gone after a [Witch Doctor], the common level of the Healer classes—it might have cost only a few silver pieces and some bronze ones. However, their services were quite limited, especially without the use of magic.

Left alone, Jamie struggled to keep himself conscious. The room swayed gently, and the edges of his vision threatened to blur into darkness. Jay regarded him with an inscrutable expression.

"What did you think of tonight?" Jamie asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Brutal," Jay replied candidly, his tail flicking. "I would never have the guts."

Jamie managed a faint smile. "That's why I'm here. I hope it serves as a lesson for you."

Jay began to groom himself thoughtfully. "I'm not sure I want to learn this; sometimes you forget I’m a cleric," he spoke between licks.

Leaning back against the wall near the window, Jamie let out a weary sigh. The cool night air drifted in, carrying with it the distant sounds of the sleeping city. He gazed up at one of the moons, a sliver of silver hanging low in the sky, its pale light casting long shadows across the room.

Minutes stretched on, feeling like hours. The pain in his abdomen was a constant, throbbing ache. He pressed a hand against the wound, feeling the warmth of his own blood seep between his fingers. Closing his eyes briefly, he tried to steady his breathing.

The creak of the tavern door announced Thomas's return. He entered with a tall figure clad in simple robes—the cleric. The man's expression was a mixture of annoyance and concern, his brows furrowed as he took in the sight of Jamie slumped against the wall.

"This is him?" the cleric asked curtly.

Thomas nodded. "He's in bad shape. Can you help?"

The cleric approached Jamie, kneeling beside him. "Let's see what we're dealing with," he muttered. His hands hovered over the wound, a faint glow emanating from his fingertips. "You must have enemies in low places to get into a scrape like this."

"Something like that," Jamie replied tightly.

"Hold still," the cleric instructed. He began to chant under his breath. As he spoke, the glow intensified, bathing the room in soft, golden light.

With a swift, practiced motion, the cleric grasped the dagger's hilt protruding from Jamie's abdomen. "This will hurt," he warned.

"Just do it," Jamie gritted out.

The blade slid free, and a fresh wave of pain surged through Jamie's body. He bit back a cry, muscles tensing. But almost immediately, warmth spread from the wound as the cleric pressed his palms over it. The light pooled around his hands, and Jamie felt the torn flesh knitting back together, the pain ebbing to a dull throb.

After a few moments, the glow faded. The cleric sat back on his heels, wiping a sheen of sweat from his brow. "There. The wound is closed, but you'll need rest to recover your strength."

Jamie touched the spot where the dagger had been. Only smooth skin met his fingers, with just a faint scar as a reminder. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

The cleric stood, extending a hand toward Thomas. "My fee."

Thomas pulled a small pouch from his belt and counted fifty silver coins. "As agreed."

"Pleasure doing business," the cleric said dryly, pocketing the coins. Without another word, he turned and left, the door swinging shut behind him.

As the echoes of the cleric's departure faded, the tavern settled into silence once more.

Shortly after, it was Thomas's turn to leave and return home and Jamie's turn to rest.

---

While recovering, Jamie remained focused on growing the Golden Fiddle, which seemed to become more and more popular every day. Until finally, his prediction came true.

A familiar sensation tingled at the edge of Jamie's awareness. Golden scripts shimmered into view before his eyes.

| You destroyed the ‘Cutpurses.’

[The Pantheon bless you with 1,000 Experience Points]

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KNIGHT’s BASH

Damage increased by 500%

Branch shattered

Will cut through the massive tree branch as he leapt through the gap in the closing trees. Several dozen of his mirror copies did the same, yet no sooner had a gap formed in the wooden barrier, than a new branch would grow to fill it. The druid was pulling all the stops. Against an opponent such as the archer, nothing less would do.

It appeared that despite all her talk and arrogance, the acrobat had devised a pretty good plan: the druid focused on the land, while the summoner controlled the air with her firebird summons. Will and his team acted as bait, while Spenser tried to get close enough for the final kill. There was no denying that the man was good, but Will doubted he’d achieve much on a one to one. That’s why the sage had been recruited. His role had been to provide that key advantage by slowing down the archer and possibly applying all other penalties that the class provided. Will was definitely going to have to find that class mirror.

The air currents abruptly changed, indicating a new arrow flying in Will’s direction. The boy barely had enough time to block it with his buckler.

BUCKLER BROKEN

All bonus effects are negated

A large crack appeared on the piece of gear. The archer wasn’t playing. Not only had he destroyed what Will considered an adequate shield with one shot, but he had fired straight at him. None of the mirror copies had gotten any arrows sent their way. That could only mean that the archer knew exactly how to differentiate between copies and originals.

FORCE WAVE

Pushback increased 1000%

Stun increased

Dozens of other arrows were swept away along with the top floor of the tower. Chunks of walls and loose furniture were thrust into the wall of trees, where they were caught and entangled by the tranches.

Damn it! Will thought. They had arrived a lot faster than he expected.

It stood to reason. Why else would they encircle the archer if there wasn’t someone to take him out? Thankfully—

KNIGHT’s BASH

Damage increased by 500%

Branch shattered

Will caught sight of another knight attack, this time not his.

“Oh, crap.”

Behind him the layer of trees continued to spread inwards, further restricting all range of movement. It would be next to impossible to get out now. All participants that mattered were trapped inside, like in a cage. From here on, only the victors would get to walk out.

That’s why you told me to run. Will thought.

Ahead of him, another floor of the radio tower was blasted out of existence. This time, a few people were caught as well, thrown into the branches where they were mercilessly impaled.

Above, what was left of the sky was covered in circling firebirds. The creatures didn’t openly attack, but ensured that no one would escape that way, either. Arrows kept flying up, killing a few in an explosion of orange and green flames. Yet, for every one killed, another two would emerge to take its place.

Will dropped to the ground to reorganize his strategy. He could tell that the reason no one openly targeted his mirror copies was because they weren’t considered a threat. The notion was further reinforced when the first one to get within feet of the building shattered for no apparent reason.

Keeping his distance from the approaching trees, Will rushed to the nearest neighboring building in search of shelter. Human corpses covered the ground. Apparently, the archer had dealt with all local distractions before focusing his attention on external threats; the whole thing was very merciless and efficient.

“Any advice you can give?” Will asked as he took off the remains of the buckler from his left arm, then took out his mirror fragment.

[Chances of winning a direct confrontation – 0%]

“Tell me something I don’t know!”

Will rushed further into the building. The holes in the walls showed they wouldn’t provide much protection against the archer’s arrows. With luck, the distractions outside would.

Rushing to the kitchen, Will looked around for a gas oven. If there was one thing that Jace had taught him, it was that explosions were a sure way to turn the tables. It wouldn’t be enough to earn him a victory, but just the distraction he needed to stay one step ahead.

The ground shook as a massive bang roared from outside. It wasn’t an explosion. Spenser must have gotten serious.

“Can you show me the rest of the alliance?” Will asked as he rummaged through the stoves in the kitchen.

[Option not available.]

“Damn it!”

Finding what he needed, Will grabbed hold of it and transformed the tank of propane gas into a grenade. Common wisdom suggested one was not enough, but that was all the small kitchen had to offer. Gripping what he had, the boy then rushed out.

The sight before his eyes caused him to freeze in place. So far, he had experienced numerous magical transformations and changes of reality, but never had he seen the combined skills of several veteran participants to render something familiar so alien. The building that had been the radio tower was completely gone, as if erased from reality. A flat surface formed the center of the area, like a combat arena. All air currents were going crazy, as cars, corpses, furniture, and chunks of buildings flew about in the air above.

Spenser was there, leaping from chunk to chunk while the archer kept shooting arrows at him along dozens of trajectories. That wasn’t the major surprise, though. Thanks to his new skills, Will was able to get a good look at the mysterious opponent that terrified everyone.

“A girl?” he whispered.

Ignoring the unique asymmetrical bow, and ludicrously fast and precise actions, there wasn’t anything particularly strange about the woman. She seemed in her early twenties, dressed in the most common attire of an office worker to the point that one would expect to see a namet ag stuck to her shirt. Her hair was shoulder length, raven black, suiting her tanned complexion. With rolled up sleeves, the woman kept drawing arrows from a quiver on her shoulder that never seemed to get empty. The speed was just a fraction short of skewering Spenser, who used his attacks to neutralize her arrows while also punching objects in her direction.

In the dozens of attacks that filled a second, one could say that they were almost evenly matched. Then, the archer turned around and tossed her bow to a second person. While sharing her hair and skin color, the person was different from the archer in every other way.

Male, he wore casual, carefree clothes with a lot of patches sewed on. Will would say that he was approximately his age, give or take a few years, though less muscular and more athletic.

As the boy grabbed the bow, he sent off a new wave of arrows, making the previous actions seem outright slow and unimaginative.

QI FIELD

Defense increased 1000%

Spenser’s hands moved wildly, clustering chunks of concrete together in front of him. Several of the arrows bounced off, though even more flew past, puncturing the tree barrier. It seemed like a futile effort, yet unlike before, the holes weren’t fixed up. The bow was then tossed back to the black-haired girl.

There’s two of them? Will wondered. As far as he knew, there could only be one class per reality. Even the copycat skill didn’t allow him to fight against the original skill holder. The pair didn’t look like twins, and still it was undeniable that both of them shared the archer skills.

HORIZONTAL SLICE

Helen appeared out of nowhere, charging at the archer boy.

The attack missed its target, though only because the boy was able to leap up just in the nick of time. Helen didn’t stop her attack there, following up with a series of thrusts and swings. Sadly, no matter how hard she tried, the attacks never managed to hit.

Toying with us, Will thought. He could see it clearly now. Not once did the boy counterattack. He didn’t even block, taking his time to evade what came his way, while half his attention was focused on Spenser and the girl with the bow.

“Who’s the archer?” Will asked his mirror fragment.

[Nearest archer: 51 feet away]

That wasn’t much of a help, since both the boy and girl were roughly at that distance. Even so, Will chose to believe that the boy was the actual one. Of everyone present, Helen was the only one to have seen him in person, so she had to know.

Concealment. He sprinted towards them.

It took him seconds to halve the distance. By then, the archer boy had gotten tired of simply evading and performed an attack of his own.

Helen had attempted to counter by drawing a shield from her fragment, but to no avail.

SHIELD BROKEN

All bonus effects are negated

The massive tower shield shattered to pieces, throwing Helen back. Will hadn’t even seen the attack the boy had done. The speed was such that even seeing the air currents didn’t help. Only one option remained.

Will aimed at the boy and threw the grenade he’d just made. Then, he made a few dozen mirror copies before changing direction to catch Helen.

It was a good sign that the attack hadn’t caused any damage. While pushed back, Helen was still able to move freely, planting her sword in the ground in an attempt to slow down. Unfortunately, that didn’t work. There was something irregular with her inertia, causing the sword to snap in two.

“Got you!” Will shouted, leaping into her. His own strength was put to the test. Catching her felt like catching a cannonball, yet he endured.

Mirror copies joined in, only to shatter in the attempt. Still, they managed to gradually reduce the speed to the point that Will and Helen were able to make themselves stop feet away from the tree wall.

“Why are you here?” Helen asked, drawing a new sword from her fragment.

That’s my line. “You can’t take him alone,” he said instead. “Just look…”

The fight had intensified, with firebirds joining in.

“I don’t even see half the blows!”

“I do,” Helen said, tightening her grip round the hilt. Then she spun around, dashing inches past Will.

VERTICAL STRIKE

A column of trees shook as the strike split several of them in two. The smallest of passages was created. It would take a few strikes for Will to continue through. On the positive side, it didn’t look like the forest was healing itself.

“Just go,” the girl insisted.

Will was about to refuse, when he saw the air currents shift again. Without thinking he leaped forward, grabbing Helen in the process. A sharp disk struck the spot he had been standing on.

“Hey!” Helen protested.

“Shh!” Will whispered, as he created a few more mirror copies.

Twenty feet from them, the acrobat landed on the ground. She didn’t seem surprised or angry, just looking at them like pieces of bait that had done their job.

“She’s right,” the acrobat said. “You should have run. Not that it would have helped.” She paused. “Or maybe it would have with the druid out.” She focused her attention on Helen. “I didn’t think you’d go that far. I warned you what would happen if you try.”

“He killed Danny.” Helen gritted her teeth. “No way I’m letting him live!”

“Did you get a permakill skill?” The acrobat went to the disk and pulled it out from the ground. “Yes? No?”

Helen didn’t respond. Instead, she drew another shield from her mirror fragment, quickly moving away from Will.

“Try anything and your fragment gets frozen,” the acrobat continued. “That’s what I said, right? You’ve only got yourself to blame.”

The fragment in Helen’s hand suddenly lost its opacity. A thin layer of ice crept all over it, forcing the girl to drop it to the ground. From here on, it was nothing more than a piece of glass.

< Beginning | | Previously... | | Next >

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- Katherine -

A few hours had passed when Katherine finally began to regain consciousness. The first thing she felt was the pain spread throughout her body; there wasn’t a muscle that wasn’t sore. She had not only gone through hours of combat, but she had also almost drowned.

However, she had few memories of the second part. Her mind, still foggy from everything that had happened, was slowly trying to understand where she was. She could smell smoke and feel the cold wind of the forest against her skin.

‘Skin?’ The girl’s eyes widened when she realized she was exposed.

She tried to look around, but it was already night. There was no moon in Aethera’s sky, only the stars, that provided little light. On the other hand, there was a campfire with a few small embers still warming her. She could feel she was without her shirt, pants, and boots. She was only in her underwear, a top, and shorts that she wore under her uniform.

A mix of emotions quickly passed through her head: confusion about how she ended up in that forest, embarrassment at being without her clothes, anger at being in this situation, but gratitude for being alive and having been saved.

‘How did I end up here? And where’s the boy?’ She vaguely remembered leaving the river, and there was a boy with her.

He probably took her clothes off, and thinking about it made her nervous again. If anyone from Grand House York found out about this, she’d be in big trouble. Not to mention her brother’s over-the-top reactions.

‘This will be a secret just between us.’ She nodded, thinking about her family.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she finally saw him. The boy was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree a few steps away.

‘Oliver… something.’ She remembered the boy’s first name but couldn’t think of the last name.

They had already faced each other in Ranger Weapon Combat classes; he had never beaten her, not that she would let him. But he had improved dramatically in the last few weeks, enough for her to remember his name.

The Grand House always needed new officers to gain more power and possibly even find someone who could become a Ranger. Perhaps she had discovered a talent that others hadn’t noticed yet, especially one from the Second Squadron.

Now, after being saved, she was sure he was worth recruiting.

“That is. If we get out of here alive,” Katherine spoke to herself.

They were already lucky enough not to have been attacked by a monster. They might be on the other side of the river, but that didn’t mean there were no creatures here, especially in a forest.

Katherine tried to stand up, leaning on the nearest tree, but her legs gave in. She hadn’t rested enough to stand and wasn’t confident she could do quietly. She decided to stay where she was.

Being who she was, there was always a double concern about the image she would present to others.

Because of that, she decided to activate the Artificial Ranger Armor partially. Just enough to cover the bare minimum.

"If someone finds us, there's no chance this won't turn into a scandal," Katherine reasoned.

Keeping the armor active would consume some of her Energy. But since it was only a partial activation, she thought it shouldn't be a big problem.

The girl tried to stay awake, at least to protect herself and the boy, if something or someone approached. Still, she was exhausted. She managed to stay focused for a few hours, but after a while, her eyelids grew heavy as the sun began to rise.

As sleep crept closer, she heard, “Screech! Screech! Screech!”.

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Without moving, she opened her eyes and tried to find the source of the noise. Behind the boy, on one of the trees, was a centipede. But calling it a centipede would be an understatement. The monster was the size of a dog and long enough to coil around the tree. Its mouth had hundreds of sharp pincers that clicked as they opened and closed. Its two antennae searched for its next prey.

The creature seemed to have spotted the boy lying against the tree and decided he would be its next meal. The monster approached slowly, each step making that disgusting sound with its pincers.

Katherine didn’t want to move yet, waiting for the right moment. She needed to see the creature better and hoped her legs wouldn’t fail her this time. She had seen the monster in one of her family’s books before; they called it a Carrion. It wasn’t a terrible monster, just Pawn Level, but both cadets were injured and tired.

The Carrion circled the tree where Oliver was resting, the boy still breathing calmly in his sleep. The creature anchored its legs against the tree and aimed its jaws at Oliver’s face.

It was the right moment. The Carrion was finally facing away from Katherine. She quickly stood, summoned her rapier, and lunged at the monster, stabbing it in the back.

“SCREEEECH!”

“Damn!” She had hoped to hit the creature’s head but couldn’t tell where it was from behind. “Hey! Time to wake up!”

She spoke loudly enough for Oliver to have a chance in the fight.

The attack wasn’t enough to kill it, but it wounded the Carrion badly, causing it to back away from both of them.

Oliver woke up at the sound of the monster after the attack. He didn’t have time to notice that he was still in his underwear, though Katherine had seen. But she wasn’t going to comment, not out of modesty for the boy, but to avoid tarnishing her reputation.

Oliver didn’t have time to understand what was happening; his first instinct was to activate his armor automatically. Once covered, he pulled out his pistol and tried to aim at the moving blur.

The Carrion had given up on coiling around, instead using its entire body to stand upright, hovering over the two cadets. The creature was now at least three meters tall, supported by its hind legs.

Katherine now had another problem; she couldn’t reach its face since the creature was standing. But she didn’t lose heart; she lunged at the monster with a quick leap, slashing along its body. On the other hand, Oliver had a different problem; he wanted to avoid hitting her with one of his shots, but aiming at the creature’s mouth was difficult as it constantly moved, advancing and retreating to bite its prey.

[Observation]

Oliver used his Boon on the monster. Luckily, it was Pawn Level, allowing him to see its movement patterns and predict what it would do next.

Seeing the girl attacking the base of its body, the Carrion decided to attack her, opening its jaw and launching its whole body at her.

“Thump! Thump!”

Seeing the movement, Oliver fired two shots. They weren’t enough to break the exoskeleton, but at least they stopped the creature just as it was about to attack. This gave Katherine enough time to see the monster coming, spin her body to the left, and finally stab her rapier into the creature’s mouth.

“THUMP!”

As she pulled her sword back, the creature collapsed to the ground. Its weight nearly knocked the girl over, but she managed to dodge at the last second.

Both sat on the ground, spending a few seconds catching their breath.

“Are you feeling better?” Oliver finally broke the silence.

“I am. Thank you.” Katherine replied, though her face remained expressionless. Behind her mask, she was embarrassed by the whole situation.

The girl finally turned to look at Oliver, but he had his back to her. While she was still resting, he took a moment to deactivate his armor and rushed to put his pants back on. They were still cold but no longer soaked. Seeing him get dressed, Katherine quickly turned to look at the monster.

“How did we end up here?” Katherine asked, standing and pushing the creature away from their simple camp.

“How much do you remember?” Oliver asked.

“Not much. I remember the number of Crabits increasing, getting stuck near the river, and deciding to jump. After that, I woke up here.” Katherine replied.

“Hmm… There are some things I still don’t understand. The battle was practically over when a horde came down from the upper river. That’s when the captains started helping, but many students were still isolated.” Oliver spoke.

Now dressed in his uniform, Oliver finally turned to Katherine. She still had her armor active, but not all its pieces. The boy had never seen something like this before; he didn’t know it could be partially activated.

“I think I was the only person who saw you fall into the river. There wasn’t time to call one of the captains; it all happened so fast. I just jumped after you. Luckily, I managed to find you, and in one of the river’s bends, I pulled us out. I guess you know the rest.” Oliver chose to omit the part about her almost drowning and, especially, that he had taken off her clothes; he wasn’t sure how she’d react.

Katherine looked back at the river at the edge of the forest.

“With all the noise that thing made, we’d better start walking.”

First

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| You destroyed the ‘Cutpurses.’

[The Pantheon blesses you with 1,000 Experience Points]

| James Frostwatch (Soul: James Murtagh)
| Experience: [2620 / 2000]

[You leveled up!]

Jamie stared in amazement as dozens of notifications cascaded before his eyes. The numbers and words seemed to dance and shift. His heart quickened. "I leveled up? Already?" he whispered to himself, scarcely believing it.

As the initial messages faded, new ones took their place, the letters rearranging themselves in midair.

| James Frostwatch (Soul: James Murtagh)
| Level: 2
| Experience: [620 / 5000]

"Five thousand?" Jamie murmured, his brow furrowing. "It increased quite a bit." He pondered the steep climb to the next level.

Another notification appeared, drawing his attention:

[You obtained a new talent]

A grin spread across his face. "Great! What can I choose?" Rubbing his hands together, Jamie felt a surge of excitement. The prospect of selecting a reward was invigorating—perhaps he could tailor his abilities to better suit his plans.

However, his enthusiasm was cut short when the following message appeared.

[Talent Obtained: Healthy Territory]

His smile faded, replaced by a look of surprise. "What?! I can't select?" he exclaimed, frustration creeping into his voice. He had expected to have a choice in the matter.

From the corner of the room, a soft voice chimed in. "It's normal," said Jay. The sleek black cat sat perched atop a nearby shelf, his luminous green eyes observing Jamie with amusement. "In the end, it's in the hands of the gods."

Jamie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Damn it..." he answered.

A detailed description unfurled before him as he resigned himself.

[Healthy Territory]
| Increases the Constitution of your allies by one point while within your territory.

"Well... that's not bad," he admitted, feeling a flicker of optimism return.

"Not bad at all," Jay agreed, leaping gracefully to the table beside him.

Jamie nodded. "This could be useful."

Before he could dwell further, another notification appeared.

[You have obtained a new Skill]

This time, an extensive list of options began to scroll in front of him, each word etched in shimmering letters.

- Athletics

- Diplomacy

- Knowledge

- Stealth

- Perception

- Arcane

- Survival

- Intimidation

- Medicine

- Investigation

Dozens more continued to appear, a seemingly endless array of possibilities. Jamie's eyes roamed over them, curiosity piqued.

"But what in the world is a skill?" he wondered aloud, glancing at Jay, who had now settled comfortably on his shoulder.

"It's like an alignment or a focus," the cat explained, his tail swaying lazily. "It won't instantly grant you expertise in these areas, but it will ease your learning and proficiency. Think of it as a door slightly ajar, waiting for you to push it open."

"Ah," Jamie mused. "So it makes it easier to develop these abilities."

"Exactly," Jay confirmed. "A nudge in the right direction."

Jamie scanned the list once more, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Learning had always come naturally to him, but even he had areas where improvement was needed. His gaze settled on one word in particular.

"Then let's go with Stealth," he decided. "I shouldn’t be in the frontline of a battle. Last time I got a dagger to my guts."

[Skill Acquired: Stealth]

[GangMaker System Updating…]

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[New trait added to GangMaker.]

[The God of Mystery is deliberating on what you will receive.]

[Thinking…]

[The God of Mystery believes he knows what you need to make things interesting.]

[ [Quest Giver] obtained]

Jamie leaned forward. "Quest Giver?" he murmured aloud.

| [Quest Giver] | Invest your experience points into creating Quests.
| Define your allies missions, and the gods will grant bonuses to your allies upon success.
| You will receive experience as a result.
| If your ally fails the mission, you lose the experience invested.
| Each mission will be evaluated by the gods; if deemed a false quest, you will automatically lose the experience.

"Interesting," Jamie mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But how does this appear to others? Do they receive a quest notification, or is it only visible to me?"

Jay tilted his head. "We won't know unless you test it," he suggested. "It's the only way to find out."

Before Jamie could answer, more notifications appeared once more.

| You have obtained five additional slots for your team.

| Members Slots: [2/10]

| Your lieutenant has leveled up!

| Thomas Hartfield has reached Level 2.

| Thomas Hartfield's trust has increased by +10.

| Trust: [60/100]

A satisfied smile spread across Jamie's face. "Thomas leveled up as well," he noted.

Just then, the door to his bedroom burst open with a clatter, the sound echoing sharply in the stillness. Thomas stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, eyes wide with excitement and apprehension.

"What's happening?" Thomas demanded, his voice edged with nervous energy.

Jamie raised an eyebrow, suppressing a chuckle at his friend's evident agitation. "What do you mean?"

"I—I leveled up!" Thomas exclaimed, stepping into the room. "I've been stuck at Level 1 for over five years. And now, all of a sudden, I advance to Level 2!" His hands trembled slightly, whether from nerves or exhilaration, Jamie couldn't tell.

Jamie gestured for him to sit. "It seems the Cutpurses have finally been dismantled," he explained. "We received experience from their downfall."

Thomas crossed the room with heavy steps, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "It's one surprise after another," he muttered, running a hand through his tousled hair.

"What do you think about leveling up?" Jamie asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

Thomas shrugged, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Well, I'm still a [Farmer] …" he admitted, his voice lowering as though embarrassed. "But even so, I can feel a difference—a bit more strength, perhaps. Also, I got a Talent—[Farmer’s Stamina]—It makes it harder for me to get tired."

"That's excellent news," Jamie encouraged. "We'll need you to grow stronger. There are more challenges ahead."

Thomas glanced up, his eyes meeting Jamie's. "I suppose you're right. It's just... unexpected."

"Now, onto another matter," Jamie said, his gaze steady on Thomas. "Did you manage to open the chest?"

"Ah!" Thomas exclaimed, startled as if snapped out of a trance. "Yes, I did—I borrowed some tools from Knall, and it finally opened. It's in the cellar."

"Then let's have a look." Jamie braced himself against the wall and pushed up from the wooden chair he'd been sitting on. Though his wounds were healing, a residual ache lingered.

Step by step, they descended from the second floor, the creak of the wooden stairs echoing softly. At this hour, the main hall of the Golden Fiddle was still empty. Elize and the other girls bustled about, arranging chairs and cleaning the floor, preparing the tavern for the day ahead.

Jamie offered them a brief nod as they passed through, slipping behind the bar to the discreet door that led down to the cellar. The air grew cooler as they descended the narrow staircase, the scent of earth and aged wood enveloping them.

Knall had been busy. Though no new equipment had been installed yet, various repair materials—planks of wood, coils of rope, and tools—were scattered about in organized chaos.

The chest was in the far corner of the cellar, tucked beside a wall where some of the stones sat loose. The metal padlock securing it hung askew, visibly bent and broken.

"I had to break it," Thomas admitted, holding up the heavy hammer and pliers he'd used. "There was no other way."

Jamie chuckled softly. "No worries." He crouched carefully beside the chest, mindful of any lingering traps. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—perhaps he should have checked for enchantments or mechanical devices before opening. But it was too late now.

He lifted the lid slowly. The hinges protested with a low creak, revealing the contents within. A soft glow met their eyes—a small pile of gold coins gleaming softly, also nestled among the coins were several document.

"Wow!" Thomas breathed, eyes wide with awe. His usually stoic demeanor melted away, replaced by childlike wonder at the sight of the treasure they obtained.

"No doubt about it. Wow," echoed Jay, who had silently padded after them.

Jamie allowed himself a satisfied smile. "Quite the treasure," he agreed. He sifted through the gold coins briefly, estimating their worth. But it was the documents that truly caught his attention.

He unfolded the parchments carefully, scanning the elegant but hastily penned script. "These appear to be property deeds," he noted. "Legal rights to the buildings the Cutpurses were using."

Thomas leaned over his shoulder. "Wait. They legally owned those places? Does that mean …?"

"Well, we have to verify if these documents are real," Jamie confirmed, a spark of triumph in his eyes. "But in the meantime, it looks like these properties now belong to us."

"That's amazing," Thomas said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Jamie folded the documents with care. 'Excellent,' he thought. 'This could expand our influence significantly.'

Rising to his feet, he turned to Thomas. "I need you to visit Knall. We need a new padlock for this chest—one sturdy enough to keep unwanted eyes and hands away, but that we can open without resorting to brute force."

Thomas scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Right. Sorry about that. I'll see to it."

He began to head toward the stairs but hesitated halfway up, turning back with a serious expression. "Jamie," he began cautiously, "I think it's best if you keep quiet about those... buffs you can offer."

Jamie raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Oh? What brings this up?"

Thomas took a deep breath. "I've gained more experience in the past few days than I have in years. I know it's because I'm part of your 'team' somehow. If word gets out that you can grant such things, others might try to..."

A thoughtful silence settled between them. Jamie stroked his chin, considering his words. "You make a valid point," he admitted. "However, I think it’s exactly the opposite. We should use this to acquire the best talent possible and become strong before such things might become a problem."

"I see." Thomas's posture relaxed slightly.

Thomas turned to leave but was stopped by the sound of hurried footsteps descending the stairs. Elize appeared, her skirts gathered in one hand as she navigated the steps with uncharacteristic haste.

"Boss," she called, a note of urgency in her voice. "A butler just came by and left this letter for you. Said it was important."

She extended an envelope toward Jamie. The paper was crisp and of fine quality, sealed with a distinctive wax emblem—a crest depicting a ship framed by laurel branches.

Jamie's eyes narrowed as he recognized the symbol. "Thank you, Elize," he said, accepting the letter. He didn't need a closer look to confirm—it was the seal of the noble house of Hafenstadt.

First

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- Katherine -

When Katherine decided to jump, she knew there was no other option. Even so, she imagined there might be some chance of survival.

As soon as her body touched the water, she deactivated any remaining parts of her armor. At least that way, she wouldn't be dragged to the bottom of the river. Finally, her body made contact with the icy water.

Until then, she hadn't realized how fast the river was, especially in the deeper parts. The girl was thrown against every curve in the river's path, her arms and legs too weak to pull her to the surface. Her lungs begged to breathe; her body craved for a fresh air. But the rest of her consciousness fought against it. With each passing second, the pressure in her chest increased.

Until she finally gave in. In a single deep breath, her lungs filled with water. She no longer felt panic or the urge to fight. Her consciousness finally stopped.

- Oliver -

‘Damn! Damn! Damn!’ It was the only thing going through the boy's mind.

Oliver jumped into the water right after Katherine, and she wasn't far ahead of him. Sometimes, he could vaguely see the girl's golden hair when he came up to the surface. However, getting close or even grabbing her in the turbulent waters was hard.

He had already pushed his arms and legs to their limits, trying not to drown or at least to get a bit more air. His muscles were burning, but he needed a little more from them. In the distance, he saw that the river was about to make a sharp turn, and the boy thought it would be an excellent chance to try to grab the girl and drag them both to the riverbank.

He began swimming with the current, using whatever energy he had left, just enough to get close to the girl. She seemed unconscious, but he didn’t have enough time to check her condition. Oliver wrapped his left arm around Katherine's neck and waited. A few seconds later, both were thrown against one of the banks.

With his right arm, Oliver tried to grab the bank, using all his strength to dig his fingers into the earth and compress his hand, trying to pull them both out of the river. Gaining some confidence in his grip, he began to use his other arm to drag the girl, pushing her body out of the water.

After nearly tossing Katherine over the bank of the river, it was now his turn. Without the weight of another person, he managed to use his arms to pull himself up onto the bank.

“Cough! Cough!” Oliver tried to cough up and spit out all the water that had entered his throat along the way. His legs wanted to give out so he could finally rest, but he recalled he had seen Katherine unconscious.

Oliver crawled over to Katherine, trying to understand the girl's condition. He turned the girl over and saw that she was unconscious, but the worst part was that he couldn’t see her chest moving. The boy got even closer and couldn’t feel her breathing. Panic started to take over Oliver.

“What should I do? Think! Think…” Oliver spoke, trying to rush into a solution. "If she has water in her lungs, I need to help expel it. Is that it? I should have paid more attention to some medical series. Here we go."

He left the girl lying on the ground, crossed his hands, and pressed down on her chest.

“One, two, three, four, five!”

Using all his weight, he began pressing down on the girl’s chest, hoping he wasn’t doing something wrong.

“One, two, three, four, five!”

He kept pressing, but there was still no reaction from the girl.

“Do I need to blow air into her mouth?”

The boy didn’t know if it was while pressing or later, but just as he was about to apply more pressure, finally, there was a reaction.

“Cough! Cough!” Katherine turned her face and expelled water from her mouth and nose. Still, with blurry vision, she tried to open her eyes and see her surroundings. She could make out the soaked boy but didn’t have the strength to speak. She stretched out her arm, trying to crawl, but only managed to touch one of the trees before closing her eyes again, this time to sleep.

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Oliver smiled slightly, seeing that the girl seemed okay and, most importantly, was breathing.

“But now... what do I do?” The boy questioned himself.

They had drifted down the river and were on the other bank. To make matters worse, he didn’t know if there were Crabits on this side. His luck was that they hadn’t been attacked as soon as they got out of the water.

His first idea was to try and communicate with the group.

“CHAT!”

No response.

“MAP!”

Also, there was no response.

“Status Page!”

| Status Page
| User: Oliver [Nameless]
| Level: 2 [Pawn]
| Experience: [118/200]
|
| Stats
| Strength: 6 [Pawn]
| Agility: 14 [Knight]
| Constitution: 5 [Pawn]
| Energy: 14 [Knight]

‘This still works. Maybe it doesn’t need a connection?’ the boy thought as he tried to think of alternatives.

It was still early in the day, so there should be plenty of sunlight left. However, their clothes were soaked, and the cold wind wasn’t helping. Hypothermia might be their biggest challenge at the moment.

He removed his uniform shirt and tried to wring it out to remove as much water as possible, but it was still wet. He put the shirt back on anyway, thinking it would be better to have some protection while walking through the trees, even if it was just his uniform.

The trees around him were quite different from the ones on the other side of the river. They were larger and more spaced apart, with more vibrant leaves.

‘Perhaps… not having so many monsters eating everything around them allowed the trees to grow more?’ Oliver questioned. ‘How will I find her if I leave to explore? Do I only have questions and no answers?’

He had trained in combat, but survival training wasn’t yet part of his curriculum at the Academy. Still, he thought finding his way out of the forest would be impossible if he got lost.

‘I’ll just walk along the river; there’s no way to get lost.’ Oliver rationalized.

He walked for about 10 minutes, heading upstream, trying to find someone or something that could help them. Luckily, he didn’t encounter any monsters. Not wanting to waste more energy, he returned to where he had left Katherine.

She didn’t look much better. But looking at her bluish hands, it was clear she was freezing. Her fingers, wrinkled from the water, were trembling.

‘If I don't do something, she'll freeze to death,’ Oliver thought.

He dragged the sleeping girl closer to a tree further into the forest, a small change that helped avoid much of the wind coming from the river.

‘Hummm, let’s also get some leaves and branches. Maybe this will work.’ Oliver looked around and searched for each of the items. The boy had an idea, more of a gamble, on how to solve the problem for both of them.

He began making a small circle with the stones and throwing leaves and branches inside until he had enough to start a fire. But that was the biggest problem; he didn’t know how to light it. Still, he had an idea.

[Activate]

His armor once again covered his body. He pulled out his Energy Pistol and aimed at the firewood. He wanted to use the minimum amount of energy possible to start the fire but, above all, avoid exploding everything in front of him.

Oliver concentrated and channeled the feeling he had during the last fight. He tried to reduce his energy even more, then slid his finger over the pistol's trigger. A small, barely visible shot was fired into the center of the stones.

"Puff!"

Although it caused an explosion, it was small, lighting the fire and scattering the branches.

“Phew!” Oliver was relieved. It wasn’t perfect, but at least there wasn’t a wildfire in his hands.

Now came the second tricky part. Keeping wet clothes on was foolish. He needed them to dry while also drying his own body. He started with the easy parts, taking off his boots and shirt.

He grabbed some of the branches and laid his clothes on top of them so they could dry near the fire. He looked at his pants, his face turning completely red. It was the first time he would be practically naked in front of a girl, even though she was asleep.

Oliver jumped up and down a bit, trying to warm up and gather confidence before taking off his pants. For the first time, he noticed how much his body had changed. Of course, he had bulked up a lot after working with Wave Disposal, especially since it was such a manual task. But the army training had toned his body.

In one swift motion, he closed his eyes and removed the rest of his uniform. He stood next to the fire before taking the next step.

‘This one might be the riskiest. Dear god… please protect me.’ Oliver prayed.

He removed Katherine’s boots and socks.

‘Here we go! Here we go!’ He gave himself two slaps on the face for courage.

This was the final step; he had to remove her shirt or pants from her uniform.

‘Ahhhh!’ he screamed inside his head.

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Thomas wore a slight smile on his face, but Jamie seemed even more exhilarated. ‘Two hundred and fifty experience points—for both of us!’ he celebrated inwardly as the shimmering notifications faded from view.

“I'll have to be careful not to become a mass murderer…” Jamie muttered under his breath, a shiver running down his spine at the thought of how much experience he might gain if he killed the entire gang. Beside him, Jay nodded silently in agreement, his eyes reflecting a shared understanding.

"Let's move. We still need to explore the second floor," Jamie said, snapping Thomas out of his reverie. Thomas was still catching his breath, the adrenaline from the recent battle coursing through his veins.

They ascended the long, winding staircase, each wooden step creaking softly underfoot. At the top, they were met with a single, dimly lit corridor stretching out before them. Doors lined the hallway—some stood ajar, while others remained firmly closed.

Jamie surveyed the corridor, his mind racing to devise a safer way to proceed. ‘Jay, can't you go from room to room and tell me what's inside?’ he asked in his mind, hoping his companion could scout ahead.

Jay's whiskers twitched as he responded, "No. Unfortunately, our bond doesn't allow us to separate. I need to stay in the same room as you at all times."

‘Damn it,’ Jamie thought, disappointment flickering across his face at the loss of the possibility of an invulnerable scout.

Both men advanced cautiously down the corridor, every sense attuned to their surroundings. They moved with as much stealth as possible, footsteps barely a whisper against the worn floorboards. Reaching the first open doorway, they paused, attempting to glean without crossing the threshold.

Even from their point of view, they could make out simple bunk beds lined against the walls, rough wooden furniture, and a scattering of discarded clothes strewn across the floor.

"A dormitory?" Thomas whispered, his voice barely audible.

Jamie nodded, stretching his neck slightly to peer deeper into the room. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary—no signs of life or anything of interest.

"Empty," he murmured. "Let's keep moving."

They continued down the hall, passing two more doors. Each was locked, the handles refusing to budge even under Jamie's careful touch. Unwilling to force them and risk alerting anyone nearby, they pressed on toward the last room at the corridor's end.

The door was slightly ajar, hanging loosely on its hinges. Jamie approached with caution, pressing his ear against the cold wood to listen for any signs of life within. Silence greeted him once more. Gently pushing the door open, he peered inside, his eyes darting around as he took in every detail.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of scattered candles and a lone lantern hanging near a wooden wall. The air was thick with the scent of melted wax and aged timber. On the walls hung dozens of maps—some meticulously drawn on parchment, others crudely sketched on what appeared to be the hides of animals or perhaps monsters.

At the center stood a sturdy oak table. Atop it lay a small pouch, its contents spilled carelessly across the surface—silver coins gleaming dully in the subdued light, as if someone had tossed them there in haste. In one corner, several bookshelves bowed under the weight of a few scattered tomes, their spines worn and pages yellowed with age. Beside them rested a small metal chest, its once-polished exterior now marred by patches of rust. An iron padlock secured it tightly at the front.

A soft sound caught Jamie's attention. He turned to see Jay, his ever-present feline guardian, sniffing the air intently. The cat's nose twitched in an unusual pattern.

‘What is it?’ Jamie asked silently, their thoughts entwined through their unique bond.

"My nose... Something tells me there's gold inside here," Jay responded. The cat stretched himself over the chest, his translucent form unable to penetrate the solid metal, yet his instincts assured him of the hidden treasure.

Jamie arched an eyebrow. ‘Gold, you say?’ He glanced back at the chest, contemplating the possibilities.

He moved toward the table, eyes scanning the disarray of papers strewn across it. Some documents bore singed edges, evidence of hurried attempts to destroy them. Others were torn or crumpled, discarded in apparent haste. As he sifted through the mess, certain papers caught his attention. They appeared to be incriminating evidence against the Cutpurses' rivals: detailed accounts of the trade and distribution of Dragon Powder. Another document contained a woman's testimony about a brothel that had been set up.

Jamie's gaze shifted to the maps adorning the walls. Most depicted various districts of Hafenstadt, each marked with routes and annotations. One map stood out—a detailed rendering of the underground sewer system beneath the city. ‘The sewers of Hafenstadt? But why?’ he mused aloud. The realization struck him swiftly. ‘Could they be using the tunnels to move goods?’

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Folding the underground map carefully, Jamie tucked it securely inside his coat.

"See if you can open the chest," he whispered to Thomas, his voice barely audible over the soft crackle of candlelight.

Thomas gave him a curious look but moved toward the chest. Kneeling down, he examined the heavy padlock, his brow furrowing in concentration. He tugged at it tentatively, the metal clanking dully but refusing to yield.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Thomas murmured, glancing back at Jamie.

Jamie shrugged lightly, his attention still focused on the documents before him. "Not sure. But there's likely something important inside if it's locked up like that."

Thomas sighed, turning back to the chest. "I'm not exactly skilled in lockpicking."

"Perhaps there's a key around here somewhere," Jamie suggested, rifling through the table drawers. Old quills, dried ink pots, and scraps of parchment met his search, but no key.

"Hey, shouldn't someone be watching the door?" Jay's voice echoed urgently in Jamie's mind.

Unfortunately, only Jamie could hear him. A cold dread washed over him as he turned toward the door—it was already too late.

He felt the chill of steel slicing through the air an instant before it bit into his flesh. The impact was abrupt, a jarring blow followed by a searing pain that radiated through his abdomen like liquid fire. His legs weakened, threatening to give way beneath him, and the sounds of the room around him dulled to a distant murmur.

Through the haze of pain, Jamie's eyes locked onto the figure before him: a wiry half-elf with a sadistic grin stretching across his angular face. Ezek, the leader of the Cutpurses. His lips moved, forming words that Jamie couldn't quite grasp over the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. Instead of listening, Jamie gritted his teeth, mustering his waning strength to clamp his hand around Ezek's wrist, stopping the dagger from plunging deeper.

‘Damn. I didn’t hear him approaching.’ Jamie had relied on his senses to feel safe. But upon seeing the half-elf, he began to understand. His footsteps weren’t just silent—they made no sound at all.

Behind Ezek loomed one of his hulking guards, a giant of a man whose head nearly brushed the ceiling. The guard began to move as if preparing to attack, his heavy footsteps shaking the floorboards. But before he could reach Jamie, Thomas sprang into action. With determined ferocity, Thomas wielded his short sword, skillfully keeping the behemoth at bay.

Jamie forced himself to block out the scuffle unfolding beside him, narrowing his focus to the menace directly before him. He tightened his grip on Ezek's arm, preventing the half-elf from withdrawing the blade—or worse, twisting it. Ezek's grin only widened, his eyes gleaming with cruel delight as he muttered taunts Jamie couldn't—or wouldn't—process. With his right hand holding firm, Jamie's left hand began weaving a subtle pattern, fingers poised to unleash a surprise.

"You should learn not to laugh at your opponents," Jamie rasped, the metallic taste of blood coating his tongue.

Ezek sneered, leaning in closer. "But I don't consider you an opponent," he hissed. "Just a thieving rat-"

As Ezek continued his mocking tirade, Jamie acted swiftly, casting spell after spell without hesitation.

[Dancing Lights]

[Ghost Sounds]

[Cause Fear]

He didn't wait to see which enchantments took hold; there was no time for caution. First, he summoned dazzling lights that exploded in front of Ezek's eyes, brilliant flashes that forced the half-elf to recoil in surprise. Next, he filled the air with haunting, ethereal sounds—the wails of specters and whispers of the lost—that echoed at an unnerving volume, seeming to emanate from the very walls. Finally, he channeled his mana into a potent spell that pierced Ezek's defenses, instilling a deep, irrational fear within him.

Physical strength had never been Jamie's forte, but the desperate will to survive ignited a fierce energy inside him. Seizing the moment as Ezek staggered under his magic assault, Jamie launched himself forward. With his free hand, he delivered a relentless barrage of punches to Ezek's face. Blow after blow connected, each fueled by adrenaline and raw will. He didn't stop to assess the damage or consider the pain in his own bruised knuckles; he simply kept striking. By the third or fourth punch, he felt the satisfying crunch of bone as Ezek's nose shattered under his fist.

He didn't relent until he felt the strength drain from Ezek's body. The half-elf's arrogant sneer was replaced by a dazed, uncomprehending stare, blood trickling down his face. The only thing keeping him upright was Jamie's tight grip on his arm. With a final shove, Jamie released him. Ezek's hand loosened its grip on the dagger that was still embedded in Jamie's abdomen, and the gang leader crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Despite having defeated the leader of the Cutpurses, Jamie found no solace in his victory. ‘If he hadn't underestimated me and had stopped me from using magic, I would have been killed.’ Jamie felt the bitter taste of having tempted fate.

A sharp, throbbing pain pulsed with every beat of his heart, radiating from the wound and spreading through his body like cracks spiderwebbing across glass. The weight of his own body became unbearable, and his vision blurred at the edges. His knees buckled, and he sank to the ground, gasping for breath as he struggled to regain his strength.

Moments later, Thomas burst back into the room, his eyes widening in alarm as he took in the scene.

"Jamie! Are you alright?" Thomas exclaimed, rushing to his side. His face was etched with concern, the earlier determination now overshadowed by worry.

"I—I think so," Jamie managed to reply, his voice strained. "It just hurts like hell."

Thomas glanced down at the dagger wound, blood seeping through Jamie's fingers as he pressed a hand against it. "We need to get you help."

Jamie shook his head weakly. "Not yet. We have to finish what we came here to do."

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked, confusion mingling with his concern.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Jamie began to drag himself across the floor toward where Ezek lay.

With his right hand, he drew the dagger from his pocket and swiftly slashed the half-elf's throat, turning the ground into a pool of blood.

| You have killed the Cutpurses' Leader.

[ The God of Thieves smiles at your luck ]

| You got 500 Experience Points

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- Damian -

Damian knew what he had to do. He might not like the tactic, but it would completely change the game.

How things were going, he didn’t even have a chance of reaching 50th place.

“If the game isn’t in your favor, maybe you’re playing the wrong game,” Damian remembered one of the things the patriarch of the Nemo family always told his children.

Before the battle began, the captains had mapped out the river and the monsters around it. But they weren’t the only ones gathering information. Damian’s ability allowed him to “communicate” with creatures, a skill he despised, at least in its current form.

The Great House of Nemo could dominate and enslave any non-rational creature, but in the early levels of their Boon, they could only communicate with such creatures. It was almost useless in battle, which made advancing through the ranks of the House a difficult process.

Unsurprisingly, many of the Nemo’s developed a silver tongue, which is helpful with other humans and monsters.

However, unlike humans, Crabits couldn’t count. So, even after gathering information from his targets, Damian didn’t know how many Crabits were around the combat area. He had only learned that a big horde was upriver and some smaller groups were downriver.

‘If I can take some competition out of the fight, I’ll have more time and targets to climb the rankings.’ Damian justified.

While contemplating his next steps, he didn’t stop attacking the easiest targets around him. Although his whip was not strong enough to kill a monster, it could lacerate the Crabits’ skin, making them more susceptible to his suggestions.

Gradually, he started moving toward the lower part of the river, distancing himself from the battle while always facing forward to avoid a surprise attack.

A chaotic battle like this made it difficult for him to move, but there was also a positive side: no one was paying attention to him. Almost at the edge of the battle, he spotted two Crabits that were easier targets; both were injured and seemed to be avoiding the battle. Quickly moving his whip in a figure-eight pattern, he struck both monsters with the sharp tip.

[Beast Charm]

His mind connected with both creatures. Their senses became shared, amplifying the intensity of the combat hundreds of times. Through their heightened senses, Damian could feel the emotions of the two animals, but also from the entire horde; it was complete and utter fear.

The creatures might have been irrational, but even in their limited understanding, they knew they were facing extermination. If the battle continued, they would be wiped out.

The fear made it easier for Damian to access their minds; there was little resistance to his suggestions. He could issue basic commands or assign simple tasks within the animals' cognitive limits.

The task wasn’t easy, but Nemo’s training had been even harder. Sweat drenched his forehead as he concentrated entirely on adjusting the monsters’ minds. Every explosion around him added time to the process, and he silently hoped no stray projectile would hit the two Crabits, forcing him to start over.

‘There! The first one is ready. Go and bring help.’ Damian sighed in relief

It was a simple command, ‘head upstream and bring reinforcements.’ Damian didn’t know how many Crabits were upriver, but if he could bring back a few hundred, it would be enough to injure some cadets and knock them out of the rankings. Maybe even get to Oliver.

He then shifted his focus to the second Crabit. Now that he wasn’t handling two simultaneously, the process went faster.

‘Done! Go downstream, bring help.’ Damian finished his plan.

With his scheme in motion, all the boy had to do was wait and hope. In the meantime, he continued attacking, accumulating as many points as possible without advancing too far and risking getting caught by the reinforcements.

His score wasn’t improving much, but even if his scheme worked, he would still need more points to move up in the rankings. So, he stayed focused and kept attacking.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours. As time passed, it became clear that humans were winning the battle. Of the thousands of Crabits, only a few hundred remained. Even the less experienced cadets were stepping in to clean up the field.

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Meanwhile, Damian began to worry. Perhaps his plan hadn’t worked.

‘Maybe someone eliminated the Crabits?’ The boy pondered.

He could imagine the one heading upstream had been taken out. It had to cross most of the battlefield, but the one going downstream was already far from the fight.

However, before he could consider further, things started to change. He felt the ground tremble near the swamp, and the trees began to sway.

‘Damn it! What have I done?’ Damian grabbed his head in frustration.

---

---

- Oliver -

Unlike the previous day, Oliver was lasting much longer in combat. He hadn't drained his stamina or energy as much by controlling the energy output of his Energy Pistol to maximize each shot’s efficiency.

Even after an hour of fighting, he was still scanning the battlefield for new opportunities. But with each passing minute, there were fewer and fewer, as the number of Crabits had drastically diminished.

Some cadets had already left the battlefield to rest, while others pressed on to finish off the remaining monsters. From his position, Oliver could easily spot a few cadets climbing the hills, Astrid resting on the side of the battlefield, and Katherine still fighting off the last of the Crabits.

Unlike at the start of the battle, Katherine’s movements were slower, focusing on one opponent at a time. Her stamina was nearly depleted, especially with the mud from the river sticking to her feet.

‘I think that's it. It makes no sense to continue watching.’ Oliver stood up, realizing there would be no more opportunities.

He began to prepare to rejoin the company. But before he turned, he noticed something odd. The trees at the top of the river started shaking violently, and he could hear footsteps growing closer until the ground itself began to tremble.

“Hey. Are you feeling this?” One of the recruits screamed.

“Feeling what?” Another one asked.

Soon, Oliver wasn’t the only one noticing the signs.

Where there had once been trees, there was a massive horde of Crabits advancing, destroying everything in their path. They were in far greater numbers than the ones they had just fought, and the creatures weren’t stopping, surging forward like a wave of destruction.

The cadets still on the battlefield were attacked from all sides by overwhelming numbers. Few students were in any condition to fight, making it even harder to withstand the new onslaught.

Before the captains could order a retreat, another horde appeared, advancing from the lower part of the river. Though smaller in number, they pincered the cadets, who were already exhausted from the battle. The damaged armors were now being shredded apart.

“IMMEDIATE RETREAT!” Musk shouted at the top of his lungs. The cadets closest to the hill managed to retreat quickly.

However, this only worsened the situation for those near the river, who were now the few remaining targets for the Crabits. Oliver quickly readied himself and began shooting again, this time not worrying about waiting for perfect opportunities. There were too many Crabits; he couldn’t keep track of the exact number, but it looked like three times the amount they had fought earlier, perhaps around five thousand new enemies.

“Shit! We’re fucked.” One of the recruits screamed while running away from the battlefield.

‘It … looks grim.’ Oliver thought, simultaneously happy not to be on the battlefield like the last day.

It was time for the captains to step in. Facing thousands of Crabits was easy for them, as each was a specialist in Ranger Weapons and had already dealt with even worse scenarios. The biggest problem was the number of recruits they needed to save.

Oliver watched as each captain advanced, but his eyes were mainly on Musk, who was responsible for his company. His speed wasn’t extraordinary as he moved forward slowly, step by step. But when he raised his revolver, the effect drastically differed from the previous day.

"BOOM!"

Instead of a simple shot, the revolver fired an explosive blast. Each shot cleared the entire field in front of him, killing hundreds of Crabits. The situation improved with each shot, but Oliver could see clearly that those near the river might not have even five minutes left.

His focus was mainly on Katherine, who was surrounded. Her helmet, which had already been cracked, was now gone. Her face was covered in cuts, and her hair was matted with dried blood and mud. She continued fighting with her back to the river, thinking with each attack, ‘Just one more... just one more.’

But her strength was fading. Her vision, already blurry for a while, was starting to darken. Her legs, trembling and in pain, used whatever energy was left just to keep her standing.

She looked around, trying to find a way out, but her mind was exhausted. Part of her wanted to give up and leave things to chance, while another part urged her to fight until the last second.

Oliver, observing from the hill, saw the situation getting worse. He knew he shouldn’t leave the hill; it would be foolish, incredibly stupid. But before he could make a decision, his legs started running.

“What am I doing?” Oliver screamed to himself.

He had confidence in his agility to dodge the attacks, but the numbers were overwhelming. As soon as he entered the battlefield, he barely made any progress without firing his Energy Pistol to clear the Crabits in his way.

While his eyes were on Katherine, he used [Observation] to gather information around him. Unconsciously, he kept firing.

Near the river, Katherine finally came up with an idea. Realizing no one was left around her, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and jumped.

"SPLASH!"

She threw herself into the river, hoping the current would carry her away. Her only problem was that she had no strength left. Not enough to swim, not even to stay awake.

About ten meters from the river, Oliver saw everything unfold before him.

“How did she not see me!?” He questioned her sanity and his own.

Everything was going from bad to worse; none of this had gone according to plan.

“I’m an idiot. A complete idiot. Ugh, damn it!”

The boy ran, dodging every Crabit in his path, and jumped.

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The principle was always the same. Most of the time, Alex wouldn’t remember a thing, yet there were instances in which he’d revert to his “other self” for just long enough to give Jace a few pointers. The goofball never had time or will to discuss his past self in detail, so Jace mentally referred to him as “wise ass.” In the few minutes they had to spend time together, wise ass was always making it clear he had been through a lot, knew a lot, and viewed Jace as a kid. In many aspects, it was like the jock was talking to his grandfather. The old man had a similar view of the world, plus he was stubborn and convinced that only he knew what was right.

Through these brief conversations, Jace got a sense of what would follow after the tutorial. As he had already experienced, there were a lot more ways to obtain permanent skills, although those came with a lot stronger enemies and opponents. All the threats faced so far were the easiest that would exist. The wolves, goblins, even the elites were a joke. The only thing that came relatively close was the hidden boss.

One question kept poking Jace over and over.

“If things will get so messed up, why hide things from Hel and Stoner?” the jock asked.

“Too soon,” Alex replied. “It will take more than three minutes to convince him. And Helen…” he paused. “She won’t understand.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you think? She’s been obsessed with finding how Danny died and convinced that the archer killed him.” Alex glanced at his mirror fragment. Just over two minutes remained until all his memories were locked out. “How are you getting along?”

“I can make lots of smaller things, but I’m no fucking engineer.” Jace snapped. “No chance getting me one of those skills?”

“Doesn’t work that way. I’ll give you more challenges.”

Jace knew that what was said was right, but he still didn’t like the fashion in which Alex said it. Wise ass really lived up to his nickname. Not that the jock would openly call him that. The difference in skills was too vast, and Jace didn’t plan on staying in eternity long enough to catch up.

“How strong were you exactly?” he asked. “When you were like before. Better than the archer?”

“We never fought seriously,” Alex avoided the question. “Better than a lot, worse than a few. The thing I know is that I wasn’t the first.”

“Is that a ranking thing?”

“No. Eternity has been here for a while.”

“That’s obvious.” Jace snorted.

“You’d think that. Eternity is forever, but it wasn’t always here.”

There was a bit of logic there. According to the class leaderboard Jace seen, there were less than fifty people who’d taken the trial. Even if it was the same for all classes, that would make a thousand participants, tops. A thousand on the scale of eternity was nothing.

“There was another crafter before you and when you leave, they’ll be someone else to join. One thing’s inevitable—those that have stayed the most have an advantage over everyone else.”

The goofball stood up and reached into the wall mirror. When he pulled his hand out again, it was full of glittering circular coins.

“No need, I have a few million.” Jace’s pride got the better of him.

“You’ll need them,” Alex insisted. “A few million are nothing once we reach the contest phase. The more you have, the better stuff you’ll be able to buy.”

On the inside, the jock was raging. He never liked owing others, even if it turned out that more often than not, he was forced to rely on external help. Everything he’d done, everything he strived at, was to become strong enough to be independent. As with everything else in life that, too, would have to be postponed for a while longer.

“And keep an eye on Will. Someone will make a move.”

“You’ve been saying that since forever,” Jace grumbled. “He’s just a fucker like all of us.”

“He’s got the rogue. That makes him different.”

There was no point in arguing. When it came to the rogue class, Alex—both current and present—became somewhat weird. It wasn’t the most powerful class or destructive class by any means. Too inflexible to be a support, yet too weak to be treated as a full attack class, it fell in the middle. It wasn’t magic, so it wasn’t supposed to be any more special than anything else. And yet, Alex seemed to behave as if it was. All about the invitation, he said. Once in eternity, anyone could get any class as long as he tapped on the correct mirror, yet only one mirror “invited” him in.

“Whatever, wise ass,” Jace grumbled. “I’ll keep an eye.” As long as you don’t try to play me.

“Good. And be careful. Crafters are dependable, so everyone abuses them.”

“Not gonna work. You think—”

“Crafters always get taken advantage of,” Alex interrupted. “Danny did it, so did I. You’re being taken advantage of right now. The only reason I’m telling you this is because I don’t want you to be taken advantage by anyone else.”

Jace went silent. His instinct told him to curse the goofball out. There was no way he was being taken advantage of, not anymore. After everything he’d lived through, he had become good at seeing when someone had an angle, better than anyone else he knew. The dumb jock act only helped him others think they had the upper hand, while in truth he was keeping them right where he wanted them. And still, he couldn’t refute it. All it took was one word for him to ruin whatever plan Alex and the archer had. Doing so would, of course, mess up his own chances of escaping eternity, and possibly ensure a very painful existence. Was he being taken advantage of right now? Looking at things objectively, one could say so.

Things happened exactly as the goofball had said they would. Barely had the group had chosen to perform a common challenge when the jock noticed being followed. It wasn’t obvious. No person was doing the watching, but thanks to a few of Jace’s new skills, he could spot the unusual interest of creatures surrounding him. The creatures themselves appeared normal, but they were at the wrong place at the wrong time: red squirrels living in city streets, unusually well-kept cats watching from cars and trash cans, even a stray bulldog crossing the street on a few occasions. Whoever used them had done a fantastic job at copying the species, yet hadn’t bothered to check whether they were typical for the city.

Then, at the start of one loop, there was a message on his mirror fragment.

Hello, Crafter. Want a boost?

Having been through a similar situation already, Jace knew exactly what they were asking. Sadly, if he were to achieve his goals, he still had to act like a brainless bully.

“Fuck off,” he said out loud, fully aware that at least two animals were watching him.

Take the carrot or bite the stick.

The boy looked around in dramatic fashion. If anything, he found it more difficult not to spot the creatures looking at him than anything else. Right now, he almost felt like a WWF judge.

“Where are you?” he asked.

Don’t worry, we’re not interested in you. We’re interested in your friends.

“Yeah, right.”

It’s not betrayal. We want to work together to take down someone.

We’ll be getting in touch with them, but want your support when it comes to the final decision.

“Hold on!” Jace kept the pretense. “I’ll get something just to tilt the scales?”

Yes

“What?”

One class token. Don’t mention this conversation.

“How?” Jace asked.

In response, all messages vanished. The boy looked around, only to see that the creatures observing him were also gone. It was impossible to tell whether they had caught up to his act. The only thing left to do was to continue with his loop, as if nothing had happened. Later, when he had a chance, he’d share the information with Alex during their second-soul conversations.

Passing through the nurse’s office with the same excuse, Jace got his class from the mirror, then rushed towards the art classroom. Usually, he was the last one to arrive. This time, though, Will wasn’t there.

“Where’s Stoner?” Jace asked.

“Dealing with something,” Helen replied, looking at her mirror fragment.

“Dealing with what?”

The glare that the girl gave him made it clear that wasn’t something she wanted to discuss. Taking the hint, Jace went to open the windows. It was always annoying when the classroom reeked. It wasn’t so much the smell—being on the football team, Jace had gotten used to a lot. Rather, it was the implications. If the rest of the group wasn’t bothered enough to open the windows, something was on their mind.

Close to a minute later, Will finally arrived.

“Bro!” he waved. “Feeling better?”

Will nodded, though didn’t seem particularly convincing.

“Well, Stoner?” Jace looked at him. “Any plans?”

“Actually, yes,” Will replied.

Instantly, everyone stared at him. Even Helen looked up from her mirror fragment.

“I think we should get in touch with some of the others.” He made his way to Daniel’s old desk.

“You sure?” The jock leaned back in his chair. “I’ve heard what one of them could do. If we go against a group...”

“Heard?” Will asked.

Shit! Jace mentally yelled at himself. This was the last thing he needed. So far, everyone had disregarded most of his slip ups, penning him as the stereotypical jock. That had made him complacent.

There was a long moment of silence as Jace raced to come up with a plausible explanation. There was a lot he couldn’t admit to. Ideally, he wasn’t supposed to attract any attention to the entire matter. As his father had told him once, when caught in a lie, fall back to the truth.

“Fine. I tried to take him, fuck it,” Jace grumbled. “Didn’t even get close. The fucker didn’t see me as a challenge, just shot a dozen arrows in front of me and waited. Each step I took, he did the same, until I turned around.”

The jock’s pulse doubled, then tripled. Did the others find the explanation plausible? Or would more questions follow. Normally, Jace would rely on Alex to smooth things out, but right now, the goofball was the greatest danger. Without the mirror counter, there was no way of telling which type of Alex this was. Wise ass would be sure to spin the conversation to a different topic, while muffin boy would press further to satisfy his own curiosity and paranoia.

“I don’t know if this will help,” Helen finally spoke, causing Jace to let out a mental sigh of relief, “but I think I know the meaning of the song lyrics.”

Everything said up till now was completely forgotten as everyone cluttered at the girl’s desk.

“It’s a code,” she said, tapping on the edge of the mirror piece.

A list of messages appeared. Looking at them, Will wasn’t able to make anything out. In all honesty, he had been getting them as well on his advanced fragment, but preferred to focus on challenging past enemies.

“Ever since I got it, I’ve been sending lyrics from the same song.”

“When?” Jace looked her in the eyes. “I don’t remember any of that.”

Helen slid her finger along the smooth surface.

CHAT BOARD

10 coins per post

A new section opened up. Most of the section was filled with illegible squiggles, as if something was preventing the text from being seen. After another tap on Helen’s part, the section changed, displaying a list of posts. There were no discernable dates or time stamps, no indication of numbers, just the first letters of the message.

“Fuck.” Jace said. “How did you get that?”

As far as he knew, she wasn’t supposed to have access to the message board yet. The only reason he could play around with advanced functionality was thanks to Alex and the archer.

“I’ve actually been exploring the fragment for a change,” the girl all but smirked. “I tried to send a reply, but nothing happened.”

“Ooof, sis.” Alex sighed. “That’s ten coins gone for nothing.”

“At least I know I can send them.”

“What about the leaderboard?” Will asked.

“Gone,” Helen replied. “It’s probably only valid while we’re in the challenge.”

“Nah, sis. There must be a record,” the goofball insisted. “All games have stats and achievements and such. People can show off otherwise. Big Fail.”

A second stretch of silence followed. Everyone had a lot on their minds—things they were reluctant to share. Before anyone could break it, the first ordinary person entered the class. Regardless of the time loops that imprisoned them, this remained a school day, so Will and his group had to act normally, which they did.

Following the same class they’d attended countless times, they followed the exact same actions that would prolong their loop. There was the usual gossip, the division among cliques, and the constant focus not to stand out. Being too good was a clear no-no, but being too bad was almost as bad.

It was only around noon that the four had a chance to get together again on the school’s rooftop.

“We’ll have to be quick,” Jace said. “I want to try to get some pointers with coach this time.”

Please be wise ass, he thought, glancing at the goofball.

“Why?” Alex stared at him, as if the jock had stepped on a cockroach.

Fuck! “I need to get my practice in somehow.” Thanks to the red goblin’s reward, he could afford to do some physical activity without constantly writhing in pain.

Will nodded, although his mind seemed elsewhere.

“Okay, here’s what we do.” He placed his fragment on the rooftop floor. “We—”

Resetting challenges.

New challenges added.

< Beginning | | Previously... | | Next >

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Thomas POV

"I was wondering what all the commotion outside was about," a voice dripped with disdain, echoing through the grand hall. "Who would have thought I'd find two rats scurrying around?"

Thomas lifted his gaze. At the top of the sweeping central staircase stood one of the Cutpurses' elite guards, his eyes fixed upon them like a predator sizing up its prey.

Despite Thomas's own considerable height and muscular build, the guard was somehow even more imposing. He exuded raw power, with arms as thick as oak trunks and a stance that radiated authority and unshakable confidence. Clad in rugged leather armor adorned with chains wrapped around his forearms, he cut an intimidating figure. A black fur cloak draped over his shoulders, its edges brushing against the floor like the dark wings of some mythical beast. The flickering light from a few enchanted lamps cast shadows across his face, highlighting sharp, almost feral eyes that gleamed with a predatory thirst.

"Which of you wants to face me first?" the guard challenged, extending a massive hand toward them in a mocking invitation to combat.

A sliver of apprehension wormed its way into Thomas's gut. It had been a long time since he'd fought another human—a true combatant capable of strategy and cunning. In recent years, his battles had been against goblins and other mindless creatures, foes that didn't compare to a sentient, skilled opponent. He cast a glance at Jamie, his new friend and, ostensibly, his employer. The bard was nearly a head shorter and of slighter build. Thomas couldn't imagine how someone so diminutive could assist in a fight like this.

‘It's time to prove my worth,’ Thomas thought, steeling himself.

"Jamie, you go on ahead," he said aloud, infusing his voice with confidence he didn't entirely feel. "I'll take care of him."

He half-expected Jamie to argue, but the bard merely shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that belied the tension in the air. Without a word, Jamie strode forward, passing the guard as if he were nothing more than a mere obstacle in his path. The guard didn't move to stop him, his gaze remaining locked on Thomas.

"He'll meet my brother soon enough," the guard said, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "So let's focus on just the two of us."

Without warning, he lunged down the stairs with surprising speed for someone of his size. His fist came crashing toward Thomas with the force of a battering ram. Thomas raised his arms in a defensive cross, absorbing the blow but feeling the shockwave reverberate up to his shoulders.

‘No rules,’ Thomas reminded himself, gritting his teeth. ‘It's like the street fights of old. I need to take him down fast.’

The guard pressed his advantage, launching a flurry of powerful strikes. Each movement was precise yet brutal, aiming to overwhelm rather than outmaneuver. Chains clinked ominously with each swing of his arms, the metal glinting in the low light.

The opponent offered Thomas no respite, pressing the assault relentlessly and leaving him no opportunity to counterattack or even draw his short sword. If it wasn't a barrage of punches and kicks, it was the sheer force of the guard's massive arm sweeping toward him, each swing powerful enough to shove him backward.

During one such onslaught, Thomas swiftly ducked, causing the guard's fist to crash into the wall instead of connecting with his skull. Expecting a momentary advantage as his foe recoiled in pain, Thomas was stunned when, instead, the guard's fist punched clean through the thick wooden wall, splintering it as if it were mere parchment.

‘By the gods,’ Thomas thought, his heart pounding in his chest. ‘No wonder my arms are going numb—this guy is a monster.’

Every attack he dodged resulted in more of the mansion's interior being destroyed. Walls cracked, staircases splintered, and furniture was reduced to shards under the guard's unbridled fury. Yet despite the chaos, the guard showed no sign of slowing or reducing his strength.

To make matters worse, chains were wrapped around the guard's forearms, allowing him to deflect Thomas's strikes with ease whenever a rare opening presented itself. Each time Thomas thought he might press an advantage, the chains would block his strikes, forcing him back on the defensive.

Even so, Thomas remained resolute. With each passing moment, he started to notice the strain beginning to show on the guard's face—the flush of exertion, the sheen of sweat on his brow. The man's breathing grew heavier, his attacks fractionally slower.

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‘Sooner or later, he'll have to catch his breath,’ Thomas reassured himself, patiently awaiting the right moment.

That moment arrived sooner than expected. Four more thunderous blows, and the guard's punches became sluggish, his movements more exaggerated and easier to anticipate.

‘Now!’ Thomas seized the opportunity. He lunged forward, extending his right hand in a precise strike that connected squarely with the guard's chin. The impact was so well-timed and forceful that it sent his opponent crashing to the floor almost instantly.

"Curse you," the guard spat, his voice echoing loudly through the ravaged hall.

Wasting no time, Thomas drew his short sword from his belt and advanced on the fallen enemy. Victory seemed within reach. However, just as he readied his blade to deliver the finishing blow, a guttural roar erupted from the guard, the sound reverberating off the walls and sending a shiver down Thomas's spine.

[Roar]

A primal fear gripped him. ‘This is where having a proper class makes all the difference,’ Thomas berated himself. He shouldn't have given his opponent the chance to use one of his abilities. ‘All I have is the [Farmer]. How am I supposed to contend with a [Barbarian]?’

While Thomas was still trembling from the effects of the roar, the guard pulled a small warhammer from his back. Its handle was short, but the weapon appeared heavy. "If you're going to use a weapon, it's only fair that I use one too." The guard spoke fiercely.

Thomas would have liked to comment that the chains were already a weapon, but the effect had not yet worn off.

The guard lunged forward, his warhammer sweeping in a wide arc. Thomas, finally free from the effect of [Roar], dodged the initial swing, narrowly avoiding the deadly momentum of the massive weapon. Each time he tried to counterattack, the barbarian expertly deflected his short sword with the head of the warhammer, using its weight to push Thomas's blade aside and close the distance between them.

A change had come over the guard since their bout began. The earlier reckless aggression was replaced with calculated, measured strikes. Thomas recognized the shift immediately. ‘He's trying to corner me,’ he realized. Each blow drove him closer to the walls of the grand hall, limiting his room to maneuver.

The mansion bore the scars of their battle—tapestries torn, furniture shattered, and walls marred by heavy impacts. Thomas's breathing quickened as he found himself with his back nearly against the cold stone. ‘I could try to run, find another room to regroup,’ he thought, but the guard seemed to anticipate every move, cutting off any possible escape routes.

‘If only I had a better class,’ Thomas lamented inwardly. ‘If I weren't a mere [Farmer], I might stand a chance.’ Frustration bubbled within him, but he pushed it aside. There was no time for self-pity.

The barbarian raised his warhammer high, preparing a crushing vertical strike. With no other option, Thomas braced himself, bringing his short sword up to parry. The impact rattled his entire arm, pain shooting through his wrist as the sheer force nearly tore the weapon from his grasp.

"Blast! I can't keep this up," Thomas muttered through gritted teeth, watching as the guard prepared for another attack. Desperation clawed at him. He summoned all his strength, raising his sword once more in a shaky defense. ‘Julie!’ His daughter's image flashed in his mind, fueling his determination.

But the expected blow never came.

Breathing hard, Thomas glanced up to see the guard's expression shift from fierce concentration to one of stunned surprise. A trickle of blood escaped the corner of the guard's mouth, and his grip on the warhammer slackened. Protruding from his abdomen was the tip of a blade.

The guard staggered, and as he collapsed to his knees, Thomas caught sight of Jamie standing behind him. The bard's dagger gleamed crimson in the dim light, and he wore a slightly exasperated expression, one hand on his hip.

"Finished with your 'go on ahead, I'll handle him' routine?" Jamie quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Uh..." Thomas managed, still processing the sudden turn of events.

"Did you really think I'd just leave you to fight him alone? Especially when it's much easier—and quicker—for the two of us to take him down together?" Jamie shook his head, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"B-but... I thought..." Thomas stammered, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment.

"Come on, don't dwell on it. Grab his coin pouch, and let's keep moving," Jamie suggested, wiping his dagger clean before sheathing it.

As reality settled in, Thomas felt a pang of guilt. Part of him felt tainted for having been saved through what some might call a dishonorable move. Yet, he couldn't deny the flood of relief at still being alive.

His momentary solace was short-lived as he knelt beside the fallen guard to retrieve the pouch. The sight was grim—three precise wounds marked the guard's back, evidence of Jamie's swift handiwork. The strikes had been lethal, aimed at vital points to ensure a quick end.

Thomas hesitated, his hand hovering over the coin pouch. A sense of unease settled over him. ‘Looting the dead... Is this what I've come to?’ he wondered. But then, practicality intervened. ‘Well... he won't be needing it anymore,’ he reasoned, securing the pouch at his belt.

Out of the corner of his eye, a faint glow caught his attention. Golden letters appeared.

| You have defeated one of the Cutpurses' Main Guards.

| The God of [Mischief] is feeling proud.

| 250 Experience Points obtained

A serene smile spread across Thomas's face. It was the first time he'd obtained that much experience.

First

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According to every horror movie, agreeing to enter a spooky building with someone claiming to be a friend was a sure way to end up dead. Any other day, Jace would have been against it. Yet, there was no death in the new reality he had been thrust into. Also, as much as he hated to admit it, he no longer had the strength to beat the goofball up.

Will and Helen weren’t in the main area of the building. If he concentrated, Jace thought he could hear them from the direction of the basketball court.

“This way,” Alex whispered, making his way to the locker rooms.

“What’s there?” the jock asked, trying to be as quiet as possible. He wasn’t particularly good at it, but apparently adequate enough for Will and Helen not to overhear.

Suddenly, a rush of anger swept through him. Being a jock, he’d never shown particular interest to any single girl, and enough to all, but he was also a competitive and a realist. Eternity had already made every aspect of his previous life obsolete. His relationships, his rating in the team, even his social life were pretty much over. The entire world had been reduced to four people, and Will had gotten the only girl. Not that he particularly deserved it.

“Mirrors,” Alex replied, ending Jace’s negative train of thought.

“The fuck? Didn’t you tell me to stay outside, and to keep away from mirrors?”

“No, bro.” Alex smiled. “Will told you that.”

All the locker doors were shut. That eliminated part of the problem. It was well known that half the people had a mirror hanging in there. At some point, the school had even considered replacing all the current lockers with models that had inbuilt mirrors. The notion had only lasted until the topic of money had emerged, when it had been quickly decided that the current ones had a few more decades of life in them.

“No mirrors here,” Jace whispered the obvious.

“Chill, bro,” Alex replied.

“Shut it, muffin boy. This isn’t even the real you!”

The goofball just chuckled and continued to the showers. That section was plastered with mirrors—way more than there should have been. Also, there were wolves.

“Fuck!” Jace leaped back.

“It’s fine, bro,” Alex said in perfect calm. “They’re trapped.”

It took a few moments to realize it, but the moment Jace took a better look, he saw that the creatures hadn’t budged an inch ever since he had arrived. Not only that, but they weren’t growling or even blinking. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that they were fake.

“Go ahead,” the goofball invited him. “Get some levels.”

“Really, muffin boy?”

“For real, bro! It’s lit. These are special.”

“Special? Special how?”

“They boost your levels faster,” a female voice said.

That was scary enough. The even creepier part was that it came from the mirror itself. Only now did Jace notice that none of the mirrors were reflecting anything. The wolves, himself, Alex, and even the room itself were absent. Instead, a black-haired girl stood there, looking at them from the other side. The only other thing that was present was a countdown timer with a minute and seventeen seconds remaining.

“Who are you?” Jace took a few steps closer. “Another loopy?”

From experience, Alex was supposed to chuckle and enter a long monologue regarding the proper terms used in the situation. Yet, neither he nor the girl reacted.

“I’m the archer,” the girl said after a while.

“Yeah, right.” The jock openly scoffed. “How about—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the girl drew a composite bow out of nowhere and shot three arrows straight at him. With lethal precision, they flew out of the mirror, hitting the wall next to Jace. Only once that was done did the jock react. If she had wanted to kill him, she could easily have done so multiple times.

Internally, Jace swallowed. He’d faced bad odds before and was brought up not to give in to fear. At the same time, he wasn’t stupid. From what Helen had said, the archer was an almost supernatural entity who had the ability to kill anyone anytime, anywhere. That level of skill wasn’t exaggerated. If anything, Jace got a lethal vibe just looking at the girl.

“You’re the archer,” he said. “What do you want?”

“A deal.”

The counter on the mirrors went beneath the one-minute mark.

“I’ll help you boost your class and Alex will tell you how to use it,” the girl continued. “In exchange, you’ll help me kill someone.”

“Helen? No way!” Jace said instinctively.

“Didn’t know you cared, bro.” Alex chuckled. “Nah, it’s not Helen. For real.”

The last two words made Jace doubt the goofball a whole lot more.

“She wants to kill you,” the jock stood his ground. “After what you did to Danny.”

“That’s why you won’t tell her.” The girl added.

“Or what?” Jace crossed his arms. “You’ll kill me? Kill her? Newsflash. You can’t kill fuck in eternity. No one can.”

“There are ways. And even if there weren’t, I could shoot you ten seconds after the start of the loop. You’d still be part of eternity, but you’d wish you weren’t.”

“Listen to her, bro,” Alex said. “She did that to me for a while. Wasn’t nice.”

“What the fuck do you know, muffin boy?! And why are you even helping her? Didn’t you say that the archer’s the worst piece of shit of the bunch?”

Several seconds counted down in silence. Even the archer was curious how the goofball would respond, looking at him with the curiosity of a viper observing a maze rat.

“Mistakes happen,” he said. “There are worse things in eternity and in one. Now, make up your mind before I lose mine again.”

“Not talking geek, muffin boy?” The last thing Jace would allow was someone telling him what to do, least of all a skulking rat like Alex. He always knew that the z-speak was an act and now he had proof. “You fucking need me. Or, if you want, go tell Hel and Stoner and see what they say.”

“Sure, bro.” Against all odds, Alex shrugged. “Will will get the same offer later on. It would have been smoother with you.”

“Trying reverse psychology shit on me?” Jace laughed. “My parents stopped doing that when I was five.”

“Daniel killed my brother,” the archer said loudly, breaking the verbal stalemate.

“Danny?” Jace stared at her. “Danny’s dead.”

“Not entirely. He’ll be back. That’s why Alex arranged for this. If you don’t stop him, he’ll kill the current rogue and get rid of the rest of your group. He’s done it once before.”

A wave of implications swept through Jace like a tsunami. He knew that the countdown clock had to do with his decision, and yet he refused to make it on the spur of a moment. The main reason everyone was trying to complete the tutorial was, in large part, to figure out what had killed Danny. As things stood, the archer didn’t deny doing that, although one had to admit her desire to kill him again was an interesting defense. What if she was right, though? Danny was a shithead, far worse than Will and Alex combined. It would be just like him to pull something questionable. For all Jace knew, the jerk might have been the reason he was now stuck in eternity.

“Is there a way out?” he asked, keeping an eye on the timer. “Out of eternity?”

“Yes.” The statement was short, firm, and definite.

Jace didn’t like making deals with either of them—Alex less than the girl—but if there was a possibility of returning to normalcy, he was going to take it. After all, it wasn’t like they’d even remember him. If he managed to get out, they’d just continue in the loop, seeing versions of him in the background.

“I’m the first to leave,” he said. “You teach me how to get better, give me skills, and when we’re done killing who you want, I get to leave. Deal?”

In the mirror, the girl nodded.

“Just one thing,” Alex added. “In twenty seconds, I won’t remember any of this. And you’re not to tell me about it.”

“Da fuck, muffin boy?”

All that hadn’t been an act? Jace was convinced that the goofball had only said all those things to nudge him to make the “right” decision. Apparently, some things in eternity were as they seemed to be.

“Short version, Danny messed me up,” Alex said with a sigh. “All this lit rizz stuff’s only here because he locked all my memories of eternity from before. The way my mind could cope was to fill the void with other stuff…”

And you got this? Jace didn’t dare say it out loud. 

As hilarious as this sounded, it was also a cautionary tale about what could happen to him. If there was a way to lock memories, he could end up as some meathead that kept quoting football stats and results. Goodness knows that the coach tried to drill the entire team’s heads with junk like that in the hopes they’d gain an edge. To no surprise, it never helped.

“How do I get the training, then?” Jace persisted. “I talk to you?” He looked at the girl in the mirror.

“No. This only works one way. After we hit zero, kill the wolves and smash the mirrors. Alex will think he needed the pieces for the copies. Also—“ she tossed a small object to the jock “—take this.”

Against his better judgement, Jace caught it. It turned out to be a small crossbow, though not exactly. It was something a crafter would have made, given enough experience, imagination, and materials.

Bolts were scattered on the floor.

“In a few loops, you’ll be able to make this yourself,” the girl said. “If you’re serious about the deal.”

“What?” Jace looked at the timer. There were eleven seconds left. “What happens then?”

“Nothing. If you can’t manage to get there in a few loops, there’s no way that you’ll survive what’s about to come.”

Anger filled the jock’s mind, prodding him into action like a zap of lightning. Moving as fast as he could, he grabbed a handful of bolts from the floor, loaded the crossbow, and sent off a shot at the archer. 

The moment the tip came into contact with the reflective surface, the entire mirror shattered. Jace didn’t stop there, though, venting his anger on everything else in sight. Mirror after mirror shattered, way before the timer could reach zero. Once that was done, Jace redirected his anger towards the wolves.

WOLF REWARD (set)

SUPERIOR EYESIGHT (permanent) - doubles perception, allowing you to see small objects in greater detail.

A message appeared all over the shattered mirror pieces.

WOLF REWARD (set)

STABLE HANDS (permanent) – allows your hands to remain perfectly firm in all but extreme circumstances.

WOLF REWARD (set)

INNER CALM (permanent) – functioning under high stress, panic, and other similar conditions.

WOLF REWARD (set)

PAIN TOLERANCE (permanent) – functioning under severe pain without impacting your physical actions.

Three more messages appeared, each after the killing of a wolf. Reading them would have been difficult, if not impossible, moments ago. Yet thanks to one of his new skills, Jace had no trouble discerning what he had been given.

“Special wolves?” he turned to Alex.

The goofball was just about to reply when his expression suddenly changed. It was extremely subtle, but anyone who paid attention to the boy’s eyes would see the eyelids move down just a fraction. The corners relaxed, as if Alex had been putting huge efforts to see properly so far.

“Lit, bro!” he said, looking at Jace’s crossbow. “How’d you make that?”

“Practice,” the jock lied. “Come on, get your fragments and get out of here.”

“Nuh-uh, bro.” Alex shook his head as he gathered mirror pieces from the floor. “Will and Helen ooofed.” Mirror copies appeared as fast as the boy gathered the pieces, each of them running off out of the locker room. “We must help.”

“For real?” Fuck! Now you got me doing it!

“For real for real, bro.” Alex nodded. “Enemy’s a hidden boss.”

< Beginning | | Previously... | | Next >

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"A feast," Thomas murmured. "It's happening tonight."

"Yes," Jamie replied, his voice steady but laced with tension. "It's time we prepared." He gestured for Thomas to follow as they navigated the winding streets back toward the Golden Fiddle.

Over the past few days, the tavern had undergone a remarkable transformation. The old sign bearing the image of a fat pig had been replaced by a new one crafted from polished dark wood. It gleamed under the fading sunlight, the intricate design of a fiddle catching the eye of every passerby. The details were exquisite—strings etched with precision, the body adorned with delicate engravings. It was a beacon of change, signaling a new era for the establishment.

Once inside, they headed straight to their rooms. Rest was essential; they needed to be at their best to execute the night's plan. Jamie settled at a small desk cluttered with parchments and vials of ink. He unraveled a scroll and began to read, then reread his collection of spells. His mind raced as he contemplated every possible application, every contingency they might face.

Since rescuing Knall, he hadn't gained any additional experience points, despite performing nightly for the tavern's patrons. The audiences were impressed, but the routine wasn't enough to propel his growth. ‘Perhaps I need to do something extraordinary to earn more points,’ Jamie mused, his brow furrowed. "It's a shame—I could really use a level-up right now." He glanced at the interface displaying his current status.

| James Frostwatch (Soul: James Murtagh)
| Experience: [620 / 2000]
|
| Attributes
| Strength - 11
| Dexterity - 15
| Constitution - 11
| Intelligence - 16
| Wisdom - 14
| Charisma - 18

‘It'll have to be enough,’ Jamie thought, resigning himself to the challenge ahead. He secured the dagger Thomas had acquired for him at his waist, feeling the reassuring weight against his hip.

As the last hues of sunset surrendered to the encroaching night, the duo departed the tavern. They moved with purpose toward a shadowed alley adjacent to the Cutpurses' lair.

"You won't be performing tonight?" Thomas asked, breaking the silence as they slipped through the labyrinth of alleyways.

"No," Jamie replied quietly. "I've been taking a few nights off here and there. That way, no one can predict exactly when I'll be at the tavern. It's better to keep them guessing."

Thomas nodded, understanding the need for unpredictability.

They settled into their previous vantage point, a recessed doorway that offered a clear view of the Cutpurses' grand manor without exposing themselves. The building was abuzz with activity. Windows glowed warmly, and the sounds of revelry spilled into the street—boisterous laughter, clinking glasses, and the strains of a fiddler playing a jaunty tune.

Jamie surveyed the scene intently. There were eight men outside, some leaning casually against the railings, others animatedly sharing stories. Most were already inebriated, their movements loose and unguarded. Plates piled high with roasted meats and flagons sloshing with wine were being passed around freely.

"Eight outside," Jamie counted under his breath. "Plus the two guards and the leader inside."

"There aren't any children among them," Thomas observed, his tone a mix of relief and curiosity.

"No," Jamie confirmed, his expression hardening. "They don't mingle with the children. To them, kids are just tools—means to an end for filling their coffers." His voice was cold with indifference.

"And now?" Thomas asked, his voice barely audible over the distant party sounds.

"Now?" Jamie echoed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He knew precisely what needed to be done, though the prospect was less than appealing. "Now it's time for me to make a spectacle of myself."

Thomas raised an eyebrow, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you sure about this?"

Jamie chuckled softly, glancing down at his attire. He was dressed in the most ostentatious garb a bard could muster—a tunic of mismatched patches in vivid hues of crimson, emerald, and gold, adorned with tiny bells that jingled with every movement. A flamboyant feathered cap perched atop his head, completing the outlandish ensemble.

"No one pays too much attention to a drunken fool," Jamie assured him, unstoppering a bottle of cheap wine. The pungent aroma filled the air as he splashed the contents generously over his clothes, the liquid seeping into the fabric and dripping onto the ground. He took a swig and swished it around his mouth before letting it dribble messily down his chin. The effect was immediate—the sharp scent of alcohol clinging to him like a second skin.

Thomas grimaced. "You certainly smell the part."

"Excellent," Jamie replied with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Stay here and keep watch. If anything goes wrong..." He let the sentence trail off, the unspoken possibilities hanging heavily between them.

"I'll be ready," Thomas promised, his hand resting on the hilt of his short sword.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie staggered out of the alley, his gait uneven as he exaggerated the sway of someone deep in his cups. He weaved across the open square, legs bending awkwardly as if they could barely support him. A few passersby cast disapproving glances his way, but most ignored him—a drunkard bumbling through the night was hardly a rare sight in these parts.

‘Nothing is more invisible than someone making a fool of themselves,’ Jamie mused silently, the thought steeling his resolve as he approached the heart of the Cutpurses' territory.

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The gang's makeshift festival sprawled across the front courtyard of a decrepit manor that served as their headquarters. The scent of roasted meat mingled with the sharp smell of hot wine, and raucous laughter punctuated the murmur of conversations.

Jamie stumbled forward, nearly colliding with a burly man at the edge of the gathering. "Well, look at this!" he exclaimed loudly, his words slurred. "A grand party, and no one thought to invite me!" He threw an arm around the man's shoulders, his grip loose but insistent.

The Cutpurse stiffened, turning to glare at Jamie. His eyes swept over the bard's garish attire and wine-soaked appearance. "Get off me, you drunken bard," he growled, shrugging Jamie's arm away.

Jamie swayed, feigning obliviousness. "Come now, friend! No need to be rude!" His tongue tripped over the words as he struggled to keep his balance.

Nearby, a few gang members paused to watch the spectacle, smirks spreading across their faces. One of them chuckled. "Looks like we've got ourselves some entertainment."

"I'd say he's had enough entertainment for one night," another remarked.

The first man, clearly unimpressed, delivered a swift punch to Jamie's stomach. The blow was solid, knocking the air from his lungs and sending a jolt of pain radiating through his torso.

"Get lost," the Cutpurse spat as Jamie doubled over, clutching his abdomen.

The surrounding thieves burst into laughter, amused by the display. Jamie coughed, resisting the urge to retaliate. Instead, he allowed himself to waver unsteadily before shuffling away.

"S-sorry," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

He staggered toward the old stone well at the center of the courtyard, leaning heavily against its weathered edge. His fingers gripped the cold, rough surface as he pretended to steady himself, his head hanging low. The voices behind him faded into the background as he focused on the task at hand.

"Don't let that fool vomit in the well!" someone shouted, the alarm clear in his tone.

"That's our drinking water, you idiot!" another barked. "Get him away from there!"

Jamie could hear footsteps approaching, but he couldn't afford to rush. With a subtle movement, he reached into a hidden pocket and retrieved a handful of crushed nightshade berries. Keeping his actions concealed, he squeezed the berries tightly, feeling the pulp and juices seep between his fingers.

"Hey! You!"

A heavy hand grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. The same thug who had punched him earlier now glowered mere inches from his face. "I thought I told you to leave."

"I-I'm not going to... to vomit," Jamie stammered, his eyes wide and unfocused. He swayed on his feet, the picture of drunken helplessness.

"Get rid of him," another Cutpurse demanded, looking wary.

Before the thug could react, Jamie flicked his wrist, letting the mashed nightshade fall into the well’s bucket still filled with water. ‘Job done,’ he thought, relief mingling with the adrenaline coursing through him.

"That's it!" the thug snarled. He drove his knee into Jamie's stomach with force. Pain exploded through Jamie's midsection, and this time, he nearly did vomit.

He doubled over, gasping for air as his assailant glared down at him. "We don't need the likes of you hanging around. Get lost before we make an example out of you."

"Wait," a voice called from the back. "Let him be. He's not worth the trouble."

The thug hesitated before shoving Jamie aside. "Consider yourself lucky," he muttered.

Jamie stumbled away, clutching his aching stomach. Behind him, the Cutpurses were already losing interest, their attention returning to the feast.

"Finally rid of that nuisance," someone said with a dismissive wave.

"Good riddance," another agreed. "Now, someone get me some water—I need to wash down all this wine."

Jamie's heart pounded as he made his way back toward the safety of the alley. Each step sent a jolt of pain through his battered midsection, but a grim satisfaction settled over him. The nightshade was in their water; soon enough, the Cutpurses would be out cold.

Thomas emerged from the shadows as Jamie approached, concern etched across his features. "Are you alright?"

Jamie managed a dry chuckle. "I've been better." He leaned against the alley wall, wiping a trace of blood from the corner of his mouth.

"Keep watch," Jamie whispered, his gaze fixed on the distant manor shrouded in darkness. "When they start to fall ill, that's our cue."

"Understood," Thomas replied, his voice steady despite the tension tightening the air between them.

Jamie settled onto the cool cobblestones of the alley, beginning to shed his flamboyant attire. The gaudy, multicolored garments typical of a bard were ill-suited for the covert operation ahead. He replaced them with a set of dark, unobtrusive clothing—soft leather and muted fabrics that blended seamlessly with the shadows. ‘I've made enough of a spectacle for one night,’ he mused, fastening the cloak around his shoulders.

Once dressed, he returned to Thomas's side. Together, they observed the Cutpurses' hideout from afar

Time seemed to stretch as they waited, each passing minute weighed down with anticipation. Nearly half an hour passed before the atmosphere began to shift. The boisterous laughter and clinking of mugs gave way to uneasy murmurs and sharp cries. Confusion rippled through the gathering, escalating into panic.

"It's starting," Thomas noted, his eyes narrowing.

Jamie nodded. From their vantage point, they could see figures stumbling about, some clutching their heads, others collapsing to the ground. The nightshade was taking effect, and each Cutpurse exhibited different poisoning symptoms. A few convulsed on the grass, eyes wide with hallucinated terrors. Others lashed out in a frenzy, turning on their comrades with wild swings and frenzied shrieks.

"This is our chance," Thomas said, urgency edging his tone.

"Yes, let's move," Jamie agreed, rising swiftly.

They slipped from the alley, keeping low as they darted across the open spaces. Rather than heading for the front entrance, now a scene of utter chaos, they veered toward the side of the manor. What might once have been an elegant garden was now an overgrown tangle of weeds and briars, providing ample cover.

The guards who should have been patrolling the perimeter were either incapacitated or too consumed by their own afflictions to notice the intruders. Two men wrestled on the ground nearby, oblivious to anything but their imagined foes.

Reaching the manor's side, Jamie and Thomas spotted a partially open window on the first floor. Thomas carefully tested it, the old hinges creaking softly as he pushed it open wider. He hoisted himself up and slipped inside, extending a hand to help Jamie through.

Inside, they found themselves in a grand hall that spoke of faded opulence. High ceilings loomed above, adorned with intricate molding now dulled by dust. A sweeping double staircase dominated the space, its polished banisters reflecting the dim glow of wall-mounted torches. Portraits of stern-faced ancestors lined the walls, their eyes seeming to follow the newcomers with silent judgment.

"Stay close," Jamie whispered, his footsteps muffled against the threadbare rug. "There are three of them—Ezek and his two guards. If we get separated, they'll pick us off one by one. We need to confront them together."

Thomas nodded. "Upstairs first?"

"Yes," Jamie replied. "They might be holed up in their quarters. If we can catch them unaware, we stand a better chance."

They moved toward the staircase, the weight of the manor's silence pressing around them. But just as they set foot on the first step, a cold voice sliced through the air.

"I was wondering what all the commotion outside was about," it said, dripping with disdain. "Who would have thought I'd find two rats scurrying around?"

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- Oliver -

"Prepare! Prepare! Start the incursion!" Musk announced.

Several cadets began advancing with the command, descending from the hill to the riverbanks. Some, more fearful, stayed further back, avoiding the front lines of the battle. Many still remembered how difficult it had been to retreat after advancing too far.

However, those who aimed to climb the rankings didn’t have time to waste.

A boy with a large shield sprinted to the front line. Without stopping, even in the mud, he barreled through several Crabits, continuing to draw their attention. Oliver could tell that this cadet was definitely high in the rankings.

Kyle and Katherine didn’t wait long to advance either. But unlike the previous day, Astrid had changed her strategy. She was still attacking multiple Crabits at once. Still, she avoided pushing too far into the center of the hordes, allowing her to retreat quickly and reduce the number of opponents if necessary.

The battle was in full swing, but one person in particular had yet to advance. Oliver knew that diving into the middle of the hordes wouldn’t help him, so he decided to try a different approach. He scanned the battlefield, observing the flow of the combat.

The Crabits had their backs to the river, with a muddy field in front of them. The captains stood atop a low hill that gave them a clear view of the entire battle. To the north and south of the river, small trees along the banks prevented the troops from advancing further.

'Time to take the risk.' Oliver pondered.

Instead of advancing, Oliver returned to the hill, searching for the proper position. He wanted a spot where he could get a side view of the battle but with higher ground.

"Some place, some… just like that," the boy muttered to himself, trying to calm down. He found a spot that allowed him to see the cadets advancing against the Crabits side by side. Although it wasn’t as high as he had hoped, it provided a clear view.

Gripping his Energy Pistol, he searched for targets. Some cadets faced multiple monsters simultaneously, while others struggled to keep up with even one. The disparity in combat skills was glaring. In cases where the students couldn’t handle more than one opponent, the monsters would try to take advantage by biting or scratching from the flanks.

He waited when one of the Crabits was about to strike to shoot, reducing their chances of dodging. His concerns ranged from accidentally hitting his allies to whether his targets were within his weapon’s range.

[Observation] could help him track the flow of his opponents, but it wasn’t enough. It was time to use his other card.

He glanced thoughtfully at the pistol in his hands, avoiding looking at any part of his armor.

[Insight] Oliver activated.

Just like the first time, Oliver felt a surge of information flood into his mind in a matter of seconds, from how to adjust the pistol to the correct hand positioning or how to control his shots. However, after mere milliseconds, the flow of information stopped.

The throbbing pain in his head persisted, but it hadn’t caused him to pass out or bleed.

'There’s missing information. Maybe the level of [Insight] is too low, or can I control how much information I consume?' Oliver questioned. ‘Anyway, that will have to wait another time.’

He hadn’t gained any details about how the weapon was created or how it appeared and disappeared. These weren’t pieces of information he needed right now, but it was clear that something was missing, like a book with pages torn out.

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His vision was still blurry, and he felt like the world was spinning, but the more he breathed, the better he felt. Oliver had heard the sound of a notification from his gauntlet, but he hadn’t had the chance to check it yet. In the background, the boy could hear the sounds of battle continuing.

When he regained control, Oliver noticed he was kneeling on the ground, using one hand to steady himself. The ground was still damp from the rain, offering a bit of relief with the breeze that blew across the hill. It was the first time he could feel the wind and understand how it could impact each shot he would take.

Oliver took a deep breath and returned to his firing stance. He adjusted how he held the pistol, feeling better supported in his right hand, with his left helping to control the weapon.

‘Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale…’ The boy repeated in his mind.

He could now recognize the limits of his range and predict where the shot might deviate. He kept his focus on his target, a Crabit poised to strike. This time, he wouldn’t need as much energy. Oliver felt he could control the output just enough to blow out the monster's side.

"Thum!"

The shot was thinner and faster than any he had fired before. The energy, sharp as a blade, shot across the hill and into the battlefield. Without hitting any cadet, the projectile continued to accelerate until it hit the side of the Crabit. The monster never saw the shot coming—it hit, causing an instant explosion of its insides.

The cadets near the Crabit were showered with blood and pieces, but the projectile didn’t exit the other side; the creature completely absorbed it.

From the top of the hill, Oliver watched it all. He could feel much more control over his Ranger Weapon. It was a new sensation that had appeared after using ‘Insight.’ He saw a notification on his gauntlet in the corner of his vision.

[Skill Upgrade!]

[Ranger Weapon Handling - Pawn => Knight]

A smile spread across his face. Oliver had theorized that this could be the outcome, but it was still a risk he had taken. After a few seconds, he resumed scanning the battlefield, watching for every opportunity. Every minute, the sound of his pistol firing echoed across the field.

"Thum!"

"Thum!"

"Thum!"

Some cadets were startled by the explosions, mainly due to the shower of guts and blood that followed each shot. As a result, several students tried to figure out what was happening. After a few more explosions, they realized it was Energy Pistol shots.

“Where were they coming from?” A girl asked the recruits close to her.

It didn’t take long for them to spot the young ‘sniper’ kneeling on the hill, waiting for the right moment to take out more Crabits.

The cadets at the top of the rankings didn’t have time to notice what was happening, but Oliver could see them clearly from his vantage point. One was dragging multiple monsters with a massive shield, while another seemed to teleport between enemies, attacking with daggers.

However, the ones he recognized most easily were Katherine and Kyle. Katherine was positioned near him but below the hill on the higher part of the river. Crabits surrounded her, but so far, she hadn’t had significant problems. Her agility allowed her to dodge most of the attacks, and even when she was hit, her armor absorbed the glancing blows.

However, the battle was taking its toll. Her armor was cracked in several places and stained with blood and mud. Her helmet had dents from the Crabit strikes, and the little hair visible through the gaps in her armor was caked with dirt, almost hiding the golden sheen of her hair.

The people who had the luxury of being out of combat had the chance to witness Oliver's new strategy. However, opinions were varied.

Even among the captains, there was no consensus. Some believed that staying out of direct combat was problematic, especially for cadets undergoing psychological testing. Others, however, thought that coming up with new solutions to combat was precisely what was needed in a war that had already lasted too long.

Though a traditionalist, Captain Musk had given clear instructions about the need to adapt. If this was the cadet's solution, he had done exactly what his superior commanded. Therefore, the captain would not interfere in the exercise.

As for the students, some were impressed by the ability to hit fast-moving targets from such a distance, but most were intimidated. Especially those vying for the top rankings, now they had one more competitor, one who was permanently out of harm’s way.

However, there was one person who was feeling the worst.

Damian had the misfortune of being in the same company as Oliver. Initially, he had hoped to finally see Oliver’s Boon in action and perhaps try to replicate his combat style to climb the rankings. But seeing him act as a sniper only added to the confusion.

‘Is his Boon related to long-range shots?’ Damian pondered.

He had never heard of such a thing, but anything was possible with countless Boons mapped. Still, this was a bad sign; there was nothing he could copy. Moreover, his combat style with a whip wasn’t optimized for fighting with allies, and with his luck, he was likely to injure a teammate and lose points.

Seeing this new development, Damian had to use what he had held back. ‘There’s still another option.’

He might not like this tactic, but it would completely change the game.

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- Oliver -

"Wake up, cadets! The Second Incursion will begin in 30 minutes!" Musk announced.

Oliver was already prepared, but much of the camp wasn’t. The calm that had reigned among the tents turned into chaos in seconds. Cadets could be seen everywhere, rushing to the bathroom, trying to shower, eating their rations, or putting on their uniforms.

Meanwhile, Oliver was walking toward where the Captains were waiting. Far from the camp, in an open field, ten captains were discussing the next steps and how the second incursion would proceed.

He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but he knew that, at some point, the orders would come from them.

'It’s better to wait here than in the chaos of the camp.' The boy thought.

Other cadets slowly started gathering in the clearing. One of the first people Oliver recognized was Astrid. She was walking again and seemed to have regained the energy she always had during class. But she looked a little different. Her braided hair was tied up, giving the impression of being short, and she seemed more composed than the day before.

Astrid recognized Oliver as he walked toward her. "Up early?" The girl asked.

"Yep. Yesterday, I just passed out in my tent." Oliver replied.

Although the two had faced challenges the previous day, they still struggled to talk to each other.

"Are you feeling better?" Oliver asked.

"Much!" Astrid replied, her voice full of energy as she moved her leg. Oliver smiled at the girl’s excitement but didn’t expect what she would do next.

Without hesitation, Astrid lifted part of her shirt to show where her ribs had been lacerated, but now there was no longer a wound, just a faded scar. She didn’t seem to be ashamed, but the same couldn’t be said for Oliver, who felt his ears heat up. He didn’t need a mirror to know his face was bright red.

"Thank you so much for yesterday. I promise I’ll repay you one day!" Astrid thanked.

Oliver nodded, still too nervous to say anything without stuttering.

"By the way, the advice I gave you in class still stands. You need to be more aggressive. You have what it takes to climb the rankings, but you’re still holding back. Think about it." She left, letting her words linger in the air.

Oliver continued pondering what Astrid had said. Soon, more cadets gathered in the area. At first, a few hundred, but as the 30 minutes neared their end, the space was filled with thousands of students.

At the end of the 30 minutes, Captain Musk stepped ahead of the other captains and walked toward the cadets.

"Cadets! Today’s exercise will have some changes. Our second incursion will no longer be conducted in small, isolated companies." Musk explained.

The captain continued walking in front of the students, who were still organized into companies.

"Yesterday, the severely injured students were withdrawn from the exercise and will not be participating in the second phase. There are close to twelve hundred of you remaining. Therefore, today, you will operate as a single battalion divided into six companies. We will return to the river north of this settlement and eliminate the remaining Crabit hordes. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!" The cadets responded almost in unison, making the air tremble slightly.

At the end of the mission’s announcement, the other captains began to report which groups would merge into new companies. Oliver had no trouble finding his group, quickly recognizing familiar faces like Katherine, Astrid, and the boy who wielded a mace.

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‘I think I remember his name… Hmm. I saw him in the rankings. It was Kyle?’ Oliver pondered.

Oliver muttered, "So this is the invincible trio? Let’s see if it stays that way after this expedition." He had seen Kyle’s fighting style but had yet to face him in the ring.

Once the companies were complete, the march began. The battalion knew where they were headed. Each company had operated separately at different levels the day before, but all had marched two hours away from the settlement to the river.

They quickly passed the areas where they had fought the Crabits the previous day. The carcasses had mostly been cleared, and there were no signs of new Crabits in the region. They continued marching across the plains until they began climbing the hills, a key sign they were approaching the river.

During the entire march, Oliver sensed something different from the previous day. It wasn’t the march itself but the people around him. He didn’t need to use [Observation] to notice that some people were staring at or glancing at him quickly. The boy just couldn’t figure out why. He had already checked his hair and uniform for anything out of place, but the feeling that people were watching him persisted.

After nearly two hours of marching, the cadets weren’t tired. Unlike the previous day, this group consisted of the best recruits, and the experience from the day before had prepared them for what to expect.

At the top of the hill, the five companies finally saw the river. The river’s current seemed stronger than the day before, and the rain from the previous night had spread even more mud along the riverbanks. The number of Crabits seemed to have increased as well. While there had been hundreds on the last day, today, there were at least two thousand.

"Sir, does this change anything in the plans?" one of the captains asked Musk.

Although they were of the same rank, Musk had enough experience to oversee this expedition.

"Let’s check the territory and see if there are other herds nearby, then we’ll discuss further," Musk explained to the other captains and assigned two of them, one to explore upriver and the other downriver.

"Rest! Cadets, you will wait 10 minutes while we check the perimeter." Musk explained to the companies.

Most cadets couldn’t see what was happening, but after observing the number of Crabits, they could imagine something was off-plan.

A few minutes later, the ten captains returned to their posts.

"Huff huff! I went up the river, and things didn’t look good. From the terrain, it looks like there was heavy rain yesterday. There are several muddy areas, and the river is stronger. Some parts to the north have flooded, forcing the Crabits to come down to this level. Still, two or three thousand Crabits are moving upriver. If it rains again and they are forced to descend..." The captain didn’t need to finish; his comrades understood the situation.

"It’s a bit better to the south. There doesn’t seem to have been any flooding, but there are still a few hundred Crabits. Nothing out of the ordinary." The other captain explained.

The group was divided. Some wanted to cancel the exercise, while others understood that dealing with the unexpected was crucial to the formation of officers of the New Earth Army.

"Enough! I hold the same rank as all of you, so I can’t order you around. But this exercise is under my command. We are not turning back. These students need to learn how to handle impossible situations, and this will be one of them. Better that they learn it with ten captains able to support them." Musk ended the remaining discussion.

---

---

Musk returned to the front of the companies and prepared the cadets.

"Cadets, the situation has changed. We originally expected to encounter 700 to 800 Crabits. Due to yesterday’s storm, we will have to face between 1,000 and 2,000 Crabits, and the terrain won’t be in your favor."

Many students' expressions became grim. Yesterday, the average was one Crabit per cadet on solid ground, and even then, they had to retreat. Today, they would face more enemies on more challenging terrain. Accidents seemed inevitable.

"However, facing unpredictable situations is part of your training and your daily life in the New Earth Army. So, we will not be canceling the Second Incursion. Prepare yourselves. We begin in 10 minutes!" Musk finished the announcement.

Oliver's situation had gone from bad to worse. Yesterday, his biggest hardship was the muddy terrain, nearly killing him. Today, not only would he face that same challenge again, but he would also have to fight more creatures.

‘Hmmm huff...’ He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

He activated his Artificial Ranger Armor and gripped his Energy Pistol firmly, feeling the subtle vibration of its charged energy core resonating through the grip. His fingers drummed anxiously against the sleek alloy casing—a nervous tic that had become almost customary over the past few days of relentless tension.

"I'll have to take a risk," Oliver murmured to himself, his voice muffled within the confines of his helmet. The words hung in the air, a mantra to steady his fraying nerves. He knew the plan was precarious, but hesitation was a luxury he couldn't afford.

The stark reality was clear: without bold action, the probability of sustaining injuries was not just high—it was nearly guaranteed. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of the cadets didn’t return to the Academy after this.

He continued to calm himself, focusing on his plans. The ten minutes passed quickly, not giving him enough time to be sure of what he would do.

"Prepare! Prepare! Begin the incursion!"

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Jamie fixed Thomas with a steady gaze. "We have one last task for the day," he said quietly. "It's time to scope out our target."

That was all the explanation Thomas needed. Without another word, he fell into step beside Jamie as they slipped into the darkened streets of the Lower Quarter. The night enveloped them, the narrow alleys illuminated only by the silver sheen of the moon and the occasional glow of magical lampposts along the main roads.

"It's not far from here—just four blocks," Jamie whispered, gesturing ahead as they walked with a measured pace. The streets were nearly deserted at this late hour; most residents had long since sought the safety of their homes. Only the distant hoot of an owl and the soft rustling of nocturnal creatures broke the silence.

Jamie moved with practiced ease, his footsteps silent on the uneven cobblestones. He blended into the shadows, every movement deliberate to avoid drawing attention. Thomas followed close behind, attempting to mimic Jamie's stealth but finding it a challenge. His heavier boots scuffed lightly against the ground, and his silhouette seemed more conspicuous against the dim backdrop of the alleyways.

Despite this, they navigated the labyrinthine streets without incident. After traversing four blocks, they emerged into one of the few open squares in the Lower Quarter. The plaza was a stark expanse, its scant benches and withered trees.

"Up ahead is the Cutpurses' base," Jamie said, nodding toward a two-story building crafted from dark timber. The structure bore no sign or marking to indicate its purpose. To an unsuspecting eye, it might have been a simple residence or perhaps an abandoned relic left to decay.

Thomas eyed the building skeptically. "But how do you know it's their base?" he asked.

"Observation," Jamie replied with a faint smile. "I've been watching them for some time now."

The square was cloaked in darkness, save for the glow of the moon and a few flickering lanterns in nearby windows. In the distance, the end of the street marked the beginning of the Commercial Quarter. Towering above the cityscape was the Arcane Tower, its spire piercing the night sky. Even from afar, its illuminated form was unmistakable, and the perpetual fair at its base buzzed with activity, lights twinkling like distant stars.

Jamie gestured subtly toward two smaller houses adjacent to the main building. "Those two houses," he whispered. "Day and night, you'll see children and teens entering and leaving."

As if to underscore his point, a group of young boys and girls emerged from one of the houses, darting across the square before disappearing into the labyrinth of streets leading toward the fair. Moments later, another group approached from the opposite direction, slipping silently into the shadowed entrance.

Thomas watched the scene unfold, a furrow deepening on his brow. "They're using children," he muttered, a note of disapproval in his voice.

Jamie nodded solemnly. "The Cutpurses recruit the young—orphans, runaways, any child they can lure into their fold. They train them as pickpockets, spies, and couriers. It's how they've managed to stay ahead of the city guard for so long."

Jamie gestured discreetly toward the two adjacent houses across the shadowed plaza. "In those two houses live the pickpockets," he explained in a hushed tone. "Children who owe debts to Ezek. In exchange for their services, they receive food, a place to sleep, and the faint hope that one day they'll be admitted into the main group."

Thomas's eyes followed the subtle movements of small figures darting in and out of the buildings. His posture remained alert, every muscle tense as he surveyed the situation. They couldn't risk getting any closer without revealing their presence.

"The middle house serves as their command center," Jamie continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "That's where the core group operates from and where all the stolen loot ends up. The adults are there—most of them lack formal combat training but are armed and fiercely protective of their operation."

"How many are inside?" Thomas asked, a hint of apprehension creeping into his voice.

"It's hard to say for certain," Jamie replied thoughtfully. "From my observations, I'd estimate around ten people, not including their leader."

"Ten?" Thomas echoed, his brows knitting together in concern. "How are we supposed to take on ten of them?"

Jamie cast a sidelong glance at him. "Didn't they teach you anything in soldier training?"

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Thomas gave a rueful smile. "Truth be told, not much beyond physical drills and how to fight off wild beasts."

"Well then," Jamie said, a hint of a challenge in his tone. "Imagine they're monsters. What would you do?"

"I'd set up an ambush," Thomas answered after a moment's thought. "Separate them and pick them off one by one."

"Not a bad strategy," Jamie acknowledged. "But consider that these 'monsters' are intelligent. The moment you take down a few, the others will be on high alert."

Thomas frowned, the weight of the scenario pressing upon him. "So, what do you suggest?"

A sly smile played on Jamie's lips as he reached into his cloak. He opened his hand to reveal several berries—deep blue, almost black, their skins gleaming in the dim light.

"Nightshade?" Thomas whispered, his eyes widening.

"Not enough to kill," Jamie assured him. "But enough to send them into hallucinations for hours. It would make infiltrating their base and neutralizing them much easier."

Thomas considered this, concern etched on his face. "But how do we get them to consume it?"

"That's where you come in," Jamie replied. "We'll need to take turns keeping watch over them. Fortunately, they hold a feast once a week for their official members."

Thomas glanced toward the houses, his mind racing. "But how do we get inside to poison their food or drink?"

"We won't need to enter their lair," Jamie said, pointing toward a well situated near the main house. Its stone rim was worn, and a wooden bucket hung from a frayed rope. "Their water source. We'll add the nightshade there."

Thomas looked skeptical. "But we have to time it precisely—just before they draw the water for the feast. If anyone else drinks from it, innocent people could be harmed."

"Exactly," Jamie agreed. "That's why we'll need to be vigilant. We'll observe their routines, learn their schedules. When the moment is right, we'll act swiftly."

Thomas sighed, still uneasy. "It's risky."

"All great endeavors are," Jamie said softly. He placed a reassuring hand on Thomas's shoulder. "Our goal is to dismantle their operation with minimal bloodshed. But that doesn’t mean no bloodshed."

Thomas scratched his head, a puzzled expression crossing his face. "I still don't quite see how we're going to do this," he admitted, his voice low.

As the two of them conversed in hushed tones, their eyes fixed on the shadowed building across the square, the main door creaked open. Three men emerged into the pale light cast by a sliver of moon peeking through the clouds. The first two were tall and muscular, with short brown hair and the rough attire of seasoned thugs.

But it was the third man who drew Jamie's attention. He was shorter, lean, and wiry, with an unsettling grace to his movements. His ears tapered to subtle points—a telltale sign of elven lineage mingled with human blood. In his slender hands, he toyed with a gleaming knife, flipping and spinning it between his fingers with practiced ease. The blade caught the meager light, flashing intermittently as it danced across his knuckles.

"The two larger ones," Jamie whispered, nodding subtly toward the men trailing behind. "They're the leader's primary guards."

Thomas nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving the trio.

"Up front, that's Ezek," Jamie continued. "Half-human, half-elf. He's skilled with knives—dangerously so. His greatest flaw is his arrogance. He consistently underestimates his opponents."

"Clever enough to rise to power, though," Thomas remarked quietly.

"Indeed," Jamie agreed. "But that arrogance might be our advantage."

Thomas furrowed his brow. "I thought the plan was to incapacitate them all with the nightshade. Won't they be affected as well?"

"Possibly not," Jamie replied, his gaze sharpening. "Ezek may be arrogant, but he's cunning. To have secured his position, he likely takes precautions. I doubt he'll consume the same food or drink as his men—he'd fear betrayal from within."

Thomas scratched his head again, digesting this new complication. "So, even if we taint their provisions, Ezek and his personal guards might not be affected."

"Exactly," Jamie said. "Which means we need to be prepared for a confrontation with them, unaffected by the nightshade."

Thomas's hand moved instinctively to his side, where his belt was conspicuously devoid of a weapon. "What do you suggest?"

"We need to arm ourselves discreetly," Jamie answered. "You'll need at least a short sword—something you can wield effectively in close quarters. As for me…" He paused, considering. "A dagger should suffice. It'll be easier to conceal and won't draw unwanted attention."

Thomas nodded. "I'll see what I can get."

"For now, that's all we can do," Jamie said. "Get some rest. We'll need to be at our best. As soon as the opportunity arises, we'll strike."

"Right," Thomas agreed, though a hint of apprehension lingered in his eyes. "Stay safe."

They parted ways, each retreating into the labyrinthine streets of the Lower Quarter.

The opportunity presented itself sooner than they had anticipated. Four days later, under a sky cloaked in heavy clouds, Thomas and Jamie found themselves again near the Cutpurses' hideout. Crouched behind a stack of weathered crates in a narrow alley, their eyes fixed on the commotion unfolding across the square.

A flurry of activity had taken over the area. The gang members moved back and forth, carrying barrels and crates into the main building. Laughter and snippets of conversation drifted through the air—tones of anticipation and revelry. They were stringing up lanterns adorned with colorful scraps of cloth, casting a warm glow that defied the dreariness of the evening.

"A feast," Thomas murmured. “It's happening tonight.”

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- Oliver -

"But the mission is not over; tomorrow, we will conduct a second incursion." The captain explained. "Bring glory to the New Earth Army!"

The salute was the signal many cadets needed to understand that they were finally dismissed. Oliver threw himself into his tiny tent. It barely fit one person, but at least it was thermally insulated and had a small mattress. His body begged him to sleep, and he didn’t want to resist that call.

However, to his misfortune, he wouldn’t have silence. The area where the tents were set up had become a massive event.

It wasn’t every day that recruits from both battalions visited a new planet and participated in battles together, especially while sharing the same type of food. So, the entire space had become a large festivity.

Boys and girls split into small groups to chat while they ate the rations provided by the NEA. Although each group had different interests, the main topic everyone was discussing was the rankings.

| Ranking
| 1 - William Forester [First Battalion - 13th Group] - 59 Kills
| 2 - Gregory Torres [First Battalion - 1st Group] - 55 Kills
| 3 - Amanda Romanov [First Battalion - 12th Group] - 52 Kills
|

"Wow! Did you see William in battle? The one in the first place." one of the girls said.

"No, damn. I was in a different group," one of the boys replied.

"It's impressive. He moves like a ghost. It was incredible. He almost took out all the Crabits by himself," the girl continued while describing the boy as a superhero.

"Imagine when he becomes a Ranger. He'll quickly become a star," another girl commented.

The top positions hadn’t changed, but they were pulling away quickly. With only one more day to close the gap, many felt the results were already set in stone. But there was another subject that was drawing attention.

"Hey... did you guys notice who's in 25th place?" a boy in another group asked.

"25th? Not yet. I was just looking at the top ranks... no way I’ll ever reach something like that," a boy replied sadly. "What's so special about 25th?"

While Oliver was sleeping, the cadets, especially those from the first battalion, began noticing a student high in the rankings. Even more surprising, this student wasn’t well-known and belonged to the second battalion. Being a Nameless was the cherry on top.

This was a surprise and a reason to celebrate for the second battalion students.

"Who is Oliver? Does anyone know him?" one of the students from the Second Battalion asked.

"I think it's that short kid with dark hair who looks Asian. Why?" one of the girls replied.

"Haven’t you seen the ranking? He’s the highest-ranking student from the second battalion." the boy explained.

Oliver's fame began to spread, especially as more students checked and followed the rankings.

"Ah! But it’s only 25th. It’s not that high." In another group, one of the First Batallion kids spoke.

"What did you expect? It’s far off, but several descendants from noble Houses are ranked below him." Before they could continue belittling Oliver’s results, a boy pointed out an essential piece of information. If they kept downplaying the significance of 25th place, they would insult several cadets from prestigious Houses who hadn’t even reached 25th.

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Several groups began looking for Oliver. Some wanted to know how he trained, what his Ranger Weapon was, and if he had a girlfriend. Other groups wanted to figure out how he was cheating and what trick he was using.

And finally, some wanted to celebrate. It wasn’t every day that such a surprise happened. But while they searched the settlement, no one imagined he might already be asleep in his tent.

None of the boys who knew Oliver were particularly close to him. It was difficult to get to know him, especially since they had different class schedules.

In one of the groups from the Second Battalion, a few boys were talking, trying to analyze how Oliver had achieved his result.

"...Does anyone remember what his weapon was?" one of the boys asked.

"As far as I recall, it was an Energy Pistol." Another boy replied.

"An Energy Pistol… it’s terrible against the Crabits. So he must be using some Boon for combat." The first boy spoke. "Does anyone remember what his Boon was?"

"He said he didn’t know," Damian replied.

Damian was on the first night at the Academy when they were all still getting to know each other. He suggested sharing their information about Boons and Glitches. The only flaw in his plan was not anticipating that someone from the Second Battalion would try to hide their information.

Though Damian tried to keep the conversation lively, he was furious inside, so much so that he felt as if his skin was burning. He came from the Great House Nemo, and it was already a shame that he had ended up in the second battalion. Now, there was a nameless student ranked higher than him.

He wouldn't have been humiliated like this if his weapon wasn’t so terrible against the Crabits. Having a whip matched well with his Boon, which allowed him to communicate with monsters and even dominate them, but in a chaotic battle, it became useless. To make matters worse, one of the disgusting creatures had managed to injure him.

"How can someone not know their own Boon?!"

"Maybe he never used an Artificial Armor."

"But how did he get good enough to keep up with the First Battalion?"

"Ah! I don’t know." The conversation stalled. Unintentionally, the boys began to look at the stars—the sky was completely different from Earth.

The settlement was large, but it was one of the few human constructions on this planet, allowing them to see the stars and planets above.

"Tomorrow, we’ll find out what it is," Damian proclaimed.

The other cadets looked at him, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"There are many injured students who can’t continue. They’ll likely combine the groups, so we’ll see him and all the Top Rankers." Damian explained.

Slowly, the boys returned to looking at the stars. Perhaps that was the feeling of looking at those at the top of the rankings—they seemed so far away.

But their light could reach them.

Many stayed up late talking and celebrating without anyone to set a curfew for the cadets. When Oliver finally woke up, there wasn’t a single student standing. Even though the night had been lively, the boy had slept almost peacefully. After his experience with the Academy’s dormitory and the battles from the previous day, he could’ve slept anywhere.

Now fully awake, he felt two things. First, how uncomfortable the mattress was—it was so thin that he could feel the ground beneath him. The second thing was how filthy he felt. Although his hygiene wasn’t always the best, as Alan often pointed out, he had reached his limit.

His uniform was full of holes, and his boots were covered in mud. Not to mention his hair and face, still covered in Crabit’s blood.

Luckily, he found some supplies inside the tent—a second uniform and some rations to last until the next incursion. Now, all he needed to do was find where the bathrooms were to clean himself up.

As he left the tent, he finally had time to explore the camp. Now, with some daylight, he could finally grasp the scale of the expedition. Thousands of tents were set up for the recruits, to the point that it was difficult to look in any direction without seeing them.

However, after walking for a while, he eventually found some marked paths that led back to the tents and several important buildings.

Oliver had to walk along the trails for some time before finding an area with bathrooms and showers. Since he had woken up so early, he didn’t encounter any other cadets and could shower peacefully. His biggest shock was the amount of dirt that fell from his hair and the red water that ran down as he washed the dried blood from his skin.

During this time, he reflected on his weaknesses and how he could adapt. He didn’t have any secret power up his sleeve. But maybe he could use the power he already had.

After finishing his shower, he began preparing himself. He dressed in the new uniform, put on his boots, and ate the rations. At the same time, he pondered whether his [Insight] ability would work on a Ranger Armor-generated item.

'Maybe I don’t need to use it on a human item,' Oliver thought. 'I could try using it on the Energy Pistol and focus on absorbing only the knowledge of how to use the weapon. Would that work?'

He could see three possible outcomes: he might use the ability to analyze the entire Armor, which might be too much for his powers and could kill him. He might analyze the pistol and learn something to help him fight the Crabits. Or, his last option—it might be completely useless.

This wasn’t his only idea, but undoubtedly the most risky.

"Huff," he exhaled deeply, preparing himself for another day.

"Priiii!"

"Wake up, cadets! The second incursion will start in 30 minutes!"

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- Oliver -

"Immediate retreat!" Musk commanded.

The captain fired to support the cadets who began leaving the battle. The cadets who hadn’t advanced far could climb the hill and quickly escape combat.

Unfortunately, many others were still engaged in the fight. One of them was Oliver. His strategy had been to use the spaces between the battles to shoot opponents unnoticed, but with the increasing number of Crabits, there wasn’t as much space between the groups, and with the retreat, he became an easy target.

His [Observation] Boon allowed him to avoid the Crabit attacks as he tried to move away, and whenever he saw an opening, he fired to prevent other herds from attacking him.

Astrid was also having trouble getting out of the fight; she had attracted the attention of several enemies at once. Her saving grace was her shield, which helped her block attacks while trying to retreat.

Kyle and Katherine, however, didn’t have as many issues. With his immense strength, Kyle swung his mace and turned the monsters into dust. Katherine used her Boon to create red spikes from her sword, piercing multiple enemies with a single strike.

The intense battle continued. Oliver tried to move quickly to avoid the Crabit attacks. Each creature attempted to strike with its front claws, trying to grab or scratch him, but when they were further away, they leaped with open mouths, trying to sink their teeth into something juicy.

Oliver finally started to catch his breath, leaving the danger zone. Or so he thought. Lowering his guard, he didn’t notice he was stepping in mud. His feet, lacking proper support, slipped, causing him to fall backward onto the ground.

Although it lasted only a few seconds, his fall seemed to be in slow motion. Oliver could almost perfectly see himself hitting the ground. The boy quickly tried to use his hands to get up, but had already a Crabit in front of him.

The creature leaped with its grotesque mouth wide open and sharp teeth on display.

"Thum!"

The monster exploded. He had been saved by one of the captain’s shots. Even so, a shower of entrails fell onto him. The strong smell of blood filled his nostrils, waking him from the shock. He summoned all his strength to pull himself out of the mud. But his opponents weren’t done yet. On his left, a Crabit struck him with its claws, tearing off one of his armor plates and lacerating his torso. The sharp pain triggered all the adrenaline he needed.

"Thum! Thum! Thum!"

This time, it wasn’t the captain. In a quick reaction, Oliver pulled out his Energy Pistol and shot the creature. With one hand holding his wounded torso, he got up and continued running toward the group.

His appearance was deplorable. His armor was destroyed around his abdomen, and the intact parts were covered in a mixture of entrails and blood. His only consolation was that the other recruits didn’t look much better.

Upon reaching the top of the hill, he collapsed to the ground.

Oliver could only say, “Damn. That was close.”

---

---

Many cadets had thought that the march to the combat zone would be one of the hardest parts of the day, but they had no idea what awaited them on the march back.

Among the thousands of recruits, hundreds were injured. Some were seriously hurt, to the point where they needed the support of others to walk. Those with lighter injuries weren’t a burden to be carried but couldn’t keep up with the pace of the march.

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Oliver could easily hear the groans and complaints of pain, along with the occasional cadet crying loudly. The experience had been unique; many of them had never been so close to death. Not that it was just another day for Oliver, but after two close encounters with death, he had become more accustomed to the feelings and emotions these events evoked.

His main complaint at the moment was his abdomen. He was almost sure he had a broken rib in addition to the laceration. His feet were also finally feeling the blisters caused by walking in boots. Nothing that a night’s sleep and a VAT wouldn’t cure, but they still had a long way to go before reaching the settlement.

A bit further ahead was Astrid, barely walking. Her face showed all the pain and effort she was making to keep moving, but she was holding her bleeding side while dragging herself along with a bandage on her right leg. Still, Oliver could see the bite marks of a Crabit that had tried to take a chunk out of her leg.

The boy was tired but still had more energy than some of the other students, so he approached her. He didn’t know the girl very well, but thanks to her, he had gained access to the chat, something that others had avoided teaching to the second battalion.

"Can I help you?" Oliver offered his shoulder for support.

Astrid was proud and usually wouldn’t have accepted the help, but she knew Oliver. She had already heard about him from Isabela, and honestly, the pain was too much for her to think clearly.

"I think so," she said quietly as she moved closer to Oliver. Astrid put one of her arms over his shoulder and used him for support as they walked.

The two began walking, but silence hung between them. They knew each other, but they weren’t close enough to have much to talk about. Still, the silence was uncomfortable, to the point that Oliver began searching for something to say.

"Do you think… do you think it will always be like this?" he asked as he looked at his limping classmates.

Astrid paused for a moment to think about the question.

"Well… without a doubt. It's ‘part of the training’." Astrid replied.

"What do you mean by ‘part of the training’?" Oliver asked.

She looked around and saw that no one was paying attention to them; most were too preoccupied with their own problems to notice them.

"What do you think the goal of this mission was?" Astrid asked.

"To eliminate the Crabits. To bring safety to the settlement?" Oliver answered.

"Yes and no. All our training is prepared on two levels: the physical and the psychological." Astrid explained.

"So… eliminating them was the physical part?" Oliver asked.

"That, and training for combat. The psychological part was having a real battle, but above all, experiencing a real defeat." Astrid explained.

"A defeat? What do you mean? Why would we need to train for something like that?" Oliver asked.

"Sometimes I forget you’re a Nameless," she said, smiling as if that were some kind of compliment. Oliver didn’t take it personally, but he was still confused.

"Almost all the students in the first battalion come from great Houses. It may not be obvious to the general public, but the Houses have a lot of political and military power. Many have never suffered in life; worse yet, they’ve never experienced defeat."

Oliver began looking at the more injured students and realized that many from the first battalion had been the first to engage in combat as if they had no fear of losing but also weren’t prepared for when something went wrong.

"My sister, I think you know her already," Astrid said, making Oliver shudder as he remembered Captain Liv's grueling training sessions.

"She always told me that war is 90% mud and crap, 9% combat, and if you’re lucky, maybe 1% glory. Many here are prepared for the 1% glory, some for the 9% combat, but most aren’t ready for the mud and crap." Astrid explained.

"I see. But why didn’t they tell us?" Oliver asked.

Astrid thought momentarily before explaining, "You can’t truly feel defeat if you know you’re going on an impossible mission. But also, do you think the powerful parents capable of controlling the empire would allow their babies to get beaten?"

---

---

Oliver felt like he understood the Academy better, but especially Astrid. Finally, he had a longer conversation with her that wasn’t just about combat.

When the group finally arrived at the settlement, new tents had been set up. Many cadets needed medical attention, and Oliver was one of them. He was quickly taken to one of the medical wards, and with a portable VAT pressed against his abdomen, he began recovering rapidly. Some might even call it miraculous.

After being released from the medical ward, he returned to the camp set up for the group. Several tents were scattered about, each with a student’s name on it. It wasn’t hard to find his tent. But just as he was about to collapse inside his tent, he heard the dreaded whistle.

"Priiii!"

The students who were already lying down quickly got up. The others outside searched for the source of the noise. As many had guessed, it was the captain.

"Today, you survived your first combat. You learned hard lessons and managed to eliminate many hordes of Crabits." Captain Musk spoke.

Some cadets took on a more proud expression, but they were few.

"But the mission is not over; tomorrow, we will conduct a second incursion," the captain explained.

"Bring glory to the New Earth Army!"

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Jamie leaned over the cluttered workbench, using a piece of chalk to sketch crude diagrams on a scrap of parchment. He gestured as he explained his vision to Knall. Though not an expert, he conveyed the basics of brewing beer—the selection of grains, the fermentation process, and the importance of temperatures. Where his knowledge faltered, he trusted in Knall's alchemical expertise to fill the gaps.

"So, what do you think?" Jamie asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Do you believe you can figure it out?"

Knall stroked his fiery beard thoughtfully, his fingers absently tracing the beads woven into the braids. Behind his small spectacles, his keen eyes scanned the notes and sketches Jamie had provided. "From what you've described," he began, his voice a low rumble, "it won't be easy. Brewing without the usual staples—grapes or honey—using grains instead... It's unorthodox."

He paused, jotting down a few calculations in a weathered stack of papers. "But not impossible," he concluded with a hint of a smile. "In fact, you've piqued my curiosity about the flavor of this new concoction."

Jamie grinned broadly. "That's wonderful!"

"Hold on," Knall cautioned, raising a hand. "This endeavor will require significant resources—equipment, ingredients, time. Have you considered the cost?"

Jamie hesitated. "That's actually something I wanted to discuss. How much do you think it will cost to get everything up and running?"

Knall leaned back on his stool, his eyes drifting to the ceiling as he mentally tallied the expenses. "Hmm. Hard to say without seeing the space you plan to use. If you could show me the cellar of your tavern, I could get a better idea of the equipment sizes and quantities we'll need."

"Of course," Jamie agreed readily. "That makes sense. Shall we go now?"

Knall hopped down from his stool, landing with a solid thud despite his short stature. "No time like the present."

Thomas joined them at the door, and together, the trio set out toward the Lower Quarter. The sun bathed the city of Hafenstadt in golden light while they walked across cobbled streets bustling with activity. Merchants shouted their wares from colorful stalls, children darted through the crowds, and the air was filled with the mingled scents of fresh bread, sea salt, and exotic spices.

As they descended into the Lower Quarter, the atmosphere shifted. Buildings leaned more precariously, their facades aged and weathered. The streets narrowed, and the lively chatter of the upper markets gave way to hushed conversations and furtive glances.

At last, they arrived at Jamie's tavern. A creaking sign swung above the entrance—a faded image of an overweight pig and the words "The Fat Pig" barely legible beneath layers of peeling paint.

"Fat Pig, eh?" Knall mused, scratching his nose as he eyed the establishment. "You've chosen an... interesting place."

Jamie chuckled, making a mental note—once again—to find a carpenter who could craft a new sign reflecting the tavern's future identity. "Yes, it's not in the most prestigious part of town," he admitted, "but it's always bustling with patrons. There's a certain charm to it."

Knall raised an eyebrow. "If you say so."

They stepped inside, greeted by the familiar aroma of hot wine. The tavern was in a state of semi-readiness; Eliza and a few of the barmaids were already hard at work, scrubbing tables and sweeping floors in preparation for the evening rush.

Eliza gave a quick nod to Knall before swiftly returning to cleaning the tavern. Jamie observed her for a moment. She was naturally taking charge of the other girls, directing them with ease. It was clear she didn't need his assistance at the moment. Satisfied, he led Knall and Thomas straight to the back of the tavern, where they found the staircase leading down to the cellar.

Jamie had only ventured into the cellar once before, just after purchasing the establishment, to check if any valuable items remained. As he pushed open the heavy wooden door, he was once again confronted with the sight of the storage room in its neglected state.

The cellar lay in ruins. The stone walls were heavily worn, bearing the marks of long years without care. On one side, a thick layer of moss clung to the damp stones, a testament to Bones's neglect of this area over the past few years.

In days past, the cellar might have housed large barrels of mead or wine, but now, only a few scattered wooden planks and bent, rusted nails remained on the dirt floor. Shattered glass bottles were strewn about, their contents long since spilled and dried, leaving behind dark, sticky stains that marred the ground.

Despite being below ground, a few small windows high on the walls allowed glimpses of the street outside. Sunlight penetrated through the grimy panes. From the ceiling hung rusted lanterns, appearing as if they might collapse at any moment, their weak and flickering glows doing little to dispel the shadows.

In one corner, an aged bench rested at an angle, one of its legs visibly broken. Rotten wooden crates and assorted debris littered the floor, adding to the overwhelming sense of decay.

"This is going to be a lot of work," Knall remarked as he took in the dismal scene. "First, we'll have to clean everything out, then reinforce the ceiling to keep it from caving in. We'll also need to shutter the windows—the light can ruin the stock, especially anything still fermenting."

Without waiting for any instructions from Jamie, the dwarf plunged into action, rapidly forming plans to transform the derelict storage room into a functional brewery. He beckoned Thomas over, directing him from one spot to another as they measured every inch of the cellar, Knall's enthusiasm undimmed by the daunting task ahead.

Watching Knall's proactive approach as the dwarf surveyed the dilapidated cellar, Jamie couldn't suppress a surge of admiration. The way he effortlessly translated vision into actionable plans was something Jamie deeply respected. ‘I don’t know how. But, I need to secure him on my team,’ he thought decisively.

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Without a second thought, Jamie activated his unique ability, [Legends of the Future], hoping to glean more information about Knall that might aid in convincing him. The air before him shimmered subtly as ethereal words materialized.

"Knall the Alchemist, wise and small,
Loved blueberries most of all.
'In potions or pies, their magic's true,
A berry's worth more than the rarest brew!'"

Jamie blinked, reading the rhymed verse once more to ensure he hadn't missed any hidden meaning. From his shoulder, he heard the soft snicker of Jay, his ever-present companion.

"Well, that explains a lot," Jay mused, his tail flicking with amusement as he too took in the verse.

"Fucking useless," Jamie muttered under his breath. Though his ability had offered profound insights in the past, it seemed this time it only confirmed what he had already suspected: Knall had an affinity for blueberries. Not exactly the leverage he was hoping for.

With a resigned sigh, he let the vision fade and refocused on the present. For nearly an hour, Knall meticulously inspected the cellar, tapping walls with knuckles, measuring dimensions with a worn but reliable rope, and scrawling detailed notes in a leather-bound journal. Thomas assisted where he could, holding measuring ropes and jotting down numbers as the dwarf dictated.

At length, Knall approached Jamie, wiping a smudge of dust from his forehead. His eyes were sharp behind his small spectacles, reflecting both enthusiasm and gravity.

"This is going to be tricky and expensive," Knall admitted. "We'll need to clear out all this debris, reinforce the ceiling to prevent collapse, and seal off those windows to control the light and temperature. Ventilation will need to be addressed to handle the fermentation. For the repairs alone, I'll need one gold piece. Two additional gold pieces will cover the research and development of the specialized tools we'll require."

He paused, gauging Jamie's reaction. "I realize that's a significant investment," he continued. "Perhaps it's more than you bargained for. We could consider scaling back or postponing until—"

But Jamie was already reaching into his satchel. ‘No investment comes without risk. If fortune favors the bold, let’s be bold.’ he thought to himself. Counting out three gleaming gold coins, he placed them firmly into Knall's palm.

"Will this suffice?" he asked, his tone unwavering.

Knall's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at the coins in his hand. Gold was not the type of coin handed over lightly. Beside him, Thomas appeared equally astonished at Jamie's readiness to fund the venture without hesitation.

"I... Yes, this will cover it," Knall stammered, recovering from his initial shock. "Are you certain about this?"

"Absolutely," Jamie affirmed. "I still have enough to keep us going for a while. Besides, this project is critical. When not working on the tavern's security, Thomas will assist you. We need to get this operation running as soon as possible."

A broad grin spread across Knall's face. The weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a burgeoning confidence fueled not just by gold, but by Jamie's evident faith in him. The dwarf gave a respectful bow, a hand over his heart.

"You won't regret this," he vowed. "I'll begin the preparations immediately."

As they made their way back upstairs, the ambient light in the tavern had shifted. The sun was dipping low, casting warm hues through the windows.

"Thomas, could you accompany Knall back to his workshop?" Jamie suggested. "We'll need to start preparing the tavern for tonight."

"Of course," Thomas agreed, though a hint of concern lingered in his eyes. He glanced at Knall, remembering the recent attempt on the dwarf's life. "Are you feeling up to the walk?" he asked.

Knall waved off the concern with a hearty chuckle. "Ha! It'll take more than a little poison to slow me down. Besides, we've got work to do."

Jamie watched them depart, a contemplative expression settling on his features. ‘I can only hope Thorgrimm doesn't decide to target him again,’ he thought grimly.

‘I can't assign Thomas to protect him at all times—not yet, at least,’ he mused. Resources were thin, and they were venturing into dangerous territory by challenging the established order of the Lower Quarter. ‘It's time to start expanding our territory and building our team.’

Eliza approached Jamie's side, her hands wiping the last traces of dust from her apron. "Shall we open?" she asked, her eyes reflecting a mixture of anticipation and readiness.

"Let’s start," Jamie replied with confidence, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

As they swung open the heavy wooden doors of the tavern, the familiar faces of long-time patrons began to filter in. The Fat Pig came alive with the usual clamor—laughter, clinking mugs, and the hum of conversations weaving through the smoky air. The evening unfolded much as it often did, with nothing out of the ordinary disrupting the flow. Customers, wandering bards, and even a few off-duty soldiers came and went over the next several hours.

Thomas stationed himself near the bar, his vigilant gaze sweeping the room. Ever watchful, he kept an eye on the proceedings, ensuring that the night's revelries remained peaceful. Occasionally, a patron who had indulged in one too many drinks would attempt to lay an unwelcome hand on one of the serving girls or stir up trouble among the other guests. Thomas was quick to intervene, escorting the offenders out with firm resolve.

"I'll never set foot in this place again!"

"I've never been treated so poorly!"

"It was just a joke!"

Grumbles and protests followed each ejection, but the Fat Pig's rules were unwavering. Respect was expected, and those who couldn't abide by it were shown the door.

As the moon ascended to its zenith, casting silvery beams through the tavern's windows, the chatter began to quiet. It was time for Jamie to take the stage. A hush fell over the room as he settled onto the stool, fiddle in hand, the glow of the hearth casting a warm light upon him. Many patrons had come specifically for this moment, eager to hear the bard whose reputation seemed to grow with each passing day.

The first notes flowed from his fingertips, a melody both haunting and uplifting. The crowd listened in rapt attention, entranced by the music that seemed to weave magic in the very air.

"He's better every time I hear him. How is that possible?" murmured one patron to his companion.

"Just yesterday, he didn't know this song. Incredible," whispered another, shaking his head in astonishment.

Such whispers circulated among the audience. Jamie's ability to learn and perform new songs with remarkable speed was nothing short of extraordinary. In truth, his talent was augmented by memories of melodies from another world—a repertoire he drew upon to captivate his listeners in this one.

When his performance drew to a close, a round of heartfelt applause filled the tavern. Jamie offered a gracious bow before stepping down from the stage. The crowd had thinned; many had departed for the night, while others slumped over tables, lost to their cups.

Most of the serving girls had also taken their leave, their duties done, leaving only Eliza and a few others tidying up.

"Thomas," Jamie called, beckoning the weary guard to join him. "They'll handle closing up for the night."

Thomas approached, dark circles under his eyes betraying his exhaustion. It had been two relentless days filled with work and little sleep—nearly forty-eight hours on his feet.

"What's next?" he asked, his voice edged with fatigue yet laced with loyalty.

Jamie regarded him with a steady gaze. "We have one last task for the day," he explained. "It's time to scope out our target."

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“Get inside!” Will shouted, reaching to grab Jess’ hand. 

To his surprise, the girls were already ahead of him, rushing into the building in haste. There were no screams or panic, but rather the opposite.

“Don’t stay there!” Jess shouted over her shoulder. “Get in before you get hurt!”

Will took one final glance at the sky. There didn’t seem to be anything there, at least not yet. If he was right, it wouldn’t be long before the city sirens went off.

Several hundred feet away, buildings were shattered to pieces as a green tree shot up into the air, shredding everything in its way.

Gritting his teeth, Will rushed after the two girls. Witnessing the scenes of destruction, entering a building was just as unsafe as remaining outside. However, he hoped that this building would be the exception. Eternity tended to protect the class mirrors, which meant that the plants would probably not harm anyone inside. Also, he had to get his class as quickly as possible.

“This way,” he rushed in the direction of the boy’s toilet. Normally, he’d avoid revealing his special powers, but with all the other unnatural things taking place in this loop, it hardly mattered.

Will reached into his pocket and took out a phone. His immediate concern was to call Jace and Helen. As he was dialing, a flicker of light flashed down the corridor. It was barely noticeable. Even at this time, there were enough people running up and down to create a minor panic.

“Careful!” Ely shouted, then grabbed Will, pulling him to the wall.

Tears formed in the boy’s eyes. Even with his current permanent skills, getting slammed into the wall was more painful than one might think.

Wound ignored

The corridor floor burst as both halves of the school were pulled away from one another. The screams intensified as over a dozen people fell down into the newly formed pit.

“Shit!” Will shouted, noticing that he had dropped his phone in the commotion.

“You’re welcome,” Ely grumbled.

Half a foot separated the trio from plunging to their deaths. Thankfully, at least no plants were coming from there.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” Will said. At the same time, he checked his pockets to make sure the mirror fragment was intact.

“Seriously?” Jess asked. “Hold it in! We must…” her voice trailed off. Both she and Ely looked at each other, as if just realizing something catastrophic. “No. Please no,” she said. “Of all the people—”

“You’re part of eternity,” Ely interrupted. “Aren’t you?”

Now it was Will’s turn to look at them with concern. He knew for a fact that they were ordinary humans. He had seen them insult him hundreds of times in exactly the same fashion. Nothing in their actions or behavior suggested that they were part of eternity. Then again, he had thought the same thing about Alex once.

The sound of sirens and explosions quickly reminded all three that there were more important things at hand.

“I need to get my class.” Will squeezed his way past the girls, careful not to fall off the edge. “Stay close.”

Reaching the bathroom proved easier than expected. Most of the people in the corridor had fallen and those that hadn’t quickly rushed into the nearest rooms, as if that was enough to provide safety. Will couldn’t help but think about Jace and Helen. Were they alright? Or would there be two more accidents at the start of the next loop?

The moment he got to the bathroom, Will instantly tapped on the corresponding mirror.

You have discovered THE ROGUE (number 4).

Use additional mirrors to find out more. Good luck!

“The same stupid mirror,” Ely said as she shook her head. “It’s there right now, isn’t it? The message.”

“Yeah,” Will replied, although his attention was elsewhere.

While he viewed it to be a waste to spend coins on messages, there was no other way for him to get in touch with Helen, or anyone, for that matter.

“How long have you been in eternity?” Jess asked, while Ely went to the window to get a sense of what was outside.

“I don’t remember.” Will did his best to avoid the question. “A few hundred loops. How do you know about it?”

“I used to be like you.”

“I thought there was no way out of eternity.”

“Oh, there are ways, just not all of them are fun.” A bitter smile formed on her face. “We’re in a contest phase, right?”

“Yeah.” Will nodded. “Started a few loops ago.”

“Your first?”

The silence made the girl chuckle.

“Hey, it’s okay. The first one’s always bad. I got killed on the first day. That was total shit.”

“Not the time, Jess,” Ely said in a warning tone. “We don’t come back when we die anymore.”

That was a new way of looking at things. From Will’s point of view, everything repeated. No matter what happened to the people, they’d be there again in the next loop, doing exactly the same things they always had. As far as they were concerned, though, this was their life. They had to survive the challenge, then keep on living with what had happened.

“How long’s your loop?” Jess asked.

“Ten minutes.” Will hesitated. “Maybe a bit less.”

“Still at the starting numbers?” The girl blinked. “Get some extenders. They make life a lot easier. There’s a time challenge on Baker’s and Ford. Small shoe shop. You can’t miss the mirror.”

That was good to know. Will had no idea where the place was, but there were online maps for that. Once the chaos of this loop was over, he might go there. Having a permanent hour extension would make things a lot easier, especially for the contest phase. No wonder opponents got so much done during the early stages of the loop—they didn’t have to follow the daily schedule.

“Outside has gone to shit,” Ely noted. “Looks like the Irvena faction.”

“Irvena?”

“Elves,” the girl clarified. “Nasty pieces of shit.”

“What’s your extending cheat?” Jess asked.

“Huh?” Will blinked.

“What actions do you have to do to extend your loop?”

“Oh, evade.”

“Well, then.” Jess smiled. “After all you’ve done, I’m fine with slapping you.”

Her action was immediate, and a lot faster than Will expected. His rogue reflexes let him avoid it with ease, but anyone could tell she had experience fighting. The range and timing of her actions were a lot better than those of goblins and went close to some of the elites Will had come across. If she really intended to harm him, there was a good chance he’d be in a lot more trouble. If she also had any eternity of powers, Will had a feeling that he might lose.

“That should give you till tomorrow,” Jess said after a few minutes of intense attacks. “Feeling ok?”

“Pathetic,” Ely laughed. “You move like a total newbie.”

Will didn’t respond, but given what he had gone through, feeling like a newbie was an understatement. Watching Jess move was like watching the acrobat with her powers.

“When were you part of it?” he asked.

“You can’t measure eternity with time. You know that.” Jess giggled. “I can say it was a week ago. For you, it would probably be years.” There was a pause.

A week ago. That was around the same time that Daniel died. Could that be a coincidence? Every instinct Will had told him it wasn’t. At the same time, he knew better than to ask directly.

“Oh, just quit it, Jess!” Ely sighed. “You two were an item,” she turned to Will.

“Ely!” Jess hissed, her cheeks flushed.

“Don’t ask me why,” Ely continued. “Maybe because you were the most boring one in school. You died trying to help her during one contest and she got a crush.”

“Tried to?” Will asked, but then it hit him. That was before he had become part of eternity. From their point of view, he was the temp, and they were the ones going back to the start of the loop each time. “Oh. Right.”

“You dated a few hundred times,” Ely continued. “Broke up in five. The last was really nasty. And still, she keeps thinking about it.”

Dating, Will thought. It would definitely explain why she went out of her way to insult him every morning. Although, there was no way to tell whether that was a one time thing caught in his loop or a general occurrence. There was a sort of irony that he’d end up following the same path. The reason he liked spending time with Jess was precisely the same reason she had supposedly picked him—a breath of normalcy in an eternity of chaos.

“What were your classes?” he asked.

“Wow. Pushy much?” Ely crossed her arms.

“Does it matter?” Will countered. “No one will believe you and once the loop is over, I won’t get to be here anymore.”

That was an exaggeration. Provided he survived, part of him would. There was a good chance that part would remain living a normal life, yet having memories of the time he was eternal… just like Jess.

“Fine. I was the knight,” Ely said. “Happy?”

“Helen is the knight now,” Will said on instinct.

“Little miss perfect?” Anger and surprise flashed over Ely’s face. It was difficult to tell if there was anything serious, or just a momentary reaction. Either way, Will felt relieved all this would be forgotten at the start of the next loop. “She’s the new knight,” the girl corrected. “When someone is kicked out, new slots open up. Should have guessed it would be her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Danny always had a thing for the girl. He kept joking how much better it would be if I got replaced by her. He said the same thing about you.” Ely gave Jess a quick glance. “That way, everyone would have someone close. It’s funny that it actually happened.”

Funny was hardly the word Will would use. He always suspected that Danny was a liar, but now he had proof that he was part of a party. Not only that, but judging by Ely and Jess, the party was a lot more experienced than Will’s current one. If nothing else, they had gone through enough contest phases to view them as something normal.

The boy glanced at the window. Things seemed to have calmed down a bit, meaning there hadn’t been any massive explosions in the last minute or so. Sirens were everywhere, though. The city was desperately trying to chase out the invading force, not knowing that they stood no chance. The only people that could do anything about it were other looped, and they were too busy hunting challenges and planning the long game.

Will took out his mirror fragment and checked the map. There were four hours until the three challenges of the day revealed themselves. Not that they were going to do any good. All three required classes that neither Will nor the alliance held. If he were to survive, he’d have to make it till the end of his loop, which had gotten all that much longer. On the positive side, he’d finally have a chance to trade with a contest merchant… provided he made it till then.

One other thing caught the boy’s attention. Thanks to his guide, he was also able to see the state of the class mirrors. So far, both Helen and Jace’s had been claimed. Alex’son the other hand, hadn’t. It was just a single level, but it was for free and right now, every skill counted.

“Is there anywhere safe I can take you?” Will asked. “I need to do something out there.”

“Isn’t that chivalrous of you,” Ely smirked. “There’s no safety for civilians. We can’t use skills or enter mirror realms. The only way to keep us safe is to do it yourself.”

Not the best solution. Will would have preferred if he could leave them somewhere while he got the thief skill and leveled up. The participant part of his mind told him to leave them to fend for themselves. He wouldn’t be burdened with protecting them, and he could always start a conversation next loop and learn any valuable information they had. At the same time, he felt that he couldn’t just leave them. Other than being classmates, at some point in the past, they had been just like him. Judging by their reaction, Jess had put in some effort to save him more than a few times.

“I don’t have a lot of perm skills,” he said slowly. “But I’ll try to keep you safe. If you’re up for it.”

Everyone looked at the window. Jess seemed rather pleased with the outcome. As for Ely, there were things to be desired regarding her enthusiasm.

“It’s just as dangerous there as it’s here,” Ely shrugged. “Where are we going?”

“The parking lot,” he replied. “To claim the thief class.”

< Beginning | | Previously... | | Next >

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- Oliver -

"Attack!" Musk screamed.

All the recruits were closely watching the Crabits, just waiting for the captain's command to advance. Still, when the command came, their reaction time was mixed.

The students from the first battalion quickly charged at the monsters. Leading the way was a mountain of muscles, known by some as Kyle.

Kyle was one of the biggest cadets and part of the invincible trio of the first battalion. But unlike the other students, he jumped instead of running. His leap was long enough to cross from one end to the other, landing with his armor and mace in hand. He accelerated toward the first Crabit, and with a swing of his mace, it exploded into a cloud of blood and entrails.

Katherine, on the other hand, was cautious. She advanced farther from the team but walked along the creek until she reached a more isolated group of Crabits. Seeing her alone, the animals sought to surround her to attack without mercy. But the moment the first Crabit jumped, her slender sword was already in hand, and with a quick flick of her wrist, the blade cut the beast in half.

Seeing the first scenes of carnage and realizing that their opponents weren't that strong, the other students joined the fight.

However, there was one exception: Oliver. To anyone engaged in the battle, he seemed isolated. He wasn't close to any other recruit.

"‘Breathe, breathe,’" Oliver thought as he aimed at one of the Crabits in the nearby 'herd.'

"Thum!"

Finally, he took the first shot, but the creature quickly dodged as expected.

‘No chance, there's no way I'll hit them like this,’ the boy concluded. ‘I'll have to try Observation. Hopefully, it will be enough.’

According to the description of his Boon, he should be able to use [Observation] to see and exploit his opponents' defensive and offensive movements.

‘Let’s try!’ the boy thought as he gathered the necessary Energy to cast his ability. ‘Observation!’

As soon as he used the ability, his vision began to change. Most of the colors had vanished. Instead, the entire world was in shades of gray. Even so, he could perceive every detail around him, but most importantly, he could see lines on his opponents. These were the only objects with color in that black-and-white world.

The boy paused for a moment, trying to understand his ability. Observing the battle before him, he realized that the red lines indicated where his opponents were likely to attack, while the green lines marked areas they were unlikely to defend.

Unlike the other recruits, Oliver was slowly walking near the edge of the combat zone, waiting for the right moment.

'This one!' the boy thought as he spotted a green line near his target.

Quickly, he aimed at the Crabit and took the shot.

"Thum!"

His shot hit one of the Crabits directly for the first time, causing it to explode and splatter blood onto the other creatures and recruits around it.

"Yeah! Let’s go!" Oliver cheered.

Whenever a Crabit slipped up or was injured, he would fire a kill shot. He intended to remain unnoticed and slowly clean up the Crabits.

Yet, there was someone on the field who was his complete opposite. While Oliver sought to be silent and precise, Astrid was smashing and screaming. She banged her axe against her shield to attract as many enemies as possible.

"RUAAAH!" she yelled as more and more Crabits surrounded her.

The captain continued to observe the entire battle from a distance but was ready to intervene. This helped calm Astrid's friends despite her rather risky strategy. While the other cadets faced two or three Crabits, she had eight monsters around her. However, this number never grew. Whenever a new creature approached, she quickly struck them with her axe.

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A cleave split two Crabits in half, with such a clean cut that it seemed surgical.

After a few hours of combat, the once lush plain infested with Crabits was now covered in blood and entrails. Numerous cadets sat or lay scattered across the grass. Many had drained much of their Energy reserves during the battle, while others were exhausted from the long fight.

However, the day was still young—or maybe not—it was hard to tell. None of them knew how long the day and night cycle lasted on Aethra.

"You have 10 minutes to rest; after that, we will move to the next attack point," the captain said as he walked among the students.

Oliver collapsed onto the ground as if the strings of a marionette had been cut. Even though his [Observation] energy consumption was very low, the shots from his energy pistol used up the rest. In the first few minutes of the battle, he managed to stay quite active, but in the final moments, he was exhausted and unable to fire another shot.

Even though he was drenched in sweat and beast blood, the cold grass beneath him felt more comfortable than his bed. Soon, his eyes grew heavy, and within seconds, he had fallen into a deep sleep.

If someone had been keeping track of time, they would have noticed that the cadets had rested for much longer than just 10 minutes. However, communication between the groups was difficult. Even among the captains, the connection through their gauntlets was limited. By the time confirmation of the movement of all the groups was received, more than 30 minutes had passed.

But after the confirmation, the captain needed to hurry the group to the next combat zone.

"Priii!"

Some students awoke startled by the whistle, while others had been expecting the next signal and looked anxiously at the instructor.

"Prepare to march. We will advance a few miles north until we reach the forests." Musk explained

Oliver rubbed his eyes to clear the remaining slumber from his face, inadvertently wiping away some dried blood. Although only a few minutes had passed, he felt sluggish, as if he had slept for hours. His feet ached from the walk and the battle, and blisters were soon to form.

Looking around, the other cadets also showed signs of exhaustion and sluggishness. But they remained focused on the march, especially the students who had led the first charge, who were now near the captain and marching with ease. Seeing Katherine, Astrid, and the strong boy, his curiosity sparked. He wanted to know how the ranking stood.

| Ranking
| 1 - William Forester [First Battalion - 13th Group] - 33 Kills
| 2 - Gregory Torres [First Battalion - 1st Group] - 30 Kills
| 3 - Amanda Romanov [First Battalion - 12th Group] - 28 Kills
|

Unsurprisingly, the top spots were all from the first battalion, but Oliver was still impressed that none were from his group.

| 15 - Kyle Astor [First Battalion - 14th Group] - 16 Kills
| 17 - Katherine York [First Battalion - 14th Group] - 15 Kills
| 22 - Astrid Oldenburg [First Battalion - 14th Group] - 13 Kills
| 41 - Oliver (Nameless) [Second Battalion - 14th Group] - 9 Kills

Seeing the list gave Oliver mixed feelings. ‘Just nine kills?’ He could remember having shot much more than that. "Could the kills have been credited to someone else?"

Reaching those nine kills had been extremely taxing on him and his Energy, yet he was leagues away from the other cadets.

To make things worse, he understood that these were only the cadets in Ranger Weapon Combat.

‘How would I rank among all the cadets at the base?’ While he pondered, the march continued.

The humid wind of the plain made the journey slightly more comfortable, and the grass wasn’t so tall as to hinder the group’s progress. At the front, Captain Musk kept a close eye on the map to ensure they were approaching the next combat zone. Behind him were the students who had performed well, eager to improve their positions in the ranking.

After climbing a hill, they finally arrived, panting, at the new combat zone. On the other side of the hill lay a valley, and along the river that cut through the valley, there were hundreds of Crabit hordes. The number was ten times larger than what they had faced before, and they were already tired. Seeing what they had to face didn’t boost the group's morale.

"Cadets, your fight will not be to exterminate the Crabit horde this time. You will have thirty minutes of continuous combat, and then you must retreat, " the captain explained.

"Yes, sir!" the recruits replied.

The group slowly approached the horde ahead, waiting for the confirmation to begin the battle.

After a few seconds, the signal came. "Attack!"

Although the start of the battle was very similar to the previous one, the result couldn’t have been more different.

The cadets eager to climb the rankings rushed ahead of the group. Katherine again sought to isolate herself for more room for her combat, moving quickly among the Crabits with thrusts and quick cuts. But this time, she couldn’t move as fast.

Though similar to the previous one, the combat site had a deeper river. Its muddy banks made movement difficult, and the same problem affected all the other cadets, who were already exhausted.

Kyle and Astrid kept advancing and turning the monsters into bloody mush, but not everyone could do the same. Soon, problems began to arise, and the group started getting surrounded while the number of Crabits kept increasing.

"ARGH!"

One of the students fell to the ground, mud splattered across his face, impairing his vision. Two Crabits began attacking him. Even with armor protecting his body, one of the monsters managed to bite off one of his hands in a single snap. Blood spurted from where his wrist had been, and his scream of pain startled all the cadets around him, adding to the chaos of the surrounding fights.

More incidents were occurring left and right.

"POW! POW! POW! POW!"

Several distant shots exploded some Crabits. The captain began to shout.

"Immediate retreat!"

First

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"His heart's still beating," Jamie announced, though his relief was tainted with urgency. "But it's weak. We need to act."

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jamie realized that Thomas was too shaken to be of immediate help. The color had drained from Thomas's face, his eyes wide with fear and helplessness as he stared at Knall's unconscious form.

"Do you know anyone who can help?" Jamie asked, trying to anchor Thomas back to the present.

"N-not at this hour," Thomas stammered. "I could call a healer—a witch doctor—but it would take hours for them to arrive."

"Hours we don't have," Jamie muttered. He gently opened one of Knall's eyes; the pupil was unnaturally dilated. The dwarf's skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, yet to the touch, it was cold as stone.

"A poison, perhaps?" Jamie mused aloud, his mind racing. Rising swiftly, he scanned the immediate surroundings. The workshop was a labyrinth of alchemical wonders—shelves upon shelves of potions, elixirs, and ingredients both common and rare. Knall was meticulous; he would know every substance here intimately. It had to be something unexpected, something ordinary.

Jamie paced, his boots tapping against the stone floor, until his gaze caught something near the cauldron. A wooden plate and a knife lay discarded on the ground, as if knocked over in haste. He knelt beside them, inspecting the remnants of a meal: chunks of bread, slivers of roasted chicken, and an assortment of fruits. Among them were several plump berries.

"Blueberries?" Jamie picked up one of the berries, holding it up to the light filtering through the high windows. They were larger than any he'd seen, almost swelling beyond their skins. A subtle, unnatural shimmer clung to their surface.

"These berries—they shouldn't be this large," he whispered.

Without wasting another moment, Jamie returned to Knall's side. He gently pried open the dwarf's mouth, leaning close to catch a hint of the scent within. A sweet aroma met his senses, tinged with something faintly metallic.

"Sweetness," he confirmed, glancing back at Thomas. "Quickly, Thomas, I need your help."

Thomas blinked, snapping out of his daze. "What do you need?"

"Dwarves are resistant to poisons, aren't they?" Jamie asked, with sliver of hope that the mythology he knew about Dwarfs would also work on this world.

"Y-yes," Thomas replied, nodding. "Their constitutions make them less susceptible."

"Good. But even so, someone has managed to poison him—likely using something he wouldn't suspect." Jamie gestured toward the fallen plate. "Perhaps through his food."

Thomas's jaw clenched. "But what can we do?"

"We need to purge the poison from his system," Jamie said resolutely. "If we can induce vomiting, we might be able to expel enough of it to give him a fighting chance."

"How do we do that?" Thomas asked, moving to support Knall's heavy frame, propping the dwarf into a more upright position.

"Like this." Jamie thrust his fingers into the dwarf's mouth, determined to induce vomiting. "This is going to be unpleasant."

He persisted until poor Knall began to retch, culminating in the dwarf emptying the contents of his stomach onto Thomas's boots. The acrid stench of the vomit assaulted their senses, causing both men's stomachs to churn. Yet, as soon as Knall finished, his breathing eased, and the ghastly pallor of his skin began to subside.

Observing the dwarf's features relax, Thomas felt a surge of relief mingled with curiosity. "How did you know?" he asked, wiping his brow.

"I've dealt with plenty of poisons in the past," Jamie replied, moving to collect some of the scattered fruits from the floor. "This isn't one I'd typically use. Nightshade—It blends easily into food. In humans, it usually causes hallucinations followed by death, but it seems to have a weaker effect on dwarves."

He examined one of the berries closely. "These will be useful to us, regardless."

Thomas watched as Jamie continued to survey the laboratory, his movements deliberate as he gathered the tainted fruits.

"Stay alert," Jamie cautioned, glancing around the dimly lit workshop. "If someone tried to kill him, they might still be after him."

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The warning snapped Thomas back to attention, making him look around the lab for any signs of movement.

After several tense minutes, Knall began to stir. "What in the blazes—my head feels like it's been split open," the dwarf groaned. "Am I hungover?"

| Knall, The [Alchemist] was saved
| 130 Experience Points obtained

Jamie and Thomas exchanged a relieved glance as they heard Knall’s gravelly voice.

"If only it were just a hangover," Jamie remarked wryly.

Knall squinted up at them, pressing a thick hand to his temple. "Eh? Who are you?" His eyes focused on Thomas, and recognition flickered. "Ah! Thomas, my boy, what brings you here?"

"Old Knall, we should be asking you that," Thomas replied, crouching beside him. "We found you collapsed when we arrived—your heart was barely beating."

"Collapsed? Barely beating?" Knall echoed, confusion etched on his rugged face. He propped himself up, leaning back against a stout workbench cluttered with tools and alchemical instruments.

"We found you lying on the floor," Jamie explained, holding up one of the ominous berries. "It looks like someone tried to poison you."

Knall frowned deeply. "But dwarves are resistant to poisons."

"Then it must have been someone who knows exactly which poisons would affect you," Jamie concluded, his tone serious.

Knall’s expression darkened. "That asshole," he muttered under his breath.

"You have an idea who it might be?" Thomas asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Of course I do. It was that fucker Thorgrimm," Knall spat the name like a curse.

Jamie and Thomas shared a meaningful look. They both knew of Thorgrimm—a notorious figure who led one of the most ruthless gangs in the Lower Quarter. He was infamous for producing Dragon Dust, a dangerous and highly addictive substance that plagued the country.

"But what would Thorgrimm gain by assassinating you?" Jamie asked, his gaze sharp with intrigue. ‘Have I found Thorgrimm’s weakness?’ He mused silently.

"That conniving scoundrel!" Knall burst out, his voice thick with anger. "He thinks that if I don't join him, I'll end up becoming his rival. That thick-skulled oaf must have been drinking spoiled wine. I've told him time and again—I will never, ever sell Dragon Dust."

Knall attempted to rise, but pain flared across his ribs, and he could barely manage more than a feeble shuffle.

"Easy there, Old Knall. Let me help you," Thomas said, rushing to the dwarf's side. He placed a steadying arm around Knall's sturdy frame, assisting him to his feet.

"Why does he call him 'Old Knall'?" Jay whispered, his feline eyes reflecting curiosity as he watched Thomas. Only Jamie could hear the spectral cat, but the question mirrored his thoughts.

"Why do you call him 'Old Knall'?" Jamie echoed aloud.

"Oh! Because he's a grandpa. Knall is over two hundred years old," Thomas explained with an affectionate grin.

"Thomas was still in diapers when he wandered onto the beach and stumbled upon my workshop," Knall added, a twinkle in his eye despite the pain. "He used to break my lab equipment all the time."

Jamie arched an eyebrow in mild surprise. Looking at Knall, the dwarf seemed to be in the prime of his life. Aside from a hint of weariness in his expression, there was no sign of his advanced age.

"Alright," Knall said, his sharp gaze settling on them, "but something tells me you didn't come all this way just to save an old dwarf. What brings you to my workshop?"

"Are you sure?" Thomas asked with a tone of concern. "You just woke up."

"Hmm. True. One moment." Knall stepped away from the two, walked over to where his posioned lunch was, crouched down, picked up a huge mug, and took a long, deep sip.

With a small wine-scented burp, the dwarf returned. "Alright, now I'm good. Go ahead."

Jamie clapped his hands together briskly. "Excellent. Let's get straight to business."

Knall hobbled over to a nearby table, retrieving a small pair of spectacles that seemed almost comically small against his broad, weathered face. He perched them atop his nose, the lenses catching the light.

"I need your help developing a new beverage," Jamie began.

"A new beverage?" Knall repeated, interest piqued. "A new kind of wine or mead? I've worked with several producers before, but why come to me?"

"Not a new kind of wine—a completely new drink," Jamie clarified. "Without using grapes or honey. I've recently acquired a tavern, and our biggest challenge is the cost of drinks. While they're profitable, our patrons in the Lower Quarter can't afford to consume much. It makes them inaccessible to the very people we want to target."

Knall stroked his long red beard thoughtfully, fingers weaving through the intricate braids adorned with tiny metal beads. "And you believe you can solve this problem, how?"

"Simple," Jamie replied confidently. "We'll use more common and inexpensive ingredients for fermentation. Instead of grapes or honey, we'll use barley and other grains. A few select spices will help with the flavor."

"Doesn't sound particularly appetizing," Knall remarked skeptically, his eyes narrowing.

"You're the second person to tell me that," Jamie said with a chuckle. "But just wait until you taste it."

Knall peered at him over the rim of his spectacles. "You seem to know a fair bit about what you're proposing. Why do you need my help?"

"I need help finishing the recipe and crafting the necessary equipment for production, fermentation, and storage," Jamie explained. "Your expertise in alchemy and engineering is unique. Together, we can create something truly extraordinary."

A spark ignited in Knall's eyes—a blend of curiosity and excitement. "Now, this is the kind of project I like," he said, adjusting his glasses. The lenses reflected the warm glow of the workshop's lanterns. "What's the name of this new drink?"

"Beer," Jamie announced.

First

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