《Gun Girl from Another World》


 Chapter 0 - Prologue

    Chapter 0


    Prologue


    I''m dreaming.


    I''m floating in the sky, nothing but blues and whites as far as the eye can see. I can barely even tell which direction is which because they''re all the same. I think I started laying down on my side, like I do in bed, but that changed so many times so quickly as I tried to orient myself that now my head could be pointing toward the ground for all I know.


    ... Not that there seems to be any ground to be had.


    Yeah, no, we''re filing that away in the back of the Not Thinking About It folder.


    Instead, I try different things. I try walking, but my feet don''t touch anything. I cycle through several different swimming styles. Dog paddle, backstroke, breaststroke, even the good ol'' frog kick.


    ... Honestly, I might be moving from that last one? It''s hard to tell. Certainly, nothing changes from the scenery.


    I finally give up with a sigh and position myself as if I were laying on my back, folding my hands behind my head and propping a knee up. If there is no up, down or sideways, it doesn''t really matter which section of the endless sky I stare into.


    The only thing I can do, apparently, is wait for something to change. I feel like I''ve been left in a waiting room for an appointment I don''t remember and nobody''s told me the doctor''s late.


    "Man, this has to be the most boring dream ever ..."


    As soon as I say that, something blue appears in my field of view.


    "Huh?"


    I "sit up" to try to get a closer look, but it moves with me. It''s hard to make out, though, since it''s blue against a blue sky. And it has something white in it in a sky full of clouds.


    ... Wait, is that some sort of text box?


    I move my gaze around so that the white is against a solid expanse of blue in the sky, then still have to squint to make the letters out.


    Wou-- -o- -ik- t- go -- -n ad---t--e?


    It''s giving me serious RPG vibes, but the kind of RPG that was made by an amateur who hadn''t considered the background they were using.


    "Uh, hey, if someone''s there, you mind checking your font color?" I ask, feeling a little silly addressing empty air. But it''s a dream, so who cares? It might even work.


    Sure enough, though the image hangs there for a long moment, it soon blinks, and suddenly has a boundary box so I can clearly see the edges, and the words inside change to a nice, solid black. I''m not sure, but I think the blue within the image even shifted a few shades darker for more contrast, too.


    "Oh, thanks," I say, since apparently somebody actually IS listening. "That''s much better."


    And it is. I can now clearly see what the text box - the similarity is even stronger now - says.


    <hr>


    Would you like to go on an adventure?


    <hr>


    It''s even followed by a carriage return and a blinking, rectangular cursor.


    I can''t help but smile, even as it feels lopsided on my face as I wonder if the little window might hold me hostage here until I agree.


    It doesn''t matter, though, as there''s no reason to find out.


    "Sure," I respond, that half grin still on my lips. "Sounds like fun."


    The box disappears and is replaced immediately by another identical box with different words.


    <hr>


    What is your race?


    <hr>


    "... Human?" I ask more than answer, bewildered by the funky little rectangle''s question. It''s a moment later that I consider it might not be asking what I think it is.


    Could it be asking if I want to be something else? Is it giving me a choice, not asking for clarification?


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Of course, there aren''t any other intelligent, civilized races on Earth, or at least not anymore. But our fiction is overflowing with them. I consider a few, wondering if they''re really options. Klingons, Elves, Time Lords, Dragons. I briefly imagine how I might look as a towering Gerudo or a shortstack little Gnome.


    Some of the options are so powerful that I can''t possibly imagine them being valid choices. Many others are simply redundant. What is really the difference between a Klingon and an Orc? A Romulan and a Drow? A Hobbit and a Gelfling?


    Well, okay, at least on that last one, I''d have wings, but the point remains. I probably don''t need to be super-specific and would just get the equivalent, whatever that may be. Like Tieflings and Deumans.


    But then, most of those had parallels on Earth once. Neanderthals were akin to Orcs, Floresiensis is literally called the Hobbit, and probably a dozen others. Homo sapiens beat them all. I don''t want to be speciesist, but that''s a pretty good track record. Besides, I don''t know how to be anything else, I''d probably just embarrass myself.


    Yeah, human''s definitely the way to go.


    As if it had been waiting for me to come to a decision, the box takes that moment to flit away again, another taking its place.


    <hr>


    What is your name?


    <hr>


    Kind of odd that one didn''t come first. Maybe it was in case I decided to change it if I picked a different race.


    "Remmi," I immediately answer. "Remmi Lee."


    A lot of people who aren''t nearly as funny as they think they are have often joked it''s short for Remington, but that''s just stupid. As far as I''ve ever known, it''s not short for anything at all. It''s just Remmi. I''m just Remmi. And I have no intention of changing that.


    <hr>


    Are you fit for long hikes, difficult terrain and other physically strenuous activities?


    <hr>


    Well, that one feels a little ruder. If you didn''t think I was, why am I here?


    I certainly don''t think of myself as unfit. I''m just coming into my mid-twenties, and played my fair share of sports in high school. I wasn''t necessarily fantastic. I paid for college on an academic scholarship, not an athletic one. But I''ve never been a couch potato.


    On the other hand, the fabled Graduation Boundary feels very real. I don''t think I''m really less fit, per se. In fact, if I had to fight myself from five, ten years ago, I''m pretty sure I''d kick Little Remmi''s butt. Long, physically demanding activity isn''t about strength, reach or skill, though. It''s about energy.


    I can take the stairs from my apartment, jog to the convenience store, jog back with a couple bags in tow and take the stairs back up the three floors to my apartment again. I''ve done it plenty of times. But I''m ready for a break and a cold drink by the end of it.


    When I was fifteen, though, my sister and I ran all over the countryside. All day long. We ran through the woods, climbed trees, climbed rocks, jumped off both, jumped in streams. Our summers were spent with nothing but a lunch box, drinks we put in the stream water to keep them cold, and a promise to be home by supper.


    Exhaustion just wasn''t a word in our vocabulary. Or at least we thought it meant nothing more than laying on our backs in the forest shade for a couple minutes before taking off again.


    The box surprises me when it vanishes despite me not yet settling on an answer. Again, another one appears, but this one isn''t asking for generic details. In fact, I find it a little ominous.


    <hr>


    What is power?


    <hr>


    I lean back to consider that. It almost seems like a question that''s more philosophical than useful. Like it''d be one of those stupid Greek parables. One guy says power is fire, because it cooks food, warms the house and drives away wild animals. Another says the spear is power, because it hunts the food, protects the house and drives away barbarians. Some sap says love, because some sap always says love.


    And then the guy making up the story, probably Socrates, rolls up and makes the supposedly profound statement that power is intellect, because it allows the man to control the fire, forge the spear and comprehend love. And everybody claps.


    But I already have intellect, and it''s recalling a different idiom.


    Power grows out of the barrel of a gun.


    It''s a rather crude, barbaric sentiment, but something about it rings true in me, especially now. As if I''m on to something. A lot of things could be powerful. In fact, every guy in that parable was right, each of those things could be a form of power. What they were debating was what was the greatest power.


    The box reminds me of RPGs, and in an RPG, the fire would be a mage, the spear would be a warrior, the love would be ... I dunno, a magical girl? Was there some Magical Girl Camp RPG?


    But mages are cringe, warriors are cliche, and love is a lame superpower. Intellect would probably be crafting, and that''s just cheesy.


    And ultimately, no magic power or cultivation technique could compare to the raw power of a modern firearm. Sure, a crafter type could probably make one eventually, but I already have a lovely piece a foot to my left in the real world, hidden in my nightstand. It''s fully loaded with a round chambered and the safety on, ready to ruin the day of anyone that thinks to ruin mine. I don''t need to reinvent it. I''d much rather skip to the part where I use it in snazzy gun-fu.


    Sure, a pistol isn''t the most powerful weapon humanity has created, but we''re not talking what an army could use. We''re talking individual power. Assuming my hunch about the box''s question is on the money, of course. Nothing has increased the power of an individual person more than firearms.


    Yeah, technically, a rifle or something would be stronger, but I don''t like lugging a big thing like that around. A pistol is nice and agile, frees up the other hand for something else, and has just always felt nicer in my hand.


    So that''s my answer. Power is a gun, and the skill and willingness to use it. It doesn''t matter who you are, how important you are, how old or fit you are. So long as you can lift that gun and point it at your problem, you are the most powerful person in the room.


    How did it go? One man with a gun can control a hundred men without one.


    I open my mouth and inhale to give my well thought out answer, but the question vanishes. One last box appears in its place.


    <hr>


    Calibration complete. Good luck, Hero!


    <hr>


    It ends with an honest to goodness thumbs up emoji.


    In my great philosophical wisdom, I stare at it like a brainless fool and utter the only suitable response.


    "... Whut."


    And then gravity suddenly remembers it exists and that nothing is actually holding me up. Like one of those Acme cartoons, I feel my stomach drop a half-breath before the rest of me follows.


    Instinctively, I''m trying swimming again, like that''s going to do anything but make me look a fool. The only direction I''m moving is very much down.


    ... Oh shit. There is ground. And it''s getting bigger every second. One little corner of my mind wonders just how high up I was that it was too small to see.


    The rest of me begins screaming with every fiber of my being.


    I''m lower than the clouds, then the mountains and the birds. I''m lower than the trees for just a flashpan''s worth of perception.


    And then everything goes black again.


    ��������|��Ů


    Gun Girl from Another World


    Isekai no J�� Sh��jo


    by Ninmast Nunyabiz

 Chapter 1 - Awakening

    Chapter 1


    Awakening


    It really was a dream.


    As awareness begins to return to me, there''s no sensation of impact or injury. The familiar fog of dreams rolls back from my consciousness as my mind moves through the slow process of jacking back into my physical body.


    My muscles begin to stir, sluggishly shifting and twitching without yet enough strength to actually move even a finger, like cogs that have only begun to receive power but have not yet built up enough force to turn the next one over.


    It may not yet be enough to move, but it''s enough to tell me something is wrong. The fibers within my limbs shift back and forth against something my brain tells me is hard and cold, not soft and wrapped in linen. It quickly determines this is outside its expected parameters and environmental awareness begins to spread through me at an accelerated rate.


    In short order, my brain informs me that my face is also pressed against the same hard, cold surface, cheek squashed against it so that my entire mouth is off-center from the rest of my face. The atmospheric data comes on its heels. The air is practically still, cold enough to be uncomfortable but not enough to be dangerous, and touching every inch of my skin that isn''t against the hard surface.


    The awareness reaches my logic centers and the feedback rapidly begins to connect to concepts.


    I''m naked, laying belly down, probably on tile. Not in my bed, wearing my sleeping t-shirt, curled up in a comforter. In other words, I''m not where I''m supposed to be if I''d gone to sleep normally.


    As drawn out as it all feels, I''ve probably only been awake for less than a dozen seconds.


    I begin to shift my body now, and my brain automatically suggests the most likely explanation to match the errant data, accompanied by possible causes and recommended courses of action.


    Did I fall asleep in the bathroom? I''m not in pain, so I didn''t slip and knock myself out. I don''t remember going drinking last night. In fact, I don''t actually remember a "last night." Maybe I did knock myself out. I should get to my bedroom, get some clothes, find my phone. It''ll have the time, reminders, maybe text messages to refresh my memory. If nothing else, I''ll be able to call for help if I need it.


    I pull my head off of the floor and begin to haul myself up, craning my neck to see.


    With my shoulders mere inches off of the floor, I freeze, every other thought thrown out of my mind.


    I see boots. More than one pair.


    In the next heartbeat, I''m wide awake as adrenaline floods my system. I get one leg under me, mind trying to assess the threat, eyes scanning for an escape route, and my arms covering myself all at the same time as contradicting but equally urgent concerns flood my mind.


    "Peace, young miss. You are in no danger."


    I whip toward the deep voice, my panic reaching me faster than the meaning of his words.


    He''s an old man, but not so old that the echoes of a powerful build have left him. His jaw is strong and clean-shaven despite his gray hair. He''s wrapped in a white robe that''s tied with a red rope half as thick as my wrist, and the cloth is embroidered with all sorts of symbols and designs that seem only decorative to me. On his head is a folded cap and in the hand he isn''t holding open toward me is a tall staff that shines like gold.


    Or at least I think it shines like gold, I''ve never actually seen gold with my own eyes before.


    There is a soldier to either side of him, standing so that they make a semi-circle around me. They''re wearing segmented armor that''s a deep blue that''s almost purple. Each one wears a helmet secured under his chin with a tied-off strip of cloth. They each hold a spear in their right hand, the butt resting against the ground, and a red tassel tied just under the head. What I''d guess is some sort of short blade is strapped to the small of their backs, again with that red tassel just below the guard. The belt holding it in place is a red rope, not unlike that of the old man except thinner and less pronounced.


    Just behind the old man and to his left is a young woman in a similar robe to him, though it''s less decorated, and instead of a red rope, is secured with a thick length of rose-colored cloth. She''s about my height and it takes me a moment to realize her ears are long and pointed. I can''t see her eyes because she''s looking down at the ground, the only one of the four not looking at me. It seems more like she''s expected to stand that way rather than something she''s doing out of embarrassment.


    ... I wish the rest had some sense of embarrassment.


    I toss my gaze recklessly around my immediate surroundings. A solid white marble floor etched with red symbols. Ivory pillars. Walls of dark wood. It all screams opulence so loudly I almost feel like I have to shut my eyes against it. It''s also nowhere I''ve ever seen in my life.


    "Where am I?" I demand. I''ll reprimand myself for the questions later. Turns out, cliche as they may be, I still need their answers. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"


    The soldiers and the young woman don''t move a muscle. They might as well be statues.


    The old man''s voice is steady and calm, as if this was all a perfectly normal situation. "You are in Fushiro, capitol of the Furinshao Empire. The imperial family stand witness over your arrival."


    He motions behind him and I only now notice three more figures at the far end of the room. A man and a woman sit on a raised platform that look like it was brought in for this.


    The man has a massive frame wrapped in a crimson robe trimmed with gold and tied with a gold belt thick enough to use for rigging. He wears his black hair long, with a little hat on his head that matches his robe, and an honest to goodness full on fu manchu.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The woman, who must be his wife, wears a violet robe also trimmed in gold with a gold cloth wrap, but she wears no hat and her hair is pulled up in buns to either side of her head, underneath gold strings dotted with green stones. These seem to parallel her husband''s set of necklaces, thick chains of gold and slabs of green stone that would make a rapper jealous.


    The third figure is a boy who stands beside them, with no chair provided. He wears a simpler robe and is barefoot, but still has a golden rope. I''d guess him about five or six, and his features take after his mother.


    The two adults have stern expressions on their faces, though it doesn''t really feel directed at me. The boy is staring wide-eyed at the whole proceedings, and I''m reminded the only thing protecting my dignity are my own limbs.


    "I am Sacred Genstai," the old man continues answering my question, having not actually paused in doing so, "Archpriest of the High Temple of the Ascended. I am in charge of the sacred ritual for summoning Heroes." Wow, he spent longer introducing himself than he did the imperial family. "You are one of those chosen by the Heavens and sent to us in answer to our pleas."


    The memory of the dream springs back to mind. Asking me if I want to go on an adventure.


    Is this all actually real?


    No, there''s something more pressing.


    "... Does being one of these Heroes get me any clothes?"


    The old man is unflappable. "Apologies, young miss. The ritual does not bring any dead matter with it. Only your body, cleansed and purified."


    Behind him, the young woman hands him what looks like a crystal ball without raising her head, and he takes it in his free hand as he continues. "If you can wait but a bit longer, we need only take the measure of your blessing, and then Sacred Yorin will take you to quarters where you will be provided with a meal and some basic attire."


    At the mention of food, I realize my stomach actually feels quite empty. In fact, I don''t feel like I have any food in me at all. No dead matter, he said. Did that include food I''d already eaten? Digested?


    While I''m processing the dietary implications of getting yanked across the multiverse, he holds the crystal ball up before me. Its dark center begins to glow with a blue light, and a familiar blue box opens before our eyes. It must face all of us, rather than being mirrored, because he can read it just fine even though it looks like it''s open in front of me.


    <hr>


    NAME: Remmi Lee


    RACE: Human


    AGE: 15


    LEVEL: 1


    CLASS: Gunslinger


    <hr>


    ... With a flash of embarrassment, I am suddenly struck with realization why the box in my dream didn''t wait for me to tell it if I was fit. I had been musing about how much energy I had when I was fifteen, and it must have taken that as a necessity.


    I resist the urge to look myself over. I could have a little identity crisis in the privacy of whatever room they give me. Standing stark naked in the middle of a room full of strangers is the wrong place for it.


    "Hrmm," the old priest observes. "Gunslinger?"


    The man in the crimson robe seems impatient, and he straightens up in his seat. "She has the blessing, then?"


    The old man turns and gives a bow of his head. "Yes, Lordship, she seems to. It''s not a class I''ve ever heard of, but it definitely is a class. The blessing is, as Your Lordship knows, the only way to acquire one without going through the temple."


    The large man nods and gives a dismissive wave of his hand. He stands, only then followed by his wife. "See her on her way, then. She will be reviewed with the rest tomorrow."


    The old priest bows again and the family leaves the chamber in single file, an air about them as if this is all something distant from them.


    Except the boy. He pauses in the doorway to stare at me again. I give him an uncomfortable smile for lack of any better idea, and he smiles back, but then his mother gets him by the ear and drags him out after them.


    Genstai - I''m pretty sure at this point Sacred is a title - steps aside and motions the young woman with the long ears toward me. "Sacred Yorin, if you will."


    She bows her head and steps toward me. She only then raises her head to smile at me, and her eyes are bluer than anything I''ve ever seen in my life. "Hero Remmi Lee, please come with me."


    I''m glad to get away from the old man and his soldiers, but once we''re off in a hallway by ourselves, there''s something I''m burning to ask.


    "Are there other heroes that were summoned?" It''s possible that Genstai''s talking was about different rituals, but the man in the crimson robe said I''d be reviewed with others.


    "Four others," Yorin nodded. "They awoke before you and had already left the Divine Hall. You will be able to meet them in the morning."


    "And I was just laying there that whole time, bare as a broomstick?!" I almost try to conceal my annoyance, but don''t quite make it.


    "Apologies, Hero," Yorin bows, flushing red. "We cannot be certain your energies have properly settled until you awaken. To disturb you, even by covering you, could have caused great damage. It is why even the soul orb is not turned upon you until then."


    She hesitates. "It is unusual for you to take so long to awaken, but it is also unusual to summon five heroes. It is possible the extra burden stressed you somehow we are not aware. Your level is certainly lower than it should be."


    We stop outside of a sliding wooden door that she opens for me, revealing a cozy, if small room. A bed is built into the floor, there''s a wardrobe against the wall, a washbasin across from the bed and a changing screen.


    "... Well, if I''m a gunslinger," I muse, "then I don''t imagine my level will matter very much. So long as I can get a gun to sling, anyway."


    That hesitation again. In fact, Yorin steps away from me, but covers it with a bow. "I am certain weapons will be provided for the Heroes at tomorrow''s review. Please rest well for today, I understand the ritual is quite exhausting. Someone will bring you food within the hour."


    And she''s gone before I can thank her for the escort.

 Chapter 2 - Morning

    Chapter 2


    Morning


    I stand in front of the full length mirror on the other side of the changing screen, turning this way and that before giving a tug on the robe I''m wearing. It''s a utilitarian blue-gray fabric with a black rope, but so is everything else in the wardrobe. Lots of different sizes, too, so they must have just stocked it with generic stuff without knowing what kind of heroes they''d get.


    This one only comes about three quarters of the way down my upper leg, and I''m pretty sure it''s supposed to be worn with pants, but those were scratchy and hung weird. The really long robes kept getting tangled up in my legs. I''ve never been against pants or skirts, but none of these did it for me for some reason.


    Without pants, I had to go up a size or two more than really fit me to get it this long. Snagging extra ropes from the other outfits let me tie things down so that I have black ropes around my upper arms and my wrists, and my torso is secured against any embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions like I''m wearing a shoulder holster. It''s surprisingly comfortable, a nice combination of secure and airy, but I''m pretty sure any bigger and I''ll just look ridiculous instead of creative.


    The girl in the mirror looks so young. I recognize my face there, but it''s been just shy of a decade since it looked like that. Even then, this face, this body seems more ... perfected. I don''t think I was ugly in high school, but I wouldn''t claim to have been significantly above average.


    This girl? This girl could have fit in with the cheerleaders. And I''m not even wearing any makeup.


    Still, every time I look in the mirror, it doesn''t feel real. Before coming here, my face had finally lost its baby fat and I looked like a grown woman. Now, with this face, I''d never need a fake ID, because nobody would believe it anyway.


    Fifteen. That''s what the box the old priest pulled up said. Well, at least I doubt I''ll be prone to acting like I did the first time I was that age.


    I turn to look out the room''s window. It''s the only window the room has, but it''s large and faces a garden of flowers, trees and ornamental bushes that''s awash in morning light. There''s heavy blinds that I could have pulled to block out the light or to keep others from looking in, but I''m as decent as I''m going to get and it feels right to have daylight coming in.


    I''m honestly a little surprised I''m as awake and ready to go as I am. Turns out, I arrived, or at least woke up, yesterday afternoon, but Yorin wasn''t kidding about how exhausted I''d be.


    The servant that brought me food wheeled in a tray loaded with more than I''d eat across five meals, but once I started eating, I couldn''t stop. I shoveled in meats and gravy and starches and grains and fruits and vegetables so quickly that I hardly tasted it. I didn''t quite get through all of the food, but by the time my body stopped gorging itself, I had made my way through enough to be mortified.


    Rather than being shocked, when the servant returned, she told me that at least one hero had even asked for seconds before being sated.


    I didn''t even have time to worry about how to spend my evening. After eating like I''d spent my life starving, I barely crawled my way into the surprisingly comfortable bed before crashing like I''d ran a marathon for the last week straight.


    Whatever getting dragged here had done to me, though, stuffing my body with calories and sleeping like the dead had apparently been the cure, because I''d drifted awake bright and early, feeling ready to go.


    A knock at the door pulls my attention back its direction.


    "Hero Remmi Lee, are you up?"


    I step around the divider and open the door with a smile. "Good morning, Sacred Yorin, I am. What can I do for you?"


    The young elf woman - it occurs to me that I don''t actually know she''s an elf, I''m just assuming from the ears - tucks her hands back into her sleeves and smiles to me, not even commenting on my lack of pants.


    "First, how were your accommodations? Everything to your liking?"


    My smile turns up to a grin. "Considering all I ended up able to do yesterday was stuff my face and sleep, I hardly feel qualified to comment on anything else. Or even the food or the bed, for that matter. I''m not sure I really experienced either."


    She chuckles at that with an easy smile that''s more motherly than it looks like she should be able to pull off. "This was the first summoning I''ve had the honor to witness, but the side effects are well documented. Don''t worry, the worst of it is over now. If anything, you may find you need for less than you are accustomed. Of rest, anyway."


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    I can feel my face stretching in revulsion as I think back to that veritable mountain of food. "Oh, please don''t tell me I''m going to have to eat like that for the rest of my life!" Even with the metabolism of a fifteen year old, I doubt my waistline could handle it. And I have no reason to believe I''ll be staying fifteen forever, either.


    "Oh, no, not at all. Your appetite might be a little higher, that happens sometimes for extremely active classes, but yesterday was an outlier," she assures me. "That shouldn''t happen again. Well, except for powerful revival magic."


    That''s a relief and a half. Besides my waistline, I doubt my wallet could afford to feed me fifteen meals a day, either. My metaphorical wallet, of course, since it didn''t actually exist. Not that I have anything to put in it, anyway. I file away the little detail that this world has revival magic, though. That''s good to know. No reason not to be careful; as far as I know, it''s only for near death, not ex post facto.


    I nod in appreciation, then motion to her. "Your turn."


    She blinks. "My-? Oh!" Yorin gives a quick bow of her head. "A common room has been set aside for the Heroes, where breakfast will be served shortly. If you are interested in meeting your fellow Heroes before the royal review, this would be the ideal time to do so."


    "Sounds fun," I agree, and motion for her to lead the way.


    Apparently, we were all tucked away pretty close together, because the common room is just down the hall. I can already hear laughing and talking through the door before Yorin opens it and motions me in.


    And I''m barely through the door before a loud voice blares at me from halfway across the room.


    "Wow! Yellow hair! Your spirit must be something crazy!"


    The one without volume control is a man with red hair. It''s tall, like he combs it straight up and only the weight pulls the end back down into a droop. I can even see his widow''s peak. I''d place him at about eighteen or so at a guess, and a solid foot taller than me.


    Just the one sample of his voice tells me he was the one laughing.


    I pull a lock of my hair around in front of me just to check. No, it''s still the same color it was in the mirror, and I look back at him in confusion. "You mean blonde?"


    I''m not even entirely certain he heard me, since he keeps going as he gets closer to get a better look at me.


    "Blue eyes, too. Must be sky spirit! Sun and sky, right, Tash?"


    The girl he elbows to draw her into the conversation looks a little annoyed, but she and the other two heroes had already been drawn over to see the newcomer, so she can''t really get out of it.


    "For the third time, Leuke, it''s Tassim!"


    It has about as much impact on him as my question had. "Whatever. Take a look for yourself! Maybe she shoots sunbolts!"


    "She is right there, don''t be rude." Tassim sighs and takes a closer look at me anyway.


    I return the favor. She wears one of the long robes easily, and unlike Leuke''s, hers fully closes over her chest instead of leaving it half bare. Her hair is pitch black and her skin is an olive brown, but if I had to call her features anything, I''d say they were Caucasian. We exchange polite nods.


    "Your colors are certainly unique," she finally says. "Are they spirit related?"


    I shake my head. "Inherited. Have you really never seen a blonde before?"


    "I don''t think any of us even know what that word means, and now that we''re Heroes, Essence should be translating everything for us."


    This quiet voice isn''t Tassim, but another Hero. And this one, I do a double-take on. This girl is even shorter than me, and her incredibly long hair is just the cream side of pure white. Big, gray eyes look at me with doe-like timidity.


    But holy volleyballs, for someone who doesn''t come up to my chin, maybe it''s because all of her growth went to her tits. Getting a robe big enough to cover up as much as Tassim would have made the rest of her look like she was swimming in it, so the wide breadth of pale flesh only a few shades more melanated than her hair is probably unavoidable.


    Good to know I''m not the only one that''s going to need to find something different at the first opportunity, I guess.


    "Um ..." She blushes and offers a handshake. "I''m Seina."


    I realize I''m gawking and give an apologetic smile as I accept the handshake. "Remmi."


    Tassim comes up alongside me and guides me away from the door they''d practically pinned me against. She lowers her voice as she says, "We all did that," and pats me on the shoulders.


    Leuke, meanwhile, with all the subtlety of a trumpet and surely twice the volume, slaps the last Hero on the back. "Hey, but how about that? First group of heroes anyone''s ever heard of with five of us, and three of them are cute girls! You nervous yet, Benny? I know I am!"


    ... He doesn''t laugh like he''s nervous. He laughs like he''s the biggest, rowdiest, star quarterback-est frat boy in the room. Which, actually, he probably is.


    "... Benarou. Can''t you get anyone''s name right, or are you even trying?" The black-haired young man might be a year or two older than Leuke. He might be a little taller than him, too, if he wasn''t hunched from the impact, but he''s far leaner. He''s scowling at the redhead as he pushes his glasses back up after the blow nearly knocked them off of him.


    He''s not my type, but I knew plenty of girls in school he''d have appealed to. He has that serious, studious upperclassman look. Valedictorian, disciplinary committee and quiet rich boy all rolled into one.


    But then, with what becoming a Hero did for me, that could all be new to him and he''d been a scrawny beanpole before yesterday.


    I actually want to ask about his glasses. Our bodies are supposed to have been "cleansed and purified," according to the old priest. Standing in a room with so many beautiful people, all of whom just happen to be Heroes, has me convinced I can''t have been the only one to receive a face lift as part of the deal.


    So why would he still need glasses? And where did they come from? Did the temple provide them on request?


    Before I can do so, a bell rings and a number of servants start rolling in food carts.


    Little surprise Leuke the Bullhorn is the first to react.


    "Hey, the food''s here!" he cheers as he claps and rubs his hands together. "Great! I''m starving!"


    Suddenly, I suspect I know who ordered seconds yesterday.

 Chapter 3 - Status

    Chapter 3


    Status


    "Sho how many levelsh did shu gain from ''ecoming ah ''ero?"


    Apparently, Leuke has no qualms with making conversation with a full mouth, because he asks me this while he''s still chewing on a mountain of rice he just shoved in there.


    My own plate has a decent spread. I won''t feel bad if I don''t get around all of it, but I wanted to at least try a bit of everything. The temple had rolled out generous offerings of rice, fish, eggs, smoked meat, hot cereal of an unknown grain, a mixture of fresh fruits, only some I recognize, and a mild hot tea. They spread it out buffet style and we were encouraged to help ourselves.


    ... Leuke had done his level best to empty out every dish, to look at his plate.


    I push a yellow grape around on my plate for a moment as I both translate his mushmouth and consider my response. Becoming a Hero was supposed to come with a power boost? How would I even know?


    I decide to answer honestly. "Um, just one." It''s technically the truth. I had no level, now I''m level one.


    Tassim looks to me at that from the other side. Or maybe she''s watching Leuke nearly choke on his rice. Thankfully, he manages not to spray it all over me, but he guzzles a whole cup of steaming hot tea to wash his throat clear.


    He still has to cough a bit and he wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. "Really?!" he finally manages. "I gained ten! And a point gain boost!"


    He doesn''t sound mocking or bragging, more stunned that my own number isn''t comparable, but it''s enough to get Tassim scolding him again. She leans forward over her own plate to look past me.


    "Were you pulled from a barn, Leuke?! It''s rude to badger someone about their stats, you know! Almost as rude as it is to eat like a pig at a trough!"


    The redhead swallows the new mouthful he''d only just crammed in, and I''m pretty sure he''d only just started chewing it, too. His neck is nearly the same color as his hair at her words.


    "Besides," she continues, "as far as you know, she only gained one level because she was already higher than us!"


    At that, I can feel my own face going red. But if I''m really going to be fighting alongside these people, they deserve to know. It''s not something you want to find out in the middle of combat.


    "Ah, no, pretty sure I wasn''t," I say. "I didn''t have a class at all."


    Now Benarou and Seina stop eating, too. It''s Mr. Valedictorian that speaks first.


    "You were classless?" he asks, though he pushes his glasses up. "Well, I guess that makes sense with how young you are." Oh, right, I''m the youngest one here, probably. "Wealthier families get their children classes as young as twelve, I''ve heard, but that''d be the exception. As a positive, your family can reinvest what they were saving up for your ... coming of age present?"


    It''s plainly a guess, and I feel like he''s trying to get a read on my social status as much as he is trying to explain my words away. Clearly, classes through the temple are some kind of investment on par with a higher education. Earlier acquisition, and presumably a head start in leveling, is a perk and indication of higher standing.


    Tassim swats him across the back of his head. "That''s rude, too! We''re all Heroes here! That''s higher than any noble brat, and all of us on equal footing!"


    He flinches from the impact, but doesn''t rile. "... Apologies," he says, directing it to me. "I meant nothing by it, I was only curious."


    I give a nod of understanding, but have taken the opportunity to put that grape in my mouth. Chewing with my mouth shut is a good excuse not to answer. I have the sudden impression he would look down on me if I told him I''d never even known anyone else with a class before today.


    "Still, being chosen by the heavens as a Hero even without a class doesn''t happen often," Seina puts in with a touch of awe, "you must have been very impressive."


    I give an awkward laugh and rub the back of my head. "I''m afraid I don''t really have a frame of reference. But I have a good feeling about the class I did get, if I can find the gear for it."


    "A class granted by ascension ..." Even Leuke has forgotten his tower of food, turning to face the circle of conversation. The look in his eyes is like he''s barely resisting asking me for a spar. "It''s gotta be really powerful, right?"


    Tassim looks like she''s trying to decide if that question qualifies as another rude one, but is weighing it against her own curiosity. Even Benarou and Seina can''t keep similar expressions off of their faces.


    "I think so," I nod after only a moment of hesitation. "I have no way of knowing if it''s particularly rare, though. Have any of you ever heard of a Gunslinger?"


    It''s easy for me to picture what such a class might entail, of course. A desperado coming out of a dusty saloon with a quick draw technique to put a samurai to shame. A dual wielding martial artist and his gun katas predicting enemy locations in the dark. A cyberpunk runner in a black trenchcoat and wraparound shades reflecting the neon lights subtly slipping a hand to her hip when gang toughs surround her.


    My culture had no lack of ideas on Gunslingers.


    Nobody else can apparently say the same. They all get confused frowns and their eyes unfocus as they search their memories.


    "That''s the second time you''ve used a word that the Essence didn''t translate," Seina finally mentions. "You must be from very far away. What is a gun?"


    I find myself unable to answer her. My face is slack and my jaw won''t listen to me. A sinking dread begins to fill me.


    They don''t know what a gun is. None of them do.


    But if guns don''t exist here, does that mean my class is useless?


    When my voice finally comes out of my throat, all I can say is, "Oh, that''s bad."


    Despite the lack of explanation, the other Heroes seem to grasp quickly enough why that''s bad, though none of them seem to know what to do or say about it.


    Finally, Benarou stands. "Forgiveness, Remmi, but would you mind if I used Identify on you to view your status for myself? Perhaps we could offer more insight that way."


    "Identify?" I ask. "Is that some sort of spell? Like what the priest used with the whatchamacallit ..." I snap my fingers before coming up with the words. "The soul orb?"


    "It is the spell the soul orb reproduces," he confirms. "Though it uses it only at a basic level. It is not a complex spell, but neither is it taught. Normally, artifacts like the soul orb are the only way to use it. Except for Heroes. I purchased it this morning."


    The other three are nodding at that. "We all probably should," Tassim mentions. "Even a single rank would be a boon."


    She turns to Benarou. "But then you might as well just ask her to show us her status directly, so why even bring it up?"


    "Stealth bragging," I immediately guess with a smirk, and he reddens as if caught. "Well, I don''t mind sharing, but somebody''s going to have to tell me how to do that."


    "Oh, right, no class," Leuke puts in. "You''d never have done it before. It''s really easy, you just will it open. A lot of people like to make a motion as they do it, like this."


    He makes an arcing swipe with his fingertips in the air in front of him, but nothing happens. His eyes focus like he''s looking at something in front of him, but the air there is empty.


    "After that, another push of will to show it, again often with a gesture to help you focus."


    He makes a motion like he''s flipping something around with his fingers, and suddenly the blue box is back.


    <hr>


    NAME: Leuke Flamvel


    RACE: Human


    AGE: 18


    LEVEL: 30


    CLASS: Swordmaster


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    HP: 540/540


    MP: 25/25


    ST: 160/160


    STRENGTH: 150


    TOUGHNESS: 120


    INTELLECT: 25


    AGILITY: 80


    POINTS: 1,256


    TRAITS:


    Hero


    Knight-Errant


    <hr>


    Behind me, Tassim lets out a long whistle. "Shiny muscles there, beefcake."


    And behind her, I only just catch Benarou mutter, "Brains are about right ..."


    I''m sure Leuke heard that, too, but it washes off of him like everything else. "And there you have it, Rem! That''s how you work a status screen!"


    I glance back in time to see Tassim''s eye twitch at the nickname, but it doesn''t bother me. I take a step so they''re all in front of me. "Alright, let''s give it a try."


    I swipe like I''m waking up a tablet and forcefully think, Status.


    I''m actually surprised when it pops up immediately. I thought I''d have to make several attempts. In fact, it kind of feels like I pushed harder than I even needed.


    <hr>


    NAME: Remmi Lee


    RACE: Human (Outsider)


    AGE: 15 (24)


    LEVEL: 1


    CLASS: Gunslinger


    HP: 60/60


    MP: 120/120


    ST: 120/120


    STRENGTH: 10


    TOUGHNESS: 20


    INTELLECT: 120


    AGILITY: 60


    POINTS: 0


    TRAITS:


    Hero


    Gun Nut


    <hr>


    When I flip it around, Benarou immediately spit-takes his tea.


    "You okay, there, Benny?" Leuke asks in concern.


    The dark-haired man coughs for a moment before he can answer. "What''s with that ridiculous Intellect?! No level one has a stat in the triple digits! I''m level 27, and it''s nearly as high as mine!"


    Tassim''s rubbing her chin, though. "Those definitely look like mage stats, to be sure. Gutter physical stats, high Intellect."


    "Except for that Agility," Leuke puts in, surprisingly helpful. But then, I can absolutely see him as a swole gym bro, which would put physical evaluation in his wheelhouse. "She''s gonna be fast on her feet if she keeps that kind of spread."


    "Far faster than a level one should be," Tassim agrees. "In fact, it''s only her Strength and Toughness that are remotely appropriate for her level."


    "Maybe I''m getting a boost for being a Hero?" I suggest.


    But Tassim shakes her head. "Levels are a composite score, not something static. Our levels went up when we were summoned because we got a stat boost. Your level shouldn''t still be a one. Those are stats a level ten mage would be proud of. Fifteen, maybe."


    Leuke bends down so he is level with me. "... Are you sure you can''t cast sunbolts?"


    "Positive," I confirm. "I know what a Gunslinger is, unless this thing''s using some insanely different definition. Even if it does, nobody where I come from uses magic in the first place, so there''s no way I could have learned it before now."


    Whoops, maybe I shouldn''t have been so quick to say that. They''re all giving me weird looks again.


    "Nobody uses magic?" Seina is the first to ask. "How do you ... survive?"


    I blink as I try to process that question and the implications behind that. Before I can find words to answer her with, though, Benarou jumps in.


    "I suspect it has to do with her race," he suggests, and everyone''s eyes go back to it.


    Unlike when Genstai checked it with the soul orb, here, it doesn''t just say I''m a Human.


    "What kind of subrace is Outsider?" Tassim muses. "I''ve never even heard of humans having subraces."


    "I don''t think it''s a subrace, exactly," Benarou replies. "It''s an origin point. I think she was summoned from outside the Essence System. That would explain the odd words that can''t be translated. She possesses knowledge of concepts we simply do not because they don''t exist here, so there''s nothing to translate them to. It would also explain the impossibility of having zero points. That would mean that she''s never experienced anything noteworthy in all of her life ... unless the Essence never witnessed any of it before yesterday."


    "Oh!" Tassim pops her fist into her palm as it clicks for her. "That would explain her level, too! If these are normal stats for her people, then she''d still be level one even with them! Especially if that monstrous Intellect stat isn''t counting as highly for a martial class."


    "I admit I''m disturbed by the idea that could be normal for anyone," Benarou agrees, "but it could just mean they have a widespread institutionalized education. Intellect isn''t just raw intelligence, after all. The same could go for her age. It''s possible that her people live longer or age slower, so 24 for them is still equivalent to a 15 year old here."


    ... Yeah, I''m not touching that one.


    "We do have that education," I focus on instead. "For about a dozen years before we''re considered adults. More if we''re going into a specialized field. I couldn''t tell you how it compares to what you guys get, though."


    "I didn''t learn to read until I was fifteen!" Leuke sounds far more like he''s proud of that than as if it were some mark against him. "Learned my letters when I joined up with the city guard!"


    "That''s ... a little later than the standard," Benarou provides, "but common enough for the poor or very rural. Most will learn to read by twelve, nobles by eight."


    I blink. "We''re learning to read by four."


    "Numbers?"


    "Same time."


    "... What do you spend the rest of all that time learning?" Seina asks in that quiet voice of hers.


    And I blink again, realizing the kind of gulf I''m dealing with. "Everything else."

 Chapter 4 - Perspectives

    Chapter 4


    Perspectives


    *Leuke*


    Oh man, this is going to be great!


    The world has five new Heroes! FIVE! And I''m one of them!


    Captain''s gonna be so surprised!


    ... Oh, shoot, wait, no, Captain''s gonna be pissed! I was supposed to be on the wall last night!


    Oh well, it''s not like it''s my fault. It''ll be fine. She''ll understand.


    ... I''m so dead.


    I suppress the urge to gulp and turn toward the others. We''re all wearing the same blue-gray robes. I can''t wait to get into some proper armor again, but at least we look like part of a unit.


    And everyone looks super strong! Benny''s a spellcaster and really smart. I''ll bet I can count on him to know all sorts of useful things. And Tash gives me feelings of danger. Normally, that''d just make me want to spar with her, but down in my gut, I feel like that''d end with a dagger in the back, and I always trust my gut.


    Fortunately, she also has this really strong Big Sister feeling to her, like I can really count on her support. A lot like Captain, actually. I bet they''d get along.


    ... They''d probably also put me to work twice as much.


    Then there''s Sei. I, uh ... I don''t really know what to make of her. She doesn''t seem shy about standing around us or afraid of doing Hero stuff, but I just don''t get a Warrior Spirit sense from her. Maybe she''s some sort of caster, too? She seemed to understand what Benny was talking about with all that outside the essence stuff pretty well.


    But then, so did everyone else, come to think of it. Maybe it was just me that couldn''t keep up.


    Rem, though, wow, she''s gonna be something. I just know it. The brains of a caster and the spirit of a warrior. And at level one, she had Benny spitting tea! That was hilarious! I thought he was choking at first, but he was fine!


    Pity about her weapon. I don''t know what I''d do if I was told I could never have a sword in my hand again. Probably just pick up a big club, but it wouldn''t be the same.


    I deliberately put an extra pep in my step. Like everything else, I refuse to let this get me down. We''re Heroes! It''s a problem we can solve, because there''s no such thing as a problem Heroes can''t solve! We''ll find one of these guns, or find someone who can make one, and that''ll be that!


    *Tassim*


    That idiot is grinning like ... well, an idiot.


    I spend a moment wondering if his lack of Intellect might be contagious somehow, disappointed in my turn of phrase, but I resist the urge to check my status.


    He means well, I''m sure. As annoying as he can be, I''ve spent my life in places where malice is so thick that you can taste it in the air. I can say with absolute certainty that there''s not a drop of it in him.


    He''s like a child. In both the good and the bad ways.


    He''ll be an ideal Hero, no doubt. Strong, pure, driven by his convictions and principles. The Heavens chose well with him.


    ... No clue what they saw in me.


    To my credit, when I first woke up in that temple and realized I''d been uplifted, not a single thought in my mind went to what unimaginable wealth I could steal with the power of a Hero.


    ... Because I was too busy thinking of all the revenge I''d be able to take.


    Being around the other Heroes this morning was like a cleansing rain to my heart. They''re all such good people.


    I want to protect them. And maybe I can learn to follow their example.


    *Seina*


    I''m scared silly, but I do my best not to show it.


    Maybe scared isn''t the right word. It''s just a review, I''m not actually in any danger.


    Nervous, that''s the right word. Yes, I''m nervous silly.


    I toss aside how stupid that sounds as I try to keep pace with the other Heroes. The boys in particular have such long strides that the entire group is a step faster than I''m really comfortable maintaining.


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    Even the level one girl looks like she''s keeping up better. But then, it''s not like we''re actually moving down the corridors quickly. I''m just short.


    It''s the problem a child has in keeping up with adults.


    No, that thought gets shoved aside, too. Down that path lies bitterness and self-pity. I''m a Hero now, and by the grace of the Heavens, I will act like it!


    ... It''s probably a combat trial. That''s what it''s going to be, isn''t it? Oh golly, there''s going to be fighting ...


    I toss that thought with the others, then soon after it, the thought about how big that pile''s getting.


    I''m good enough with a mace or hammer, and maybe they''ll give me a shield, too. Yeah, that would help a lot. Just no armor. It never fits well and is always too tight in all the wrong places.


    And hey, if anyone does get hurt, well ... that''s exactly why I''m here, right?


    My gaze slips to Remmi, though I doubt she notices. She''s going to stick out so much with that golden hair. And from somewhere outside of the World Essence, too. I hadn''t even thought such a thing was possible.


    It suddenly occurs to me she''s only wearing a torso wrap without leggings. Surely she understands the concept of pants, right? Oh gosh, and I can''t mention it. If I do, I''m either going to sound like an idiot or I''m going to embarrass her ...


    No, she must understand it. After all, she did the same thing I did and went as high in size as she could. Except she was covering thighs instead of ... well ... T-the ropes are a pretty neat look, anyway.


    It probably has to do with her class. The instinctive recognition of incompatible clothing makes trying to wear something that would hinder you uncomfortable. If she can''t wear the baggy pants or the longer robes we were provided with, this really may be the best she could do with what she had.


    My mind goes back to her 60 health. If it really is a combat trial, she''s going to be the most in danger of getting hurt. That redheaded mountain will probably be fine if they hit him with a ballista, but she could go down from a bad stab wound.


    I''ll have to make sure I''m ready to support her.


    *Benarou*


    My mind is still reeling from what I''ve learned. It wants to quit and shut down, like an overfed glutton ready to sleep it all off.


    I refuse and push it on. I need to make sure I understand it all.


    I''m accustomed to being the smartest person in most any room. I''m not being vain, either. My parents were disappointed when I refused our family''s traditional role as diplomats, but they supported my quest toward magic all the same. I received the best tutors money and station could acquire, and I burned through them like a wildfire.


    The day I became a battlemage and I could finally see all of that hard work as an actual, quantifiable number, I was praised as a genius and a prodigy for how high my Intellect was.


    It wasn''t half of Remmi''s, and she isn''t even a caster.


    I had pestered her with as many questions about her education as Leuke did about her weapon, maybe more. The worst part is that she doesn''t know enough of what''s normal in this world to lie, so I have to assume every answer was true to the best of her ability.


    Otherwise, I''d have never believed a word of it.


    From her appearance and behavior, I had first guessed she was a minor noble and thanked the Heavens she seemed to be of the rare humble variety. I had more than my fill of the more common haughty variant back home. Commoners, at least, don''t tend to judge you unless you go around with your nose up in the air.


    When she said she had been classless, I immediately changed my estimation to a middle class merchant family, but I pushed my luck too far in asking so blatantly. My mother would have slapped my knuckles with a ruler for such a rookie mistake, even as a grown man.


    But no, this yellow-haired foreigner is no merchant, nor artificer, nor alchemist, nor any other such respected field. She''s all of them.


    Or could be.


    According to her description of her people''s education system, she would actually still be a student, yet she already has the training to walk into any master''s place of business and demand to be named their top apprentice.


    Every child in her culture is taught far more than just letters and numbers. They learn mathematics that would put a merchant to shame, literature that would put a noble to shame, natural sciences that would put an alchemist to shame. And, yes, though it pains me to admit it, world history and politics that would put a diplomat to shame. Even her understanding of anatomy would flummox a healer.


    Within moments of Leuke''s questioning, she''d shown even a comprehension of engineering that weaponsmiths would kill their firstborn for. With a simple ease and in short order, she was able to describe for us the design and mechanics of one of these guns.


    All I can say is that her people''s skill for artifice is terrifying. What she described was beautiful in its simplicity, nightmarish in its implied capacity, and utterly impossible for anyone but a master to reproduce.


    And then she turned around and asked him what alloy his sword would be made of. Alloy. Like she expected the concept of blends and carbon content to be common knowledge. Of course, the poor fool couldn''t answer, and I had to step in to do it for him.


    The next line of questioning, of course, had to be how they afforded such a system. The whole reason so few people learn more than the absolute basics is because there''s no time. Education is a luxury because it''s expensive and offers so little direct benefit to the common man.


    Given the choice between working the field to raise food so you can actually eat and spending money you don''t have on tutors that aren''t there for knowledge that won''t feed you, the outcome is obvious.


    I should have expected it, but the answer came back to their terrifying skill at artifice. They built constructs that worked the fields for them. One man could thus run an entire plantation by himself and still have time for recreational pursuits.


    Of course, they applied this solution to everything else, as well. They employ no lamp-lighters, no street sweepers, not even any criers. Everything is handled, more or less, by their constructs.


    Their clothes are made and washed by constructs. Large portions of their meals are prepared by constructs. They replaced horses with constructs. Long distance communication was solved by constructs. They chart the paths of the heavens with constructs. They even use constructs to make their constructs!


    The result is that everything that once was expensive has become incredibly cheap. Commoners live in mansions and eat like kings. Thanks to mass production, even the constructs, themselves, are easily affordable.


    Virtually every home has independent control over its own interior temperature, hot water on demand, servant constructs for washing clothes and dishes and cleaning floors, food preservation constructs and multiple means of long-distance communication, usually for simple entertainment.


    Wherever she came from, I want to see it with my own eyes. It sounds like a fairy tale.


    ... And all of that free knowledge makes my brain feel like an empty stomach all over again.

 Chapter 5 - Artifact

    Chapter 5


    Artifact


    *Yorin*


    I''m standing before the empress of half a continent.


    I could certainly be accused of overstepping my station. The privilege and respect necessary to approach the scepter of the empire unsolicited is usually reserved for no less than the High Priest. That I came here myself instead of going through Sacred Genstai could certainly be described as usurping his seniority.


    ... Nevermind that my level is far higher than his, and despite appearances (I know I barely look any older than the newly summoned heroes), he doesn''t really have that much seniority on me, either.


    Even the High Priest would consider the weight of his own life very carefully if he were intending to tell the Emperor''s wife that her husband is wrong.


    But I''ve known Xuhi for most of her life. I trained her. This is hardly the first time we''ve had this kind of conversation. Once upon a time, we even had one about her husband.


    I still don''t skip the honorifics. Admittedly, more for the possibility of someone overhearing than for its own sake.


    "Empress, we must take the opportunity of the review to return the heavenly artifact," I say for what feels like the third time.


    "Return it to whom?" In another decade, she''ll look old enough to be my mother, and as she sighs under the weight of the crown, it seems like it might come even sooner. "There are five heroes, Yorin. How are we supposed to say for certain who it should go to? If any of them? You know even better than I do that no personal belongings ever come through with a hero when they are summoned."


    "No," I immediately contradict, "what we know is that it hasn''t happened before now. What are the Heavens to do if a Hero''s class would be worthless for lack of necessary equipment? Why send us a fifth if she won''t be needed, and if she''s needed, why cripple her before she even arrives?"


    Xuhitana turns away from me, unwilling to look me in the face. When she was younger, she did it because she knew she''d let me down and I was about to find out. I find myself wishing the cause were as simple as skipping out on her spell practice.


    "Yorin, the nobles and clergy have been talking," she finally says, her voice quiet as if it is too ashamed to come out of her throat. "They''re saying that there''s always four heroes. I don''t blame this girl, this Remmi Lee. But there''s a lot of them convinced that the only reason for a fifth hero with a strange class, and only a level one at that, is that it''s a plot."


    "A lot of people will say a lot of things, Xuhi," I reply, dropping even the honorific for the seriousness of the situation. "And a lot of wrong people will say a great deal more. The Essence is not so easily diverted from Heaven''s will."


    She sighs again, this time more in agitation. "I know that," she insists. "But it is far too easy for them to find it plausible when it is a convenient excuse to examine such an artifact. Heavenly artifacts are rare, Yorin, and ones that are pristine weapons exponentially moreso. Even Kouga is drooling at the prospect like it might make the Heroes, themselves, obsolete."


    I lean back a bit at the mention of the emperor. "Is he unmoving on the matter?"


    But Xuhi shakes her head. "No. He is an honorable man. If it can be shown to be meant for the Heroes, he will release it. It won''t happen without backlash, though. I don''t know how word of the artifact got out so quickly, but they won''t be happy if he gives it up."


    "The Heroes were talking about a gun at breakfast," I lock in on the opening. "What it is, how it works. Sacred Genstai removed the heavenly artifact before any of the Heroes awoke, but I tell you truly, she described it so clearly it could be nothing else. The Heavenly Artifact is the property of Hero Remmi Lee. It is her gun."


    Finally, she turns back to face me, looks me in the eyes. "I know." This time, when her eyes lower, it''s not to hide. It''s the weight of that crown, and it pushes out another sigh. "If it were my decision alone to make, I would heed your wisdom at once, damn the nobles. The Heavens know the last decade hasn''t done anything to increase my love for them."


    I nod in understanding. "But the Emperor?"


    Xuhi nods, too. "My husband requires more than mere words. He will need to see it with his own eyes." Guilt glazes her own. "That poor girl already has an ax over her head, and she''s not even had the chance to do anything yet. The minister was so proud of himself when he said the Heroes'' equipment was ready that the old urge nearly made me punch him. I''m sure they''ve already set her up to fail."


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    I intuit the part she''s not saying. After all, even in private, it is considered incredibly inappropriate to talk down another''s status. "With her at level one and unequipped, they will not have to try very hard to do so."


    She stiffens her lip at that and inhales deeply, reconstructing the visage of the powerful empress as she exhales.


    "Walk with me, Sacred Yorin. The reviews will begin soon."


    Yes, wherever the coins may fall, they are out of our hands now. I adjust myself, as well, and bow to my empress, ready to follow her lead.


    *Remmi*


    I kinda expected a big coliseum full of cheering citizens, with us coming out of a long tunnel under the seats like a football team. In retrospect, gathering in the imperial courtyard before a bunch of nobles like we''re an investment opportunity makes a lot more sense. Much more depressing, but a lot more sense.


    I blame Hollywood.


    Yorin and Genstai are standing next to the seated imperials, the old man next to Mister Manchu and the elf beside his wife. The couple have bone-grindingly serious expressions on their faces, but Yorin has her head down again and Genstai has the down-the-nose expression of a judge. Perhaps a master of ceremony would be more appropriate.


    With a bit of surprise, I realize the boy, presumably the prince, isn''t there this time.


    There''s a skinny, young dandy off to the side of the imperials that radiates self-pride. He stands like he''s trying to pop the button off his shirt, which would be a waste since I swear he must''ve polished it three times over. Fortunately for the button, he''s about fifty pounds shy of actually pulling it off. Behind him are two guards with purple rope belts and a line of fancy-looking boxes.


    All the rest of the crowd are clusters of men wrapped in expensive-looking silks and surrounded by busy-looking yes-men and the occasional female arm trophy.


    It''s easy to tell who the important people are, because they''re all watching us with hawkish eyes. It makes me feel like a slab of meat up for auction. Which, as far as I know, might as well be the case. If they really are here for investment opportunities, they might intend to bid to be our sponsors. It would certainly save the crown its own funding.


    Having a hero at your beck and call, especially one that owes you for all of their resources and connections, might be worth nearly any price. If all of your rivals know that hero performed exceptionally well in a public showing like this, all the better.


    Somehow, the thought makes me feel bad for Leuke. Tassim will probably stab her way free of anyone too clingy, Benarou can probably self-finance, and Seina seems the type to deliberately fade into the background. But Leuke?


    Yeah, if my read of the room is in any way accurate, he''s going to draw all of the attention, and he''s not ready for any of it. Ten''ll get you twenty if he doesn''t leave this courtyard with three different engagements aimed at him.


    For the first time since I woke up in this place, I''m actually grateful that I don''t have my gun. Showing it off in a place like this would be asking to be mugged for the rest of my life.


    Instead, I can blend into a wallflower with Seina and slip out of this meat shop with no one the wiser. Even if they really haven''t ever seen a blonde before, I seriously doubt I''ll stick out any more than she will. After all, they''re here for weapons, not wives. An unexceptional showing means being overlooked, not abducted.


    It would mean going without a sponsor, but maybe I can pose as a craftsman until I can find someone skilled enough to make a gun for me. Benarou had seemed to think finding such a master would be difficult, but not impossible.


    ... This isn''t some sort of karmic punishment for not choosing Socrates'' route in the first place, is it?


    When Genstai steps away from the emperor''s side, all of the nobles go quiet. It''s actually kind of impressive. Maybe the old man really is as important as he makes himself out to be. Or maybe the nobles just know it means the show''s about to start.


    He comes to a stop in roughly the middle of all three groups - us, the nobles and the imperials - and raises his voice to reach us all.


    "Great Houses of Furinshao! Your families honor us with your attendance this day, as you honor them in attending to your Emperor''s command.


    "Many and horrible have been the tribulations that have afflicted our people since the fall of the Western Demesne! The darkness rolls ever onward, corrupting the ancient places of the world and all of the creatures about and within! Crops and wilderness alike grow strange and poisonous to our pure flesh! The darkness pools in the souls of rogues and vagabonds that discard their honor and station for insatiable greed and bottomless gluttony! Peasants that once did the proud work of farming the land now tend fields of corpses and gorge themselves on the flesh of their fellow man!


    "Our brave and noble warriors have fought against this accursed tide and bought us time with their blood. But with that time, we have enacted the holy summoning ritual, and the Heavens have answered our call! For the first time in generations, Heroes stand before us!


    "Today, the Imperial House fulfills its traditional duty of First Armaments, as it has done in times of old. From its own armories, it grants each Hero a relic befitting his or her skills, with which they will then display their Heaven-sent capabilities for the reassurance of us all!"


    Genstai finally pauses in his speech to motion back toward the dandy, who in turn immediately starts directing the two soldiers rather than do any of the lifting, himself. They, of course, obediently begin the process of bringing the boxes forward, laying them out in the order the dandy dictates.


    "Historically, of course," the old priest continues, "the Heroes will not use the First Armaments forever. They may, for certainly none can accuse the Imperial House of withholding its generosity in times of such peril. However, as Heroes grow to heights unimaginable, they may outgrow these mortal treasures, discovering new ones or forging their own to suit their needs. It is our hope only that they receive a firm foundation, and will not forget who granted it.


    "Heroes! Present yourselves before the Imperial House and the Houses of Furinshao! As your names are called, step forward and receive the first weapons of your new life! From this day forth, no longer are you mere mortals! Your old stations are washed away in the Essence of the Heavens and forged anew! Today, you take your first step into Legend!"

 Chapter 6 - Armaments

    Chapter 6


    Armaments


    "Leuke Flamvel," the old priest shouts first. "Swordmaster Hero!"


    When Leuke steps forward, however, Genstai stays put. Instead, the dandy lifts a long, massive sword wrapped in linen from the first box and carries it over like he''s doing the swordsman a favor, and it''s he who explains the gift.


    "The Imperial House grants you the Ryutaiji Steel! May it cut through the darkness before you!"


    The dandy''s voice sounds like his balls never dropped, but that doesn''t make the reveal any less impressive when Leuke pulls the linen off with one hand to reveal a freaking buster sword with a flame-blackened surface. The blade must be five feet long, and as wide as the length of my forearm at the base, with another foot and a half of handle. The guard and hilt look like they''re engraved with a dragon motif.


    The whole thing must weigh a ton, but he holds it in one hand like it''s nothing. Must be that 150 strength putting in the work. He even gives it a little experimental spin to check the balance.


    Only after marveling over the weapon does he remember his manners and give a bow to the imperial couple before returning to the line with the rest of us.


    "Tassim Miyan! Shadowstalker Hero!"


    The dandy, who at this point is clearly some crown representative, pulls out a pair of arming swords for her. Also, freaking Shadowstalker. Because of course she had to be even cooler.


    "The Imperial House grants you the Fangs of Luwei! May you sink them deep into the heart of corruption!"


    She, too, gives a quick twirl of the blades, but it''s much more professional than Leuke''s distracted curiosity, and then she turns on her heel to give a sharp, right angle bow to the imperial family.


    It continues in this manner for the other two. Benarou (Sendai), a Battlemage, receives the Staff of Six, an obsidian rod etched with symbols I assume represent the elements and topped with a diamond setting nearly the size of my fist. It looks like a pimp cane to me, but the lightning bolt he unleashes from it into the sky convinces me to keep it to myself.


    One of the clusters of nobles are much more animated when his name is mentioned, too. Relatives? It wouldn''t surprise me at all to learn he''s a capitol boy.


    Seina, whose family name is Bibe, is a Theurgist, and is given the Rod of Order. It''s a mace with a green stone set into the middle of the head and a chain coming off the bottom that connects to a spiky, metal incense burner. Nobody can tell me somebody didn''t use that thing as a flail at some point, especially when it''s full of hot ash and embers.


    Surprisingly, the dandy didn''t so much as take notice of her most prominent feature. Either he''s got inhuman self control or, nevermind his balls dropping, somebody chopped them off before puberty.


    ... Wait, are eunuchs a thing here? Some part of me feels like that''s a can of worms I don''t really want to open.


    "Remmi Lee! Gunslinger Hero!"


    I ignore the murmuring from the onlookers as they try to place my class and instead do my best to imitate the others as I step forward.


    It''s only now, as he approaches me with a bag wrapped in strips of cloth, that I realize the dandy is barely taller than I am. However, there''s something very different about his demeanor that wasn''t there with the other heroes.


    He''s had an air of an inflated ego throughout the entire proceedings, but now it seems uniquely directed at me. The way he grins out of one side of his mouth, the way his head is tilted just back enough so that he seems to look down his nose toward me without giving up plausible deniability.


    ... It''s been over half a decade since I saw it last, but I recognize it immediately. He''s got Stuck-Up-Bitch written all over him. That look of social superiority from the school slut right before she shames her victim in the middle of the cafeteria.


    I''m immediately on edge before he even starts speaking.


    "Forgiveness, Hero, but your unique class has caught the Imperial House quite unprepared. We do not know what sort of strange ammunition gun are, but if you are a slinger, then it is our hope that iron bearings will at least suffice for the review."


    No, he fucking doesn''t. He hopes it''s a humiliatingly horrible fit. Joke''s on him, I''m already planning for a bad showing.


    I keep that to myself as he passes me the satchel. I can immediately feel the heavy balls shifting around inside, and I notice that the strips of cloth easily unwind. I hold it up before me as I remove it.


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    Oh, for crying out loud ...


    It''s a length of braided cloth rope, with a wooden cap on one end, a loop on the other small enough to go around a finger, and a wide, flat pocket in the middle.


    In other words, it''s a shepherd''s sling. No ornamentation, no fanfare, just as simple and bland a sling as I could ever imagine.


    The nobles have noticed, too, and their noises are getting louder.


    Instead, as I hold one end of the sling between two raised fingers, I turn my attention back to the dandy and raise an eyebrow. "No fancy name for this one?"


    His grin widens just before he drops his head to me, his voice still plenty loud enough for everyone to hear. "Forgiveness again, Hero, but powerful relics place a heavy weight upon the soul. As you are only level one, the Imperial House did not wish to overburden you."


    So they want it known how weak I am. I give a glance toward the imperial couple. Was this all some sort of plan? I thought the dandy was just a petty little shit that had been personally looking forward to embarrassing a hero.


    As the murmurs from the crowd grow into a dull roar, I consider the possibility of some sort of actual plot. But why? I haven''t even been here a full day. What could I possibly have done to piss off the crown?


    He notices my pause, and snivels in the most condescending, insincere way. "Is there something the matter, honored Hero? Is it the sizing? Is the ornamentation too gaudy? I have said that your class is strange to us. Only speak, and master smiths shall make it right!"


    Oh, he''s hoping I''ll make an ass of myself by complaining it''s not as fancy as the weapons given to the other, higher level heroes. I see the game now. Pity he''s playing in left field.


    "Actually," I say calmly instead of rising to the bait, "there''s been a misunderstanding about my class. I don''t use a sling. Is there any chance you have repeating crossbows?"


    For some reason, mention of the weapon causes a wave of quiet chuckles from the nobles. Not a particularly respected weapon, then?


    The dandy, too, seems caught off-guard. "You ... would prefer to fight using a repeating crossbow?" He regathers himself quickly, though. "Oh, we do have them. Yes, that can be arranged. No poison will be provided for safety reasons, of course, you understand. Is ... a repeating crossbow what your class is meant for?"


    "It''s closer than a sling," I reply. "I''ll just have to make it work."


    "I ... see. Any specific requests with it?"


    "Preferably one I can hold and fire from one hand, and I''ll need a couple minutes to familiarize myself with whatever design you use."


    "... Of course," the dandy replies, and I hand him back the sling and satchel of metal orbs. "We''ll see if one of the handmaidens have one they''re willing to part with."


    He gives a snap of his fingers toward the two soldiers and one of them immediately jogs away.


    "Thank you," I reply, and turn to give the imperial couple a bow like the others gave, then I return to my place in line.


    ... As I''m left waiting, I mull over some of his more confusing words. Poison? Handmaidens? None in the armory? And the dismissive response the crowd had. Has there been some sort of miscommunication?


    No, I''m sure there wasn''t. Seina said everything there''s a word for is perfectly translated. It doesn''t matter what they call it here. They recognized whatever they heard. That means the concept of a repeating crossbow exists here. They just don''t seem to think much of it.


    I suppose I''ll find out why when it arrives.


    The other heroes are giving me looks out of the corners of their eyes, but I keep my head forward. I''ll do the best I can, and if it doesn''t work out, well, that was my plan from the start, anyway. Whatever issue the crown has with me, I''m no worse off than I already was.


    Genstai seems prepared to continue on with the event regardless.


    "With the duty of First Armaments fulfilled, we now move on to the demonstration! I remind everyone to maintain a safe distance. Fragments may well fly with great speed!"


    It could be argued that it hasn''t actually been fulfilled since we''re still waiting on mine. They all know what I''m getting, though, and they all know it''s on the way, so it''s a nitpick more than any real falsehood. I don''t give it more than a passing thought.


    Besides, I''m far more interested in the wooden scarecrows that come marching out onto the field in front of us. A whole army of the things, with thin, wooden main bodies padded with leather. Straw sticks out from under their leather caps like tawny strings of hair. Their faces are wooden shells encasing crystal balls where their one red eye is located.


    Weapons are hard-mounted to their bodies. Rather than hands, a sword or spear may be directly mounted to the joint, for example. Swords and shields are the most common, followed by spears, but I spy a back row of crossbowmen. Despite being less common than the swordsmen, the spearman constructs place themselves at the front line, as if to anticipate an enemy charge.


    Once they are all out in their ranks and files, they begin a parade-like performance automatically, presumably to show off their complexity. They rotate through a preprogrammed routine that runs the gamut from marching in place to brandishing their weapons, then rotating with their same type of units while never ceasing to face us.


    The spearmen crab walk clockwise while the crossbowmen do so in reverse and the swordsmen between them brandish, and then the whole pattern rotates so that the two that were looping brandish and the swordsmen crab walk. Each time a group goes back to the crab walk, they do it in the opposite direction they had done before.


    The constant beat of their feet fills the air with a drumming beat that makes the lack of an actual band all the more evident. The display is intimidating and more than a little creepy, frankly.


    Genstai continues. "Let us all take a moment in gratitude to the imperial artificers who poured their hearts and souls into their craft through the night to ensure these golems were ready for today''s demonstration. Though most of them may not have made it here to be with us today, may they sleep well knowing their services to the empire were well delivered!"


    After the whole assembly goes quiet save for the movements of the scarecrows, the dandy takes over again as Genstai moves back toward the emperor''s side.


    "Do not let their simplicity fool you, gentlemen, for though they may look like training dummies, each one is tuned to approximate a level 25 opponent, and will fight with according skill and bravery!"


    I swear the bastard looks right at me again. "They can even be programmed to respond appropriately to poisons!"


    I don''t give him the satisfaction of a response to the chuckles from the crowd this time, either.


    "Ready yourselves, Heroes, to prove your worth to the Empire!"


    As one, the constructs all stop their parade patterns instantly and ready their armaments. We all brace ourselves immediately in response.


    "BEGIN!"

 Chapter 7 - Trial

    Chapter 7


    Trial


    Sure enough, Leuke takes off first, smashing into the front line of scarecrows like a wrecking ball. Immediately, splinters go flying in every direction. Tassim isn''t far behind him with a more precise combat style, slipping under a swing or thrust to sever wooden neck from bar shoulders.


    Benarou stays further back, though he steps closer than I remain, since I''m still unarmed. He begins launching explosive fireballs into the enemy ranks to great effect while Seina erects barriers to protect everyone from the volleys of bolts launched from the back line.


    I have to admit, for not having known each other for even a full day, their teamwork is remarkably smooth. Or maybe they each are just very comfortable in their roles and know what they need to do regardless of what anyone else is doing.


    I take the opportunity to study the constructs and plan how I''ll contribute without getting in their way. The scarecrows are fast, crazily so, and coordinated enough not to get in their own way. If I can keep a moderate distance, though, I should be safe enough.


    The dandy is surely up to something, but he said they''ll respond to poisons. The strong implication he gave was that they use repeating crossbows to deliver toxins, rather than for penetrative damage, but if I aim for the equivalent of bare skin, I might even be able to make a decent showing.


    Despite the crowd''s expressed shock at my request, the soldier sent off actually returns fairly quickly. He''s even nice enough to walk me through the design. It''s pretty straight forward, but there''s certainly a point or two, mostly with the cartridge ejection, that would have befuddled me for a bit without his instruction.


    Rather than the semi-automatic crossbow I had imagined, this has more in common with a lever-action repeater. The rack of bolts connects to the top and seems to be gravity fed, while the bowstring is drawn back and the new bolt readied with the pumping of a large, square lever. The string is then held behind a catch until the trigger is pulled. It has a pistol style grip that feels comfortable in my hands, and the weight of the lever action is cumbersome, but manageable.


    I can immediately see why it received such ridicule as a weapon of war, however. The bow, itself, is only about a foot across, not counting the stock of the weapon, and the bolts are only about as long as my hand. There''s no way it could have much impact force compared to more traditional crossbows. The reason for supplementing with poison now makes complete sense.


    I briefly wonder if I should have requested a regular crossbow instead, but while a modern one might be fine, I suspect the ones they use here would require more strength than I have to reload after every shot.


    The repeating crossbow has no sights, and they''d be useless with the lever and cartridge crowding the top anyway, so the weapon is probably unreliable beyond a moderate range. Fortunately, I get the feeling that''s the range I''ll be most comfortable at, and while it''s not a firearm, this feels like a weapon I can use.


    I can''t really explain the origins of either of these feelings, just that something inside me tells me that they''re right.


    Each cartridge holds ten bolts, but the soldier brought me two more in addition to the one already loaded, so I tuck the other two into my robe (mental note, get pockets, or at least a utility belt) and, after thanking the soldier for his help, I turn my attention to the battle.


    The other heroes have spread out now, making their own ways into the depths of the scarecrow army. Even Benarou has begun to rotate around the outside of the battle to keep on the move, and the tides of the battle have forced Seina into the thick of it.


    I decide I should follow the mage''s example and stick to the outer edge of the battle, staying on the move so as not to end up inside it. Unfortunately, this strategy immediately fails when I pick my first target and fire upon it.


    Pulling aggro is definitely a thing with these scarecrows. The bolt plinks off the side of its head''s wooden shell, and aside from taking a small chunk out of the wood, the only thing it accomplishes is pissing the thing off. It and two of its buddies immediately peel off of the mob and make a bee line for me.


    Firing the hand crossbow is ... frustrating in a way that is hard to explain. Even as I unload bolts into the thing''s approaching face, constantly pausing to pump the lever feels like jumping from a sprint to a dead stop and back to a sprint over and over again.


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    As I dodge a couple sword swings when it finally catches up to me, I feel like there''s almost a song to the battle just beyond hearing. I''ve never been in a fight of remotely this scale in all of my life, but it feels almost like if I could just catch the beat of that song, I would know exactly where to move.


    The crossbow is like a constant record scratch, or a hiccuping buffer every few seconds. It doesn''t stop the song entirely, but it''s constantly throwing me out of sync.


    The last bolt catches the pissed off sword crow right in its big, red eye, and it finally shudders and collapses. I don''t have time to breathe as I dodge another sword and a spear while trying to work the cartridge release. The other sword user is on the outside of the little cluster, so I spin to the side of his shield.


    I know it''s coming, but it doesn''t hurt any less when he bashes me with the thing and sends me sprawling. I briefly see a notice of a chunk of my hit points flying away while I spin through the air. I lose a third of them in an instant just from getting backhanded by a large surface area.


    So that''s the difference between a Level 1 and a Level 25. Good to know. Their weapons would probably kill me outright, then. Let''s not find out.


    All of the air in my lungs bursts from my body as I land on my back, but I force myself to raise the crossbow anyway. Now that I know where to aim, I hit the eye of the spear wielder in only three shots. My mind automatically notes with negativity that I only have seventeen left.


    And then I have none. The scarecrow that smacked me with his shield brings his sword down and I''m barely able to keep it from cleaving into me by taking it on the crossbow, which shatters under the force of his blow. Even that chops another dozen hit points off of me, according to my entirely too enthusiastic status feed.


    He draws back for another strike, and like an idiot for thinking it would even slow him down, I throw my hands up in front of me. That blood red eye is locked onto mine.


    A barrier appears around me just in time to interrupt the strike.


    After a half breath realizing I''m not dead, I look around quickly to see Seina focusing on me, her hand outstretched. Yes, it''s like the barriers she used to protect against the crossbowmen. But she''s surrounded. Far more than I am.


    Like a blow mightier than the scarecrow''s, I''m suddenly hit with the realization of what a handicap I am to the other heroes like this.


    My hand moves over one of the bolts from the shattered cartridge and blindly closes around it.


    I can''t let poor Seina go down because I was helpless. I can''t.


    The scarecrow pulls back for another blow as if he intends to break through the barrier with brute force. That stupid shield comes around in front of him as if he''d been practicing his form all his life instead of having just been built last night.


    My grip on the bolt tightens, and I do something stupid.


    I scream. I''m not even really aware that I''m not saying anything. I just bellow into the thing''s face, and I launch my whole body into it. My free hand grabs the rim of his shield as I haul myself over it and throw my hundred-some pounds into his stupid twig body.


    We both topple to the ground again. I see flashes of a steel sword, but I barely register it as I do my best to pin him with my own body and blindly jab that bolt down into his face like it''s a dagger.


    I don''t know when I hit the eye. I don''t know when the scarecrow stopped moving underneath me. I just keep jabbing the bolt down into it until the shaft breaks in my hand. And then I punch the stupid thing a few more times before I finally stop acting like a rabid lunatic.


    I''m down to three hit points. My stamina is nearly exhausted. I''m heaving to get enough oxygen and my side is wet. My left arm is cold. All of this information comes to me as my mind finally decides to take accounting of its surroundings again, but it''s a dull, empty dictation.


    Distantly, I still hear combat around me. It''s not over. I have to move, I reason dumbly, or Seina will have to defend me again.


    My eyes go first to the remains of the repeating crossbow. The stock is smashed in half, the string is cut, the cartridge receptacle is crushed. Bolts litter the ground around it, but I don''t fancy my chances trying to shank another dozen scarecrows.


    There''s the sword of the one I''m on top of, its blade red with blood.


    Who did it stab? Was it already bloody before it came for me?


    That doesn''t seem right. I''m pretty sure its blade was still clean.


    It doesn''t matter. A sword is too close in. I''d get overpowered by the first one to block me. I need reach.


    The only other weapon to consider, then, is the spear from the second scarecrow. I climb back to my feet and step over to it, then stare at its solid connection to the thing''s upper arm like I''ve never seen a joint before.


    But it''s the only weapon I can feasibly use, so I reach down and grip its haft in both hands and place my foot against the thing''s upper arm. And I pry.


    My stamina drops to ten points before I hear a crack and the spear comes free. I lift it up in front of me, my grip feeling numb, and turn back to the battle.


    Already there, another scarecrow is staring at me with its big, red eye.


    I step back and it steps toward me. I try to think of the right way to fight with a spear and place my feet in line with each other, careful not to choke the haft too tightly with my forward hand. I recall my 10 Strength and wonder if it''s enough to even do anything to this thing.


    It draws back, and I ready myself as well as I can. I refuse to go down without a fight, struggling not to show that it could probably take me out with a stiff backwind.


    A massive slab of steel cleaves it into a shower of splinters from behind, and I find myself stupidly staring at Leuke.


    "Yo," he greets me, and I blink mutely in response.


    He looks me over, then turns casually off to one side. "Hey, Sei! Rem could use a hand!"


    All I can think of is her risking herself again. "What? No, don''t pull her away from the fight." It comes out a half mumble. "I''m fine."


    But instead, his grin just widens at my words. "Don''t worry, Rem, we''ll get you fixed up."


    "That''s not what I--"


    "I heard you fine," he insists, still grinning. "But the fight''s over."


    And I''m staring like an idiot again.

 Chapter 8 - Rejection

    Chapter 8


    Rejection


    The courtyard is a wasteland of shattered lumber, large sections of it burning like the bad end of Ferngully. I''d feel bad for whoever has to rake it all up, but I didn''t even notice until it was pointed out to me.


    Even now, Leuke''s holding me up while Seina''s healing washes over me. Warmth flows back into my left arm and my breath comes easier. Awareness of my surroundings returns to me until a few moments ago feels like I was all but blind.


    As my hit points rapidly climb back up to sixty, I finally process what bad shape I''d been in.


    Three. Three hit points and ten stamina. That''s how close I''d been to dead. I express my gratitude with the only word that seems at all sufficient.


    "Shit ..."


    Especially with the notice in my field of view.


    <hr>


    You overestimated yourself and


    suffered a humiliating loss.


    +100 Points


    <hr>


    Clearly, this Essence System isn''t big on emotional support.


    "Hey, any fight you make it out of, right?" Leuke tries to be cheerful. Without a scratch on him.


    We''re standing in front of the Emperor and his wife again, and in front of the nobles and the priest. Again, the dandy moves to take center stage, and dramatically clears his throat.


    "The runes have tallied the results of the combat and the Throne has finished deliberations! In first place, Leuke Flamvel with thirty-four kills! Followed closely by Tassim Miyan with twenty-nine and Benarou Sendai with twenty-six! Last place goes to Remmi Lee with three kills."


    He radiates smugness as he meets my gaze and sarcasm drips nigh-physically from his mouth. "Very impressive for a level one. Of course, she would have died almost immediately had it not been for the skillful application of protective magic from Seina Bibe, who shielded her allies from the enemy''s ferocious assault!"


    He pulls the last sealed container from among his cases. It looks like a jewelry box carved of dark wood. When he opens it, gold glitters from within. "You are hereby recognized as Heroes by the Furinshao Empire! Carry with you these tokens of merit and let all who see them know your greatness!"


    The dandy proceeds to hand a coin to each of the other heroes, and after the fourth one is handed to Seina, I catch a glimpse of the inside of the box. It''s empty.


    That box has been there since the start of the ceremony. There were only ever four coins in it.


    They never intended to recognize me.


    The others have started to notice that I wasn''t given a coin as the dandy smirks at me just an instant before he closes the box and turns away. I keep my face blank and the seething acid in my chest down. I don''t need their recommendation. I need my gun. Everything else can go blow chunks. Heck, I planned on this outcome.


    I just didn''t know they had planned on it, too. Or that it would hurt this much.


    Leuke apparently can''t bear to stay silent, though. He looks between me and his coin, then takes a decisive step forward. "Hey, hold on a minute!" he calls to the dandy. "You cheated her! You told her the test would act like she was using poison!"


    The dandy looks personally offended he would dare be confronted in such a way, even by someone just recognized by the Empire as a Hero. "I said that they would respond appropriately." And he grins at me again as if I''d raised the objection. "They''re constructs. They responded exactly as constructs would have to poison."


    My eyes widen at the realization that even that had been a misdirection. I may have planned on coming in dead last, but I was wrong to think they had planned the same. They hadn''t planned on it at all. They''d set it up that way. Or at least stacked it significantly against me.


    Why? I''m left asking that yet again. I''m already only Level 1 and without the weapon my class needs to function. They didn''t need to go so far out of their way to make me lose, so why did they? Why are they so determined to humiliate me?


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    He seems to be waiting for me to lash out or something, but before any of the sort can happen, the emperor in his red robe and golden belt stands. The dandy takes one look at him and retreats back to his position with a bow.


    "Enough," the emperor declares, and his voice is bassy and authoritative. "Swordmaster, Shadowstalker, Battlemage, Theurgist! You four are recognized as Heroes! Your objectives and recommendations for the start of your journey will be provided in a debriefing from our top generals this afternoon. You will receive a stipend from the Empire for equipment and resources, and may be approached by nobles with additional gifts in anticipation of your success."


    Gifts. I manage to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Bids, more like. Bribes more accurately.


    I''m not left with my thoughts. The emperor''s gaze falls to me, and I brace myself for what I expect to hear.


    "Remmi Lee, you are not recognized by the Empire as a Hero. You have been examined and found wanting. You are hereby forbidden from referring to yourself as a Hero or claiming any tie to the Heroes as a group. You will not venture with them. You will not receive stipend or imperial blessing, official or otherwise. If you are at any time henceforth found to be attempting any such thing for personal gain, you will be immediately arrested and sentenced under charges of high fraud, which may result in your execution."


    The others are clearly uncomfortable with this. I can practically hear Leuke''s teeth grinding. I can understand why. I''m being treated like some sort of criminal without doing anything wrong.


    But honestly, I''m barely listening to him. I''ve convinced myself I don''t need to care. I''ve got my plan for moving forward after this, and I don''t need his recognition for any of it. Nevermind my status says I''m a Hero all on its own and anyone seeing it is going to be able to tell, making his whole spiel pointless. What does the empire''s recognition matter if the System recognizes me?


    Let them backstab me all they want. None of it matters.


    His wife stands next, however, and moves to stand beside him. Her voice, though carrying no less authority, is far softer and kinder.


    "At the same time, we recognize that you are here because we conducted the summoning ritual, and as a result, you are far from home with no ready means to return. You have no family or associates to call upon, no roof to shelter under, and no finances available to you. We recognize that you had no agency in this matter.


    "As due compensation for your troubles, and understanding that your displacement may be for the foreseeable future, the Empire shall issue you a plot of land to do with as you wish. It is far to the south of the capitol, however, so we ask that the Temple shelters you for another night. We shall finalize the deeds and arrange transport for you, to leave tomorrow."


    My knee jerk reaction is to question if the empress just contradicted her husband, but a grant of land is not a stipend, and she specifically called it compensation, not a blessing. A neat little loophole that still doesn''t feel like it was planned. Yet the emperor''s face remains completely calm. He doesn''t look the least bit surprised or even ruffled.


    "This concludes the Hero Reviews," he declares simply. "All are dismissed!"


    Everyone gathered bows, and I decide to be diplomatic and join them. No sense telling myself their rejecting me doesn''t matter if I''m going to turn around and be petty about it.


    Besides, land. Maybe it''s beach front property. I''m not going to be staying there, but at least it''ll be a nice place to come back to and rest up. Even if it''s incredibly lousy land, I''ll bet I can do more with it than they can, anyway.


    The imperial couple leave first, followed by the dandy and his soldiers, leaving the boxes for servants to gather, and the priests leaving after them. Most of the nobles start packing up, too. Maybe it''s considered inappropriate to accost the heroes right here and now.


    "You handled that well," Benarou says quietly to me after a moment. "Not just the rejection, either. The Interior Secretary was needling you from the start, but you kept your head."


    I scoff, giving a roll of my shoulder when I realize it''s tighter than I expected. "What is there to do? I''m Level 1. My performance was pre-ordained."


    "He gave you a sling and mocked you to your face for it," Tassim puts in with more heat than I expected.


    "Hey, can''t expect a legendary weapon if I don''t meet the level requirement."


    "That was a lie." The statement comes from Benarou''s lips as if he''s commenting on the weather. "It''s a common idiom, but one that is known to be fool''s wisdom. Especially among nobles, who will hoard much in the way of magical equipment and pile it upon their scions for displays of power and prestige."


    He adjusts his glasses and then looks at me directly. "I also advise you not to belittle your achievements in the battle. You defeated three Level 25 opponents."


    "You took out twenty-six."


    "I am not Level 1. In fact, I doubt I could have defeated three of those golems when I was, certainly not at such a disadvantage. I''ve said it before, but you are disproportionately powerful to your level. Further, we have all seen your status and know you are a Hero, just like the rest of us."


    I sigh and shake my head. "Really, I appreciate it, you guys, but I don''t need my ego stroked. I''m not invested in the personal approval of the emperor of some place I only heard of yesterday, and I haven''t heard anything that needs doing that I need to be a recognized Hero to do."


    Leuke steps in at that. "You''ve already decided what you''re going to do?"


    I nod. "First, I''ll see what kind of garbage lot they''re giving me. See how it''ll do as a home base. Then I''ll do some traveling. See if I can''t find someone with the skill to make a gun for me. I may know how it works, but I don''t have the skills to build one, myself."


    The swordsman clenches his fist in determination. "We can keep our eyes open, too, then! We''re bound to come across someone eventually!"


    The other three nod in agreement, and I smile in appreciation. "Thanks, you guys. Really."


    "It''s nothing special," Tassim assures me. "If we happen across a master artificer, we''re just agreeing to say, ''Hey, we know someone with an interesting project that''s looking to hire.''"


    "Well, I appreciate it anyway," I assure them, and it''s true. Even if they''re probably just doing it out of pity, the extra eyes are helpful all the same.


    "Given that master craftsmen are the most expensive variety," Benarou puts in again, "I would suggest you first focus your efforts on acquiring funds. Your unique upbringing grants you many skills not normally possessed by a single individual. Exploit them accordingly. If plied correctly, the life of an adventurer may prove the least economically generous option available to you. Finding an artificer capable of crafting your weapon will be of no benefit if you cannot afford it."


    "And then when you do get one," Leuke nearly cheers, "I can''t wait to fight alongside you!"


    "Eh?!" Seina finally finds her voice at that. "But isn''t that what the Emperor just banned her from?!"

 Chapter 9 - Alone

    Chapter 9


    Alone


    I lay on my back on the soft bed in the Grand Temple''s guest room. The blinds are closed, but it''s dark outside, anyway. Unlike the previous night, sleep doesn''t come easily, and I know the surrounding guest rooms are empty.


    Instead of looking at the blank ceiling, I open my status window.


    <hr>


    NAME: Remmi Lee


    RACE: Human (Outsider)


    AGE: 15 (24)


    LEVEL: 1


    CLASS: Gunslinger


    HP: 60/60


    MP: 120/120


    ST: 120/120


    STRENGTH: 10


    TOUGHNESS: 20


    INTELLECT: 120


    AGILITY: 60


    POINTS: 100


    TRAITS:


    Hero


    Gun Nut


    <hr>


    A hundred points for what even the system considered a humiliating failure. Well, at least I know that it considers even failure a learning experience.


    My eyes go down to my Hero trait and the emperor''s words come back to me. Can he really just declare me not to be a hero when the system says otherwise?


    I''m surprised when I stare too hard at the trait and another window opens up.


    <hr>


    HERO


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    A trait only possessed by


    extraordinary individuals


    chosen by the Heavens to do


    great things in defense of


    the world.


    - Enables Point Spending


    - Increases Point Gain (100%)


    - Increases Luck (Unlisted)


    - One-Time Stat Increase (Er)


    - Unique Class and Boon (Gun)


    <hr>


    I spend a moment reading the description that I apparently opened by concentrating on it. Good to know that the System agrees with me.


    ... Wait, why is the one time stat increase crossed out? Does that mean I didn''t get that? Tassim did say that the increase caused them to level up, and I only wouldn''t because they were base stats. So did I not get the increase because mine are already too high? Or did it get traded in for the unique class?


    I try concentrating on the last ability of the trait, but nothing new comes up. The way it''s phrased sounds like I was supposed to get a gun as part of this whole thing, but apparently someone missed the memo.


    I think about going back to the main status window and the description disappears. This time, I look at Gun Nut with intent.


    <hr>


    GUN NUT


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    A lover of lead. An


    aficionado of firearms. You


    adore powder weapons in all


    of their forms. If it goes


    boom, you know it better than


    any lesser fan.


    The following applies when


    dealing with any firearm:


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    - Increases Knowledge


    - Increases Proficiency (25%)


    - Increases Weapon


    Performance (25%)


    - Increases Point Gain (50%)


    <hr>


    Okay, I really like those buffs, but they don''t do me a bit of good if I don''t actually have a gun.


    Finally, I check out the Points entry. This opens a lengthy menu that includes something resembling a digital shop, as well as a skill tree. Whoa, okay, that''s going to take some sorting through.


    ... I suppose I don''t have anything better to do. It''s not like I''m sleeping any time soon.


    The skill tree has everything I''d expect. There''s a primary tree for class related skills centered around firearms. That one increases my own performance like accuracy, target acquisition, trick shots and draw speed, but also has a section for increasing the performance of the weapon, itself. Those options are pretty standard, too. Attack power, capacity, fire rate, all the classics.


    There''s also a section for general skills and magic. After seeing magic, I go back to my class tree and am a little disappointed to see no corresponding category there. I recall the others talking about the Identify spell and look it up.


    <hr>


    IDENTIFY


    Cost: 100


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Identifies the traits of


    objects and the status of


    creatures. Does not provide


    statistics of creatures.


    Does not provide descriptions


    for traits except on items


    possessed by the caster.


    Higher ranks increase


    available information.


    <hr>


    Huh, so if Benarou had cast it on me, they wouldn''t have seen my Intellect?


    It would be good to have, Tassim was right about that, but it would be all of my current points. If I need something else before I can get any more, I''d be S.O.L.


    Before I can come to a decision, there''s a knocking at my door.


    I let the screens fade away and sit up. "Come in."


    Sacred Yorin is on the other side, and she''s giving a sympathetic smile I''ve become entirely too familiar with in the last few hours from everyone that lays eyes on me.


    "Good evening, Hero Remmi Lee. Pardon my intrusion."


    I arch my eyebrow at that. "Didn''t you hear the emperor''s big, fancy proclamation? I''m not allowed to go by that any longer."


    Her smile becomes bolder in reply. "And what does your status say?"


    My expression must be broadcasting that she now has my attention because she doesn''t wait for an answer and helps herself on into the room.


    "I didn''t come for such topics, however. I merely thought to ask if you''d like to join me in the temple baths. Today seems like one that could stand to be washed off, and though it is a group bath, there are not so many female priests that I can claim to be spoiled for company."


    It''s such a topic shift that it takes me a moment to process it, but a good soak in what sounds like it''s basically a hot tub sounds like a slice of Heaven right now.


    "Sure," I answer her for the second time today as I push to my feet. "Sounds great."


    * * *


    It was the right decision to make. The baths are as luxurious and extravagant as the rest of the temple, with sealed wooden floors, stonework waterways and marble decor. Weirdly, we had to do all of our actual bathing before getting into the water, like showering before using the pool.


    But it also meant once we were in, we could just soak.


    I let myself sink down into the hot water, the bath big enough that I can stretch my feet all the way out and never worry about kicking anyone on the other side, even if they did the same. I sigh as the water comes up over my shoulders to wrap around my neck.


    "I didn''t realize how much I needed this ..."


    Yorin''s skin is so pale and flawless that only the heat blush tells me I''m not looking at another of the bath''s statues. I don''t know if it''s because she''s an elf or what, but she doesn''t look a day over twenty, maybe less. It makes the motherly smile she gives me all the more contradictory than it was when she was in her robes.


    "You have had a very stressful day. How are you holding up?"


    "Honestly?" I ask myself as much as her. "Worse than I expected to. I keep telling myself it doesn''t matter, but it''s like a needle in my side. Every time I turn over, it reminds me it''s there."


    "You were done an injustice, Hero Remmi Lee," she starts, but I raise my hand.


    "Please, we''re bathing together, just Remmi is fine. The whole thing is too stuffy in here."


    Her smile widens a flicker at that. "You were done an injustice, Remmi," she repeats. "It would be stranger if it did not bother you, even if the subject in question mattered little to you."


    "Was I really?" I ask back. "A twit was rude to me. He even tried to make me look bad. That sucks, but it falls a bit short of an injustice. He didn''t even actually say anything that was wrong."


    "Yet he convinced the emperor that you are not actually a Hero," Yorin counters. "Truth was presented in such a way as to create a lie, and you have suffered for the slander. By my understanding, that does not fail to reach the level of an injustice."


    I sigh and sit up straighter in the water to better face her statements. "What does it matter? If they all want to think so little of me, I can''t do anything about what goes on in their heads."


    "You should not so hastily assume that everyone swayed today is necessarily arrayed against you. The Interior Secretary inherited his master''s bias, and the Minister, himself, the bias of his associates. They put on a good display today and convinced many, but you are not so outnumbered as you believe."


    At that, I can only shake my head. "Whoever it is that dislikes me, I still don''t know what I did to piss them off."


    "Perhaps they obsess over levels, and cannot imagine a Level 1 Hero," Yorin suggests in a way that makes me think she knows better and is just going through the motions. "Maybe they are superstitious of why there are suddenly five Heroes instead of four."


    I go ahead and give the priestess a flat look. "You don''t believe either of those things, do you, Yorin?"


    Her smile flitted back up again. "I believe that mortal greed is a powerful temptation, and the greater the prize, the further Man is willing to go to get it. Anger is an emotion that requires personal attachment, greed is not."


    I suppress a groan and cross my arms. "You''re one of those riddling types, huh? Wonderful. You know nobody likes that trope, right?"


    Sacred Yorin doesn''t even have the common decency to look guilty at the accusation. Her smile just widens as she chuckles over it. "I do not believe it so difficult a riddle. Do your people dislike them?"


    "Just the opposite. We love them too much!" I let myself slip back down into the steaming waters. "Our stories are overflowing with old masters incapable of giving straight answers."


    Yorin does too good a showing of flinching away, placing a hand against her chest as she does so. She doesn''t remotely look actually upset. "How old do you think I am?!"


    I only spare one lazy eye to look her over with suspicion. The other can''t be bothered and stays shut. "If you ask like that, a thousand twenty."


    She actually cackles at that, the first real belly laugh I''ve seen from her. It rebounds off of the marble walls around us until it sounds like I''m surrounded by naked elf priestesses.


    "Oho," Yorin finally manages as she settles down again, "I''m afraid even we elves don''t live quite that long, dear. Certainly, increasing in level raises one''s vitality, but to live a thousand years, oh my. And it gets harder to raise it the higher you go. You''d be pressed to find even one of my kind who lives for more than a few centuries."


    She wipes a tear from her eye with a finger, gives another chuckle, and sets her eyes on me once again. "Though for a Hero, it might be possible. It is said that if you can reach Level 100, you unlock a skill to stop aging entirely. Something for you to look forward to, perhaps?"


    "So I can become obsessed with talking in riddles, too? No thanks." Besides, I''d definitely want to put off a purchase like that until I wouldn''t be stuck looking like a kid, but I''m not saying that part out loud.


    Yorin chuckles again, but changes the topic. "Say, Remmi, would you mind explaining something about your class to me?"


    "Oh? Is there something the Millennium Elf doesn''t know?"


    "It''s the phrasing. It''s confusing. We have slingers, as the Interior Secretary mentioned, but you told him it was a misunderstanding of your class."


    "Ah." I rub an itch on my nose as I consider the question. "Well, slinging is to fling something, yeah? It''s something you do to something else. Gunslinging, though, it''s from something. The gun is the weapon, and the sling is like the sheath. It''s the holster, not how you use the gun. In fact, a quick draw attack is usually a signature specialty of Gunslingers. There''s whole contests of who can draw and shoot an opponent dead in a single motion faster and more accurately."


    "Oh, I see," the priestess replies thoughtfully. "Gunning from the sling would be a more accurate translation, then, rather than slinging with the gun. We were viewing it backwards. Yes, that makes more sense. Indeed, quick draw attacks are something familiar to this land, though it is usually a sword skill. It is, as you said, a signature specialty of the Iaidoka class, but some Swordmasters will learn it, too."


    Iaido''s here, too, huh? Images of samurai drawing on each other under moonlight jump readily to mind, and I nod. "I''m pretty sure the two skills are related, actually. Or at least, if we''re thinking of the same sorts of arts. Back home, the two disciplines weren''t strangers, anyway, though you rarely saw both in the same place."


    She nods, too, then stands, water rolling off her form. "Perhaps if nothing else, you could benefit from studying under an Iaidoka school for a time, if the specialties truly are compatible. I could put in a recommendation for you, and if the Review was any indication, your class seems to have some periphery proficiency with blades. A holdout weapon, perhaps?"


    I try to put the recollection of me stabbing the scarecrow with the crossbow bolt out of my mind as I follow her example. "An offhand knife isn''t unheard of, yeah. And bayonets, now that you mention it. That may not be a bad idea. Bath time''s over, then?"


    Sacred Yorin gives that motherly smile again. "I like to take a walk in the cool night air after a hot bath. After drying and redressing, of course. I find the contrast refreshing. Would you care to join me once more?"

 Chapter 10 - Gun

    Chapter 10


    Gun


    "You should get proper armor before you leave the capitol, too," Yorin says after I complain about the chilly night air drafting up my leg. "If your class has special armor requirements, you''re more likely to find something here than anywhere else. I''ll introduce you to my favorite at opening bell tomorrow. If he can''t take care of you, he''ll know who can."


    I look over at the woman who seems to think she''s taken personal charge of me even as I''m still rubbing the goosebumps on my arms. I remember how quick she was to flit away when I first showed up. Maybe this is more her comfort zone?


    Of course, there''s a bigger problem with what she seems to be planning.


    "Where is the money for proper armor coming from?" I ask. "At least where I come from, special is another way of saying expensive, and all I have to my name is an unknown plot of land as far away from the capitol as they can put me." I look ahead again. "Of course, I''d settle for some decent stockings right now."


    She gives me an apologetic smile. "Were that I had any, I would give them to you, but temple robes render them redundant. Tell me, do most Gunslingers eschew pants?"


    I shake my head. "Mobility is definitely more valued than just about anything else." I think of the tendency for hats and sunglasses. "Except for maybe keeping bright light out of your eyes. Tassim has an Agility-based class and she was able to wear them fine, but they all just bothered me to no end for some reason. And the full robes were even worse. I felt like I was wrapped in concrete."


    Yorin has a thoughtful expression for a bit. "It could be cultural. Tassim has spent her life in similar clothes. How different is our clothing from what you are accustomed to?"


    I think to skirts and slacks and jeans. Of buttoned blouses, elastic t-shirts and factory-produced shoes.


    "Very," I conclude. "Everything fits better for one, and we use different materials that give the fabric different qualities. They could look like they were more confining but actually allow much more movement. And I can''t wait to get back into a proper pair of shoes. These sandals rub the inside of my toes weird."


    "I''ll add a cobbler to the agenda tomorrow, as well."


    I almost turn to give her another look, but before I do, something else in the direction we''re going catches my attention. I know she''s seen it too the moment I do look toward her, because her smile is spreading across her face again.


    "... Yorin ..."


    "Remmi," she answers without a shred of expressed guilt.


    The path we''re on is taking us back to the massive courtyard from the Reviews, and standing there waiting for us, underneath the moonlight and the glow of magic lamps, is the Empress, herself. At her side is her son, who notices us first and pulls her attention to us.


    "Remmi Lee, Sacred Yorin," she calls to us as we finish our approach. "How lovely of you to join us. Miss Lee, I hope you don''t mind Feng coming along. He was with tutors all day and missed seeing the Heroes during the review."


    I look down to the boy and smile. He smiles back and I notice he''s missing a tooth. Must''ve been one of his first baby teeth to go.


    I turn my attention back to his mother. "I don''t mind at all. And thank you, Your Highness, for confirming that this was a set-up."


    She gives a bemused smile, and I find her much more expressive outside of official court. "If you spend much time with Sacred Yorin, young Hero, you''ll find that everything is a set-up when she is involved."


    Well, that''s a whole can of worms to sort through. Was this the priestess''s doing? I have a hard time imagining half the empire''s ruling family being subservient to her, but at the very least, she was certainly in on the plan. I decide to go with something a bit more obvious, however.


    "Your husband stripped me of that title," I remind her.


    It doesn''t even budge her smile.


    "I won''t be so trite as to bring up your status," she replies. "I''m certain Yorin has beaten me to it, anyway. Instead, I''ll remind you that you were only forbidden from using it, yourself. I can call you Hero as much as I please."


    As if following with another thought, there''s a breath before she adds, "Oh, and it''s only the big H, to be clear. You go save some village or another, and you can go around calling yourself, ''hero of,'' all you like. And beyond that, just because the Imperial Throne has declared something at one point, that doesn''t mean it doesn''t reserve the right to change its mind at another."


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    My mind hangs on those last words as Yorin moves to stand beside the empress like she belongs there. She even bends down and ruffles Feng''s hair on the way over.


    "That''s why we''re all here, isn''t it?" Empress or no, if they''re going to act so casual about yanking me around, they can deal with me crossing my arms in distrust. "You want something from me, and you''re holding a reversal over me if I do it."


    Yorin gets a smile that looks like an attempt to be reassuring while also being caught doing something it shouldn''t, and she blushes the way she did when I complained about showing up nude. "Well, yes, technically, that''s true, but when you phrase it like that, misunderstandings are liable to occur."


    Oh, gosh, how did I never realize how fake and cliche that act was?


    "Hey," I scold the priestess as I narrow my eyes at her, "don''t you think it''s a little late to be acting all cutesy now?"


    The empress sighs, but the way her shoulders slump when she does it, it sounds more like one of relief. "Finally, someone who will just speak directly," I think I hear her mumble.


    When she raises herself up again, I''m not looking at an empress anymore. Oh, it''s still the same woman, still in those violet robes, still with that golden belt, still with that web-like crown of gold braid and jade. It''s the presence that is different, like a veil fell away, and now she is just a woman dressed like an empress.


    "I will be to the point, then. Hero Remmi Lee, we wish for you to take the Review again."


    A bit late, I find myself glancing over to where the scarecrows came out earlier this same day, and notice the shapes of perhaps two dozen of the things lined up under the shadow of the courtyard wall. Turned off, if the lack of glowing red eyeballs is any indication.


    "It has been Master Yorin''s very strongly expressed opinion that you can do much better than you performed at today''s ceremony."


    I don''t miss the change in title the empress uses for the priest, but when I glance over, she''s just giving me that motherly smile again.


    "Defeating three Level 25 opponents as a Level 1 with poor equipment is very impressive, Remmi," the elf says as if compelled to reassure me. "You move with natural instincts and your base stats are absurdly high. If we were looking only for powerful adventurers full of promise, you would not have in any way fallen short. Guilds across the empire would be fighting each other to claim you as a member."


    She raises a finger as her expression turns stern. "But defeating only three Level 25 opponents as a Hero is extremely disappointing. The expectations placed upon you are completely different from those of a normal mortal."


    The empress seems to have taken issue with something Yorin said from the way she''s frowning, but it''s not what I''m expecting. "Since when are the two of you on a first name basis?"


    The priestess''s face folds back up into a bright smile. "Group baths are a magical thing for forming bonds."


    I''m ignoring that, I promptly decide.


    "Hold on, aren''t we losing sight of something?" I ask instead. "You''re all so obsessed with levels. Did you forget that the other Heroes were all a higher level than your scarecrows?"


    "Hero Seina Bibe was actually Level 24," the empress corrects me, "but I understand your point. However, you are overestimating the difference a few levels can make. If a Level 20 fought a Level 30, we would, of course, expect the Level 30 to win, all other things being equal, but it isn''t impossible for the Level 20 to cause an upset. And unless it was a complete rout, the Level 30 would not emerge unscathed."


    She focuses her gaze on me to emphasize her point. "Mind you, that is one opponent, ten levels lower."


    My mind returns to the battle earlier in the day, to the end of it, with Leuke coming out unharmed against over thirty scarecrows. I''m starting to grasp the emphasis they''re placing on being a Hero. It wasn''t their stats that their victory was being credited to.


    "I get the message," I confirm, "but did you guys forget I''m unarmed again? My weapon was smashed to pieces during the review."


    "Yes, that was actually Master Yorin''s greatest argument in your favor," the empress noted with a sage nod. "That ... noodle spitter, as she put it, was not your weapon."


    Noodle Spitter. Apt. I''m distracted enough by the mental image of that being the relic name the dandy had to call out for it that I almost don''t catch the empress turning away before she comes back with a small object wrapped in rich silks.


    It''s big enough to cross the width of both of her hands, and my eyes are already nearly popping out of my head at the outline suggested by the silk laying atop it.


    "If we are not both completely, woefully mistaken," she continues uninterrupted, and then peels back the silk cover, revealing brushed steel chrome with punched lettering that catches even the dim light like a beacon.


    "... This is."


    I''m on it before I even fully process my own intentions, snatching it up from her hands and holding it up in the air before my eyes. "My gun!"


    And it is my gun. It''s not just a gun that they actually had after all. It''s the exact pistol that I keep in my nightstand. The very one I was thinking of when I was in the sky, answering the System''s questions. I even recognize its few blemishes.


    "So it''s true," she notes, though she doesn''t seem surprised. "The Heavens did make an exception for you. But then, I suppose it had to. This artifact has no true parallel in all of the empire. If this is what you were intended to use, there is no possible way we could have armed you effectively. Anything that might have been close would have left you crippled in one way or another."


    Yorin elbows her in the side with a grin, which the empress seems determined to ignore. "Standing there all sage-like as if you aren''t repeating the very things I told you, Xuhi."


    Instead, the empress focuses her attention on me again, and that imperial air returns to her.


    "Hero Remmi Lee, heed my words. The Furinshao Empire considers that weapon a Heavenly Artifact, far more valuable, and potentially powerful, than the treasures given freely to the other Heroes. It cannot be allowed to leave this place in the hands of anything less than an exceptional Hero. A Hero that, at Level 1, can rival the performance of any of the other four.


    "If you cannot prove to be that Hero, right here, tonight, your title will remain stripped from you. The artifact will be taken from you, and you will never see it again."

 Chapter 11 - Retry

    Chapter 11


    Retry


    I hug the cold steel protectively to my chest. "You can''t do that! It''s not yours! It belongs to me!"


    "For the sake of the Empire, I must." The empress''s expression is severe and unbending.


    "You can''t possibly believe I''d let you."


    At that, there''s a spark of fire in the woman''s eyes. "It is not a matter of what you will permit, young Hero. Do not misunderstand me, I want nothing more than to see you leave this courtyard tonight as an imperially recognized Hero, and that weapon at your side. But it is not its value alone that I speak for."


    She points to my chest - to the gun or to me, I can''t be certain. "It is equally as vital that you are powerful enough to defend it. Should such an artifact fall into the wrong hands, the threat it could pose to the people I have sworn to protect is as great as the encroaching darkness you were summoned to face. If you are not mighty enough to stand against one, I cannot entrust you with the other."


    I''m certain there''s fire in my gaze, too, and I curb my shock at her threat while my own voice dips low. "I promise you, Your Highness, I will shoot anyone that tries to take this from me."


    "Hey, hey!" Yorin waves her arms over her head as she steps between us. "We''re all trying to be on the same side here! Let''s not forget that just because we all have our own responsibilities to consider! All of this hostile posturing is completely unnecessary!"


    "She wants to take my gun, Yorin!" I insist, unintentionally petulant.


    "No, she doesn''t!" the priestess vehemently answers back. "If she thought you couldn''t meet her expectations, she wouldn''t be here at all! It would be the most horrible sort of tragedy if you were to die over a fight that doesn''t need to happen!"


    Her choice of words makes me blink. "You mean if one of us died, don''t you?"


    "If Xuhi wanted to take it back from you, right here and now, you don''t have the means to stop her, even as a Hero with a Heavenly Artifact."


    I blink again, so she elbows the empress once more.


    "Show her your status."


    That shatters the veil of imperial authority again, and her bottom lip almost pouts as she frowns at the priestess. "Must I? Would yours not make far more of an impression?"


    "I am not the one she sees as an immediate threat."


    The empress gives a put-upon sigh and goes through the increasingly familiar gestures.


    <hr>


    NAME: Xuhitana Furinshao


    RACE: Human


    AGE: 28


    LEVEL: 64


    CLASS: Iaidoka


    HP: 1,090/1,090


    MP: 225/225


    ST: 740/740


    STRENGTH: 280


    TOUGHNESS: 265


    INTELLECT: 150


    AGILITY: 370


    TRAITS:


    Ronin


    Apprentice of the White Witch


    Liberator


    Giantslayer


    Dragonslayer


    Witchblade Master


    Warrior Queen


    <hr>


    I can feel the fire in my eyes die out as ice coats my insides all the way down to my stomach. This woman could break Leuke over one fist. And she''s an Iaidoka like Yorin mentioned. An absurdly accomplished one, with traits like those.


    I try to release the tension in my chest with a long exhale. "... You have no idea how glad I am you''re not armed right now ..."


    But Xuhitana just smirks and pulls the fabric of her robe open enough to show her left leg. Hidden by the thick fabrics, a sheathed blade is strapped to her thigh. "I''ve not taken so much as a step from my own bedroom unarmed since I was younger than you are. But I appreciate the intent of your comment, Miss Lee."


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    I swallow even as the intimidating status screen disappears from sight.


    Yorin claps her hands before her a couple times like a charm to clear bad air. "Now that that''s been settled! Remmi! Are you ready to give the review another try?"


    Right. That''s why we''re here. I turn to look to the still-silent scarecrows, then down at my pistol. It''s a 1911 clone with a chrome body and black grip, and looks even larger in these smaller hands than it did in my adult ones, but it still fits snugly without feeling too bulky or heavy.


    I turn it sideways and press a familiar button with my thumb, causing the bottom to pop out. There''s a set of slits on the double-stack magazine so I can see exactly how many rounds I have in it, but I''m surprised to realize I already know even though it''s not full. It''s not some sort of shooter HUD, I just automatically know how many are still loaded.


    I hold the steel rectangle toward them. "Did more of these show up with it?"


    They look to each other for a moment, then both women shake their heads.


    "Damn, I need more bullets. I don''t have enough for that many scarecrows, even if--" I cut myself off, blinking. "Wait a sec."


    My mind has gone back to that online store in my Points menu, and I turn away from the two of them as I quickly navigate back to it. Gratitude that I didn''t spend my points on Identify right away fills me.


    Right at the top of the store page is a tab proudly marked, "Ammunition." Score!


    I immediately select several magazines marked as overpressurized jacketed hollow point, since the window cheerfully promises all purchases are guaranteed to operate safely with my firearm, but stop when I see the price in the cart.


    "Holy moley ... That can''t be right ..."


    As I''m double checking my order, Yorin leans in with a concerned expression, though she can''t see the window since I''m not sharing it. "Is something wrong?"


    "Is it normal to be able to buy physical things with points?"


    Again, the women look to each other, but Yorin answers shortly. "Heroes can, but it is usually only basic supplies. Are you able to purchase your bolts through it?"


    "Bullets," I automatically correct her, "and yeah. All sorts. And they''re dirt cheap!" I pause. "Well, I assume so. A whole magazine of them is only five points."


    "Look up a ration pack," she advises. "That will be something we can draw a comparison with."


    It takes a few more moments to find, but I soon do so. "Looks like a ration pack is twenty-five points."


    "That would make an order of bullets equivalent to a tin in price, more or less."


    I arch an eyebrow, and she elaborates. "A tin is a single coin piece. Most prices are given in tins, with one tin being one hundred bits and one hundred tins being a bar. If it helps, an apple is usually about half a tin."


    "Strange," Xuhitana comments thoughtfully. "Those bullets were examined by our artificers. They are not so simple as to be such a price. The compounds in them alone should be worth several bars if taken from an entire set."


    Well, that explains the missing bullets. Half the magazine is missing, now I know why.


    I add another one of those overpressure magazines, one of those ration packs since talking about food is making me hungry, and then, after some thought, scroll through the ammunition list a bit further. An elemental set catches my eye.


    Magic bullets?!


    I slide three magazines whose description brags about their explosive incendiary magic charge into my cart, bringing my total up to seventy-five points, or fifteen tins if my math is still any good.


    Before I can select Check Out, a pop-up opens, emblazoned with the title, "FIRST TIME BUYER?!"


    I''m almost annoyed that the virtual RPG system in my head is as plagued with ads and aggressive sales tactics as an actual web page, but stop when I realize what it''s touting.


    For New Customers Only:


    Add this stylish leather holster and belt combo to your cart now for only 25 points!


    Guaranteed to fit your pistol of choice AND your waist, whether you''re going summer svelte or thoroughbred thunder thighs!


    Our patented Heavenly<sup>TM</sup> treated leather will endure any environment, endless miles of dusty road and years of use without ever fraying or growing brittle!


    Comes with two watertight, sealable pouches for spare magazines and snacks! Upgrade to even more at any time for a proper utility belt! Additional pouches sold separately.


    Hold your most trusted piece in the hands of angels and purchase your Heavenly Holster today!


    ... A little suspicious that it costs exactly my remaining points, but kudos for the cheeky sales pitch. And I do need a holster. I can''t imagine getting a custom one from a regular store for the equivalent of five bucks.


    After only a little trepidation, I add it to the pile and trade forty apples'' worth of points for over a hundred bullets, a new belt and a snack.


    After I complete the purchase, a dim light appears in front of me and forms into a wooden box made of thin paneling.


    Yorin''s eyes widen at the size. "How many bullets did you buy?!"


    "Just over a hundred," I admit, "but less than half of them are for this fight. Since I don''t have any, I wanted some in reserve. Most of this is probably the belt."


    "Belt?"


    Instead of answering, I open the box, revealing my entire order in precisely stacked and sorted sections. The bullets are already even in their own magazines, ready to pop right into the gun. I can immediately tell the fire bullets from the regular ones. Aside from the fact there''s one more magazine of the latter, the fire bullets have red heads, a red strip down the side of the magazine, and a red base so that I can tell what type is loaded even at a glance.


    I grab the extra magazine of regular bullets and casually toss them at Xuhitana, who catches the metal bar in one hand effortlessly despite the look of surprise on her face.


    "Make sure your artificers keep them away from open flame or strong heat if they value having two eyeballs."


    I pull out the ration pack, which looks a lot like an MRE bag, rip it open and pull out a pack of preserved meat. I see a thing of dried fruit, too, and toss that to Feng, who doesn''t catch it with nearly the grace of his mother.


    The first strip of meat goes in my mouth and I have to give it a good tear to get a bite off. "Wow," I marvel as I chew, "that is the blandest jerky ever. Tastes like it was made in a dehydrator."


    I toss the rest of the strip in my mouth, anyway, and pull out the belt. The leather''s supple and the inside has a felt texture to it. The buckle looks like it''s maybe brass, but it''s hard to tell in our current light.


    There''s two pouches already attached to it, opposite the holster, each long enough to fit magazines and deep enough to comfortably fit four or five of them. The flaps press down with a single finger and completely seal themselves, but then easily open when I peel them back again.


    I slip my pistol into the holster and snap the securing strap into place over it, then pull the belt up behind me as I stand to my feet. Despite my own improvised outfit, the belt slides around my waist like it was meant to be there, and once I buckle it in place, it doesn''t shift around nearly as much as my sense of reason thinks it should.


    Yorin''s face lights up with recognition as I begin testing drawing the weapon. "Oh! It is the sling!" She turns back to the empress as if to enlighten her. "Remmi explained this to me! It is not slinging like with a stone, but from the sling, like your sheathe! She says that Gunslingers even have a similar quick draw art!"


    That seems to catch Xuhitana''s attention as she starts to pay closer attention to how I am drawing. "A quick draw art using a ranged weapon? Intriguing. Hero Remmi Lee, are you suitably prepared now?"


    "Yes!" I exclaim, my spirits higher than they''ve been since my arrival in this world. "Sorry about the wait!"


    "It''s no trouble," she assures me as she makes a motion with her hand and red eyes begin to light up in the scarecrows. "Every archer needs her quiver. Begin at your initiative."


    A grin splits across my face as I turn toward those twiggy bastards and raise that familiar weight toward them.


    Never point your gun at anything you don''t intend to destroy. It''s a common rule of gun safety taught to all gunners, civilian and military alike.


    Well, I intend to destroy the fuck out of these clowns, and a familiar thunderclap envelops me.

 Chapter 12 - Success

    Chapter 12


    Success


    *Xuhitana*


    The last rumblings die down and I''m grateful for the forethought to have Master Yorin put up a sound barrier around the courtyard. That display would have thrown the whole capitol into a frenzy, thinking we were under attack.


    The artificers had said that the artifact was loud, to the point several had to see healers for tinnitus. Their words did not adequately prepare me, though I can''t think what they could have said that would. I can only imagine how much worse it must have been in the enclosed laboratories.


    Feng, Heavens bless him, had watched the entire thing as enraptured as he had been at his first fireworks display.


    The regular shots had been loud enough, and each shot shattered rune-reinforced wood into splinters. The fire bolts were even worse, each one exploding into a sphere of flame with a lifespan of only half an instant, yet the heat set everything on fire that the blast hadn''t knocked clear.


    The girl didn''t move like she had earlier in the day, either. She didn''t just dodge the attacks that managed to reach her. She danced around them, spinning and jumping and prancing as if she were a gymnast in a parade instead of a warrior on the battlefield.


    I am familiar with the Battle Rhythm art and have even heard its drums in my own ears, but for most, it is only a temporary event. Bards describe it as the Heavens descending to fight alongside you. To the best of my knowledge, only select sects of Martial Artists can learn it as an actual skill.


    Obviously, I can''t know for certain if she has done so, but either way, she is certainly the youngest and lowest level I''ve ever seen attune themselves to it, and so easily. Her Agility, though monstrous for her level, isn''t as high as the other Heroes, but you couldn''t have told it from the way she moved. She never needed to dodge the attacks, because she simply wasn''t there in the first place.


    Having seen her fight before and now, I can see where there were times she almost did this during the Reviews, and I remember thinking then that she had good instincts. Now, I know that she was incomplete with that crossbow. I was watching a warrior fight with only one arm.


    But tonight, this wasn''t a life or death struggle at all. It had been a slaughter, and the butcher is still dancing amid the charred and smoldering remains.


    I look behind me and up to a dark window. I know Kouga is watching from there, too, but I don''t need to get his opinion. It''s as irrelevant as my own. I smile as I realize there''s only one thing I can do.


    And I raise a hand to get the butcher''s attention as I call out her name.


    *Remmi*


    <hr>


    You have found victory where once you failed


    and proven you are a true Hero.


    +1,000 Points


    <hr>


    Well, that''s worth celebrating enough all on its own! That''s like 3,200 bullets! And speaking of bullets, those fire spell bullets went above and beyond, wow! Every shot was like one of Benarou''s fireballs going off!


    And finally showing those stupid scarecrows what for after they nearly killed me earlier is so deeply satisfying that I don''t have words for it. Heck, I''m not afraid to admit it now, but seeing that unstoppable, red-eyed bastard leaning over me, I think the only reason I wasn''t terrified was because my brain didn''t have the blood to spare.


    But this? This had been fun.


    "Hero Remmi Lee!"


    I turn at the sound of my name, halfway feeling like I''d forgotten the others were even there. I give an apologetic grin and holster my pistol - my pistol, that feels so good - before jogging over.


    "I''d say that went a lot better," I chime by way of greeting. I might be disgusted by myself with how childishly chipper I sound, but those endorphins have me far too high to care. "What do you think, Judge?"


    Yorin is beaming like she''s been vindicated, but Xuhitana''s expression is much more subdued.


    The Empress makes a show of looking me over. "You are not covered in your own blood, so yes, I would say it is an improvement. Given that the only change is the presence of the artifact, I must wonder how much of your success is due to it."


    "Oh, almost all of it, definitely."


    She blinks, surprised by my words. "That is ... very candid of you, Hero. You do realize that you are claiming that you contributed almost nothing to the battle?"


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    "You said it, yourself, Your Highness," I point out. "The only change is that I have a gun. Without it, it would''ve just been a repeat of earlier."


    I pat the sidearm for emphasis. "Where I come from, guns revolutionized warfare because they negated skill through sheer power and ease of use. One man, one girl, one child could kill a dozen veteran soldiers with just a gun and a little instruction. In fact, I''m certain that''s why I''m Level 1."


    Yorin finds her words first. "Setting aside for a moment how terrifying the military you just described must be, what do you mean, that''s why you''re Level 1?"


    I open my mouth to answer, but then reconsider. I tap my chin as I think of the right way to explain it.


    "Well, I don''t know what the other Heroes experienced when summoned, and maybe it''s just because I''m from outside the Essence System, so it didn''t have anything to go off of, but before I awoke in the temple, I was in the sky."


    "The sky?" the Empress asks.


    "Far, far up," I confirm. "Further than should be possible. I couldn''t even see the planet beneath me, which should have put me deep into space, but somehow, I was still in the atmosphere, surrounded by sky and clouds."


    Yorin stops me this time. "I''m sorry, Remmi, but you are saying strange things again. Planet? Space? Please remember that the Essence is translating for you, so even if these are common words to both of us, as I feel they might be, however you are using them is describing concepts we don''t possess."


    I close my eyes and scold myself for getting carried away like that. "I''m sorry. It doesn''t matter. I''m just saying that I was in an impossible place. When I was there, I was asked questions by a dialogue box resembling the status screens. One of the things that it asked me was to define what power meant to me. I believe this was meant to determine my class."


    "I see," the empress replied thoughtfully. "And because your people define power relative to your guns, it tied the majority of your heroic power to your artifact instead of increasing your stats?"


    "Exactly," I nod. "In fact, in the description of my Hero trait, the stat increase is crossed out and instead, the listed benefit is a unique class and my gun as a boon."


    She rubs her chin as she considers that for a moment, but then sighs. "I understand why it happened, but I fear you may have simply made things more difficult on yourself. Growing within the System is a pursuit of personal growth through exertion. Relying on tools can only stunt that growth. As a Hero, your innate ability to spend points directly can mitigate a great deal of that, but at the very least, you are on a path contrary to everyone around you."


    I''m silent for a moment as I take her words in, but ultimately shake my head. "It doesn''t really matter. I couldn''t change it now if I wanted to, and I don''t think I''d want to if I could. It''s the way of my people, and the only one I know."


    Xuhitana nods in understanding and gives a small smile. "Then a word of advice on how to proceed. A lot of people assume that the way to increase your martial power is through raising raw strength, and it''s not without good cause. Higher strength lets you swing a sword harder or draw a heavier bow. But that''s not always the only way. Many classes, usually Martial Artists, can increase their power by raising their Agility because of how they fight."


    She reaches down and puts her hand over where I now know there to be a concealed sword. "If your arts are truly related to my own, then you should also follow that path. As a class with a focus on Quick Draw arts, I see more gains from increasing my speed than through raw power."


    I get a hopeful gleam in my eye. "Does that mean you''re recognizing me as a Hero?"


    She smiles, but instead of answering, she pulls a gold coin from within her robes and hands it to me. I turn it over in my hand as I realize it''s one of the coins just like the other Heroes got. On one side is a crest I assume is for the empire.


    ... And on the other is a gun?!


    Xuhitana chuckles at my face. "Coins are crafted uniquely for each Hero, with the back side pressed with an emblem to represent their distinct abilities. I had the forger use a silhouette of the heavenly artifact."


    I''m still marveling at the coin when another thought strikes me. "Wait, do I still get the land? I don''t mean to sound greedy; I still don''t have anywhere else to go."


    "I was hoping you would ask," the empress replies, one arm crossed over her abdomen and the other hand raised up beside her face. "I chose that land deliberately. Even if you couldn''t keep up with the other Heroes yet, I saw your growth as pre-ordained.


    "The region is considered an area of relatively low risk, and offers mostly redundant resources. That is to say, it is not of strategic importance, so our generals would not direct the Heroes toward it over other, more critical regions. It is, however, of great personal importance to me."


    I stare at her flatly, dumbfounded a bit at the intended manipulation. "So a Not-Hero was actually a pretty great boon for you, then. Rather than a disappointment, you had a Hero you could deploy off the books."


    She''s not bothered in the least. "Miss Lee, the future of humanity, and perhaps all civilization, rests on the shoulders of the Heroes. Even those that may require more investment than the others. I will not deny nor apologize for the fact that a rejected Hero can be moved more freely than one embraced by the imperial nobles, and I have been open about my self-interest in the matter."


    The raised hand comes down to point at me. "Even if I had no interest in the region at all, such a place remains ideal for forming the foundation of your growth, which you still require even now. Your power may not be lacking, but in terms of development, you still lag leagues behind the other Heroes. A plot of land is a small price to see that gap closed, if you''ll go along with it. I will send Master Yorin with you to act as your advisor and my intermediary."


    The priestess smiles knowingly. If they planned this ahead of time, then it''s no wonder she was planning tomorrow''s schedule like I''d already been assigned to her. That was exactly what had happened.


    I furrow my brow, though. "Why tell me your intent at all, then? Why not just say yes and send me on my way like you intended in the first place?"


    "Because before tonight, you were just a promising adventurer that might one day stand alongside the other Heroes. Now, you are one, and deserve to know the sort of mission you are being sent on."


    "Which is?"


    "Go there, make a home for yourself, get to know the locals. Help them with their problems and grow stronger." Her gaze turns deathly serious. "And if the darkness finds that dear, precious land, I want you to put a bullet in its head."

 Chapter 13 - Dress

    Chapter 13


    Dress


    "Is it really okay for you to come with me, though? Don''t you have, like, temple stuff to do?"


    Yorin gives me an understanding smile as we make our way down the surprisingly crowded early morning street. Shopkeepers are already all set up, but it feels like much of the city is trying to get first pick at the best deals, or perhaps make purchases before starting their own work days.


    Despite having breakfast at the temple, I''ve already had an apple that was too red and shiny to resist and am just finishing off a buttery pastry whose smell enticed me.


    "The Grand Temple isn''t my residential site, Remmi," she explains. "In fact, I don''t have one at all. I am what is called an itinerant priest, I go where I am needed." Her smile widens. "If anything, Sacred Genstai will be happy to see me gone. To have me there so long already, I am sure he feared I was intended to replace him. I am certain the temple in Dabun will have ways I can serve. And if there is no temple, well, it''s been a while since I''ve gotten to start one."


    "So that''s it?" I ask. "You just drop your entire life and go because she said so?"


    "... That is ... usually what happens when your empress tells you to do something, yes," Yorin drawls as she looks at me sideways as if I''ve asked something incredibly stupid, and I guess I did. "Though for her, I would do it, anyway. Why? Is that not how imperial edicts work where you are from?"


    "Ah, I, uh, wouldn''t know," I stammer, rubbing the back of my head. "Never got one. We''re a constitutional republic."


    "Ah," she says, like that explained something deep. "My condolences."


    My eyebrow goes up and I tilt my head away from her. "What''s that supposed to mean?"


    But instead of answering, she bounds ahead another building and a half. "Hey, look, Remmi, we''re here!"


    Yorin''s favorite clothier is a fanciful building of dark red wood with filigree of a yellow metal. It might be gold, but surely it''s not. Even if that weren''t ludicrously ostentatious, someone would come along and strip it off in the night, I''m certain. A second floor can be seen, but I doubt it''s part of the store. Almost all of the stores in this area have a second floor similar to it, so I''m betting it''s either a workshop, storage or the owner''s home.


    Yorin is standing next to the sign, so I go over to it and look it over. Not for the first time this day, I realize that I don''t recognize the language it''s written in, but I know what it says all the same.


    "''Crow''s Clothier - Lavish Looks for All Lanes of Life.'' A lover of alliteration, likely."


    The priestess smiles brightly at that. "Oh, he''s going to like you, Remmi. Come, come!"


    But when she pushes the door open, we get two steps in before I really don''t like what I see.


    "Oh. Hey," I greet that stupid dandy flatly. "What was your name again? Under Secretary?"


    He looks as shocked to see us, but scrunches up his face in anger at my words. "That''s Interior Secretary, you straw-haired street-walker! And it''s my occupation, not my name!"


    But I just sigh tiredly, as if he''s not worth it. "Yeah, yeah, look at the blonde girl with no pants, woo hoo. Why do you think I''m here, genius? I want some real clothes."


    "Then you should look somewhere else!" he decrees, even raising his nose to me as he crosses his arms. "Might I suggest starting somewhere a useless reject and a leaf muncher can actually afford? Perhaps a dumpster in the slums outside the city wall?"


    Now he''s starting to get on my nerves again. I give Yorin a tense smile. "So am I allowed to shoot him in the kneecap now, or ..."


    But she just gives me that patient motherly smile back instead. "You are allowed to do whatever you think you can justify to an imperial investigation team."


    "What a laughable concept! A broken review contender stuck at Level 1, attacking me?! If you had any idea the heights of sorcery at the fingertips of one such as I, the sheer magnitude of our level difference, the depths of arcane secrets provided to me by--"


    "That''s really big talk for a Level 14."


    "What?!"


    He finally brings his nose down far enough to see me smirking with my index and thumb beside my right eye at a 90-degree angle like half a finger frame.


    "What do you think you''re doing?!"


    "Just checking out how full of hot air you are," I reply. "And you''re no sorcerer, either. Oh, that''s a telling trait. Explains so much."


    "What is it?" Yorin asks innocently, but I''m sure she''s playing along.


    The dandy, however, clearly has no idea that I can''t actually see his traits with Identify. Which makes it especially satisfying to know he actually does have an embarrassing one, if his reaction is any indication.


    My imagination is madly churning out ideas of what it might be even as he lunges at me with a desperate sort of fury, as if he might stop me from voicing it.


    ... And trips over my outstretched leg to fall right into the cobblestone outside the door we just stepped through.


    "Oops!" I exclaim, pulling my arms up against my chest. "I''m only a silly Level 1, I barely know where my body is half the time! Oh no!"


    He yanks himself up off the ground with a growl as his mana begins to flow around him. "You wench! I''ll do the empire a favor and clean it of your disgrace here and now!"


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    The water swirling around his right fist disrupts and scatters as my pistol erupts with a bang and he collapses into the street again, a dozen roosting birds taking to the skies at the sudden noise. I raise the barrel toward my lips to blow off the gunsmoke, flip the safety back on and drop it back into its holster.


    "So that''s a Gunslinger''s quick draw art," Yorin wonders. "I can see the similarity you spoke of. You even pull against the sling similarly to Xuhi. But was it wise to shoot the Interior Secretary?"


    "Eh, he''ll be fine. Turns out my class has some really great nonlethal options," I reply as I shut the door behind us, leaving the dandy outside, sprawled in the street as his limbs twitch with rigor in his paralysis.


    "I never liked him, anyway," a man''s voice comes from deeper in the store. "Attacking a Level 1 is an excellent excuse to ban him once and for all, as is calling my very first customer a leaf muncher."


    We round the displays to see a bear of a man dressed in an ornate robe and wearing a pincushion on his hip like it''s a sheath. "Yorin, always a pleasure to see you," he greets the priestess. "Don''t let any court jester tell you that you are ever unwelcome in my store. What can I do for you today?"


    "This is your store?" I can''t help but ask as I look around. More ornate clothing than I''ve seen since the reviews fills every corner of my sight, all in carefully selected colors and stitched with delicate devotion. "You made all this?"


    This is apparently a question he gets a lot, and he laughs it off easily. "Do not judge a scroll by its seal, young lady. I may not hesitate to go hunt my own supplies, but despite appearances, I am, above all, an artist first and foremost!" He gives a dramatic bow at his waist. "Jentas Crow, at your service. Any friend of Yorin is gladly welcome. I''ll even shave off the thirty percent newcomer markup, just for you!"


    I give a laugh back at the obvious joke. "Well, it''ll be hard to turn down a sales pitch like that! I just hope you have what we need!"


    He acts like he''s just suffered a heart attack, stumbling back with his hand over his chest. "Yorin, what have you been telling this girl?! To put it in her head that there may be a style I cannot accommodate! I thought our long years of business meant more to you than that!"


    "It is not so much an issue of style, Jentas," she corrects him with stern patience, "but a concern if anyone might be able to meet her unique equipment requirements from ready stock."


    "Unique, hm?" he muses, scratching at a thick beard as he looks me over. "Ah, yes, the pants, I seem to recall that being mentioned in your exchange in my doorway."


    "Not only are you the best," she adds, "I considered you the most likely in all the capitol to meet her needs, and the throne is paying for it."


    His bushy eyebrows raise at that. "The throne?!"


    She gestures me toward the clothier with her eyes and I pull out the gold coin and present it to him.


    "This isn''t money," he observes as he turns it over under a scrutinizing gaze. "Isn''t this one of the badges of office handed out to the Heroes?"


    "It is exactly that," Yorin confirms, and motions to me. "Today, we are shopping for essential equipment for Remmi Lee, the Gunslinger Hero."


    He looks down to my holster at that, then back up at me. "Uh-huh. Well, you''re in luck, Miss Hero! I''ve never heard of a Gunslinger before today, but if pants are the problem--"


    "She can''t wear long robes, either," Yorin beats him to it. "Apparently, it feels like being encased in concrete."


    "What''s concrete?"


    "I don''t know. Presumably, something stiff and extremely hard to move through."


    "You got armor?" I insert into their banter.


    Crow laughs again. "Little lady, I carry anything that could conceivably be worn on the humanoid body!"


    "Even a small selection of imported jewelry," Yorin confirms as if she''s bragging on her own shop.


    But he waves it away. "Purely cosmetic, useless for an adventurer. You won''t be able to claim a new set of earrings on your shiny throne invoice." He looks me over again. "Though come back when you are rich on your own merits, eh, girl? I''ve got a gold pair inset with sapphires that would fit your eyes perfectly."


    I look down at my sandals, then back up to him. "Boots?"


    He frowns at that, though. "Eh, boots, not so much, unless they''re specific to the outfit. Beshia, she is the cobbler down the street. Lovely lady, retired adventurer, owns a very big ax. I don''t particularly want her cross with me, like she would be if she thought I was stepping in on her territory. Happy neighbors are good for business, you understand? Especially happy neighbors with very big axes."


    Yorin motions me away. "Remmi, you should go look through his selection, see if anything looks compatible to you. Even if it is not armor, it will tell us the direction we need to move in. I will go over your needs as I understand them with Jentas and call for you if there are any questions."


    I nod and head off, and soon their back and forth, which frankly sounds only tangentially about my armor needs, drifts into the back of my mind as I soak in the array of styles and designs that surround me.


    Crow really is talented. Some of his more daring designs even almost look pre-modern, though a lot of the experiments come off as just strange, strange enough he doesn''t even bother marking some of them for sale. None of them, however, even the strangest among them - some sort of half robe that looks made for a barbarian with a fondness for pink and lace - actually look bad. Just ... I can''t see anyone I''ve met since waking up here actually wearing it. Not that that''s a particularly large sampling, I know.


    But then I see it, and I stop dead in my tracks.


    "Remmi? Remmi!"


    I don''t know how long I was standing there, but Yorin looks worried when I startle out of it and turn back to her.


    "Oh, sorry, Yorin. What were you saying?"


    "We were asking you to try on some light armor variants."


    "Oh, that''s not necessary," I say as I turn back to what stopped me. I step toward it with my arms wide as if to embrace it. "I already found exactly what I need."


    It''s actually a similar blue to the robes the temple gave me, which I suppose I''ve become rather attached to, with black highlights not unlike my ropes, but the leather is soft to the touch and brown, forming a tough breastplate and small shoulder pads that won''t hinder any of my movement, as well as bracers and a pair of boots that I just know will be as comfortable as they are rugged.


    But the outfit ... oh, the outfit ... It''s a blue short dress that comes down to just past the mannequin''s thighs, with stockings coming up underneath. It''s cute and modern without making me think I''d look like an eyesore for being too out of place.


    Crow comes over as well. "You like that?" he asks in surprise. "I only made it after being struck by the strangest sense of inspiration that ever came over me, just a few days ago. Only finished and put it out last night, in fact."


    "Is the armor on it good," I ask, "or is it just for show like it is?"


    His chest fills his upper robes to bursting with his pride. "I don''t make anything just ''for show,'' little lady. Aside from sizing, everything you see is ready to wear out the door. It''s just strange you picked out such an experimental piece."


    "Does that mean you didn''t give it a name?"


    At his confused look, I turn to Yorin. "Can I show people an Identify screen like I can my status?"


    At her nod, I do the swirl thing with the window I''ve opened over the clothes. The one that shows its name as "Gunslinger Outfit."


    There''s a moment of silence as they stare at it, then Yorin looks to Crow. "I believe the Temple would call this Divine Providence."


    Ten minutes later, we''re on our way back out the door. The two of them were shocked again when it didn''t even need resizing, it fit me like a glove. Poor Crow had his pin and measuring tape half raised and looked dejected at the realization, like it was a sacred part of the sales process he was getting robbed of. He charged us a hundred bars, insisting it was technically a unique custom piece, but threw in a nice backpack for me to stow the temple''s robes in.


    The dandy has recovered by the time we emerge back into the daylit street, and he starts ranting all over again, throwing out all sorts of threats and curses I don''t really listen to. So I shoot him again with another Paralysis round and Yorin and I go grab an early lunch before we head to meet with the Empress for our carriage out of the capital.

 Chapter 14 - Beginnings

    Chapter 14


    Beginnings


    I''m really glad I listened to Yorin when she suggested I take the time to pick out a couple good books for the trip south. The empire''s roads are wide and well maintained, and the carriage, even though it''s sized for one horse, has plenty of room for two girls to spread out when they''re the only passengers.


    But horses are slow!


    They''re not supposed to be, are they? Aren''t they this whole concept of speed? Well, apparently not at a casual trot and pulling a box on wheels.


    No, that''s not fair. They''re not slow. The horse is merely maintaining a pace suited for distance over speed. If we suddenly had to rush, the horse is fully capable of much higher speeds, but only for a time.


    At the given pace, though, we''ll be two weeks getting to Dabun, the town the Empress is sending us to. Hence the books. Which, surprisingly, were a pretty common thing in the capitol. Apparently, making them was more labor intensive than resource draining, so magic made their mass production as easy as the printing press.


    I consider myself a fairly average reader in terms of speed, but Yorin panicked that I was going through my first book too fast when I got through the first half-dozen chapters in one sitting, and we made a point to pick up a few more in cities along the way.


    She tried to convince me to make one of them the temple''s holy book, claiming it would help me relate to the people better, but I begged out, imagining the dull slog that seemed to define every holy book back home. This trip is going to be long enough as it is.


    But we don''t spend the entire time reading. There''s breaks, of course, times for the horse to rest and drink while we have a bite to eat, ourselves, or stretch our legs. And we spend most nights at inns and stations along the way. We even take the time for Yorin to teach me a few local card games we can play mostly from the hand.


    What we do more than anything else, though, is talk, or rather, Yorin does. She''s taking the opportunity of the trip to make sure I know everything I need to know about the Serazin province Dabun resides in. She covers local culture, taboos, seasonal festivals, primary produce and exports, and the history of the ruling noble family, as well as that of the governing family of Dabun, itself. She sprinkles in spontaneous quizzes on particular details even when we''re talking about other things, usually under the guise of idle conversation, to make sure the information is sticking.


    For my part, when I choose the topic, it''s usually about technological advancements from home. At first, it was combustion engines and aeronautics that would have made the trip over and done with already. As the trip goes on, however, I spend more and more of it focusing in on things like steel spring shock absorbers, suspensions and the value of inflated rubber tires.


    The cushions in the carriage are soft and luxuriantly padded, to be sure, but while the road may be wide and well maintained, it''s not exactly asphalt. It''s mostly a dirt road composed primarily of gravel and sand. Easy to maintain for long distances without need for fancy supplies, but rarely perfectly flat. The solid wood carriage wheels relay every bump, every time stone shifts away from the wheel''s weight, every jostle and shift right up into the carriage, itself, until I feel like I''m going to shake apart.


    There are surely rougher rides, and if it were for a day or two, I doubt I''d care, but two weeks is a long time.


    Yorin listens attentively to these rants, and seems to seriously consider them. Obviously, I''m not the only one the promise of a smoother ride appeals to. Unfortunately, she says that I should speak with a wheelwright when we get to Dabun. Reworking the carriage we''re already in to such a degree would be too great a task for any station post to finish in a timely manner.


    And so the journey continues. Lessons, diatribes and a dwindling selection of books fill my time. The two blessings are that the relatively heavy weight of sand and gravel compared to regular dirt means that at least we aren''t eternally choked by road dust, and that the weather remains fairly mild throughout the trip. The couple times we meet rain, we just close up the sides of the carriage and carry on. The carriage is even insulated, so there''s not even any chill or damp to concern ourselves with.


    By far, the worst part is the lack of excitement. At first, admiring the beautiful country side was nice, but miles and miles of it quickly made it far less interesting. I was actually looking forward to the idea of attacks by monsters and bandits, but the vast majority of the trip is over what is essentially the equivalent of an interstate highway, and it''s extensively patrolled to ensure its safety. We aren''t even really out of touch with the capitol, as every way station has runners just waiting to carry Yorin''s regular updates back with any other mail or packages anyone might have.


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    It''s all far more ... civilized than I expected. I hate to phrase it that way because it makes it sound like I thought poorly of them, but the truth is I was simply once again misled by fiction, where wagons like ours are regularly waylaid in the vast tracks of untamed wilderness between isolated villages. After she finishes laughing at me, Yorin sums it up succinctly.


    "That sounds like a great way to set up an exciting story, but a poor way to manage a stable society."


    Even at pit stops, practicing with my gun is obviously not an option for fear of startling the horse. Every night, I strip and clean that pistol to get the day''s dust off of it and make sure the road hasn''t rattled anything loose. The first time she saw me start disassembling the "heavenly artifact," I swear Yorin nearly had a heart attack, but it doesn''t even draw a blink from her now, beyond her own attempts to commit every component and step to memory.


    It''s not that it''s strictly necessary for me to clean and oil it so often, as there really isn''t that much dust on the road, but the alternative is it just sitting there as an unforgettable weight on my hip. After ten days, even that becomes unbearable and I finally demand the horse and driver take a day off and we take a day for a makeshift range.


    Yorin indulges me with that motherly smile and watches me with a studying gaze, but turns down trying the weapon out for herself when I offer.


    And then finally the day comes when we crest a rise in the road and catch our first glimpse of Dabun. It''s bigger than I expected, but not by a whole lot. I figured a village like what Yorin and the empress had described to me would maybe have fifty people, tops, would be comprised of simple log cabins and dirt roads, and the closest thing to a doctor in the place would be the town butcher.


    Again, I''m shamed.


    Dabun isn''t big, at least not by my reckoning, but it''s what my world would call a small town, a place big enough to have its own supermarket and maybe a public school on the outskirts. Perhaps a gas station that doubles as a restaurant.


    Of course, none of that is actually here. The town of perhaps several hundred people looks straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting if the man did Asiatic landscapes instead of British ones. A cool morning mist that probably isn''t nearly as thick down there as it looks from here swirls around its buildings, and a massive wooden wall that manages to look more charming than militaristic surrounds it. From here, I can see the gray of the town''s cobblestone roads, and the chimneys are just starting to smoke. Outside the wall is a mix of farms and a light forest.


    Yorin takes the opportunity to point out a clearing in the forest on the opposite side of the town from us. "Do you see that, Remmi? We need to meet with the Mayor first, but that area is where your land is going to be. It isn''t ready farmland, and it''s gone wild without occupation for a decade or so, but that also means you''ll be able to do whatever you want with it."


    I grew up surrounded by woods, so rather than seeming like poor real estate, I find the prospect enticing. I probably won''t want to do all of the work myself, but I did see some tool proficiencies in my general skills tab. It might be fun to do at least some of it with my own two hands.


    And, honestly, it''s probably the only way I''m going to get a modern, western style home. Though on second thought, maybe getting at least some of the local flavor could be nice. It would make guests feel more welcome.


    As we come down the slope toward the village, we start seeing its primary produce - horned rabbits. Yorin had told me a great deal about the little guys. About the size of a small dog, horned rabbits are notably bigger than the rabbits I''m familiar with, which don''t seem to exist within the empire, and are technically a species of monster. Because of their low aggression and general weakness, however, they made excellent candidates for livestock.


    Nearly every part of the horned rabbit''s body is useful for something. The meat is a staple of the local diet, the fur is both soft and resistant to the elements, making it good for both utilitarian and fashionable clothing, and its horn has properties that make it valuable in everything from medicine to low level enchantment.


    They also breed, well, like rabbits, meaning exhausting them basically isn''t possible. In fact, the domesticated population long ago flooded back into the wild population, and nobody apparently cared. They just ramped up harvesting until nearly all other hunting and meat livestock became irrelevant. And long generations of being both domesticated by the locals and freely mixing with those that are have made them overly comfortable with the presence of humanoid beings. So much so that they''re even sold to other, wealthier regions as exotic pets.


    In other words, there''s a lot of them. I was told this, but Yorin''s words didn''t prepare me for the sheer volume that vague value represents. They aren''t overrunning the place, but the closer we get, the easier it is to spot them, and rather than running away from our carriage, most of them peek over the grasses more in curiosity than anything.


    The front gate through the town walls is wide open, and not only is there only a single guard out front, he''s more interested in playing with some nearby rabbits than in evaluating us. All he does is look up, grin and give us a wave of greeting.


    I look to Yorin, but she doesn''t act like anything''s out of place at all. Instead, she gives me that motherly smile that looks so out of place.


    "Let me guess, also not like your books? Remmi, there is little of threat out here, and certainly not from a one horse carriage. There is no reason for him to think we are anything but visitors."


    "And no entry tax?"


    She looks at me funny there. "Why would you want to discourage visitors and clients by charging them for even entering?"


    I shrug. "Road maintenance?"


    The priestess sighs and shakes her head. "Maybe I should have lectured you more on common economic practices ..."


    Ah well, I let it roll off my shoulders as the carriage passes the wall and enters the city proper. I go back to gawking like I did when we first left the capitol, delighted at the presence of homey, local enterprises. There''s a bakery, a blacksmith, a wheelwright - I remind myself to visit that one about the carriage remodel - and a number of produce merchants up and down the main street. Many have some variant of horned rabbit on their signage.


    Yeah, I decide, this feels good. Finally, a proper place to start an adventure.

 Chapter 15 - Omens

    Chapter 15


    Omens


    *Leuke*


    The capitol was wild.


    I feel like if I wasn''t a Hero, it wouldn''t have been so intense, but on the other hand, if I wasn''t a Hero, I don''t know that I could have afforded it, either. Everything was so fancy, everyone was dressed so well, and every bit of food was so expensive.


    I probably would have starved if there hadn''t been an army of nobles begging to pay for everything.


    Well, okay, we were only there for three days, so starved is a little strong, but I would''ve gotten really hungry. Still, Captain''s always telling me I shouldn''t exaggerate.


    But wow, nobles are really big fans of Heroes. I mean, sure, everyone loves Heroes, everyone grows up hearing stories about them, every little boy claims to be one when playing pretend. But nobles? Nobles are crazy for them. I''d never have thought it, I always thought nobles only had, like, two emotions, and that all others were trained out of them for not being snooty enough.


    All I did was break a few training dummies, though, and by the time we got out of the strategy meeting (I got scolded for saluting a general!), four girls were waiting outside begging me to marry one of them. Every one of them was beautiful, and all of them were the daughters of nobles.


    The only thing I could think of was how angry Captain would be if I went and got hitched to some girl I''d only just met like some sort of impulsive playboy, but they were all so insistent that I couldn''t get a word in. If Tash hadn''t come along and pulled me out of there, I''d probably have had to run.


    Thinking back on it now without all of the pressure, I can''t imagine marrying a girl that''s only interested in me because I''m a Hero could turn out very well, either.


    Tash was approached by someone, too, actually. A fat, bald man strolled over like he knew her, and whatever business they had was already decided, but she threw a weird gesture at him and walked off. Whoever the guy was, she clearly didn''t like him as much as he had thought she did.


    We ended up staying the night at Benny''s. Who, by the way, is a noble! And a super important one, too! His parents are diplomats, those people that go talk to other people to solve problems like war and trade issues. And his mom calls him Benny, too! It was great! Well, he didn''t think so.


    Obviously, his family''s going to support him as a Hero, but apparently only halfway? They''re going to let another noble family cover the other half as a way to strengthen bonds between them. I''d feel bad for Benny being sold out like a rental product by his own family, but it was his idea! And rather than feeling any shame, his parents praised him for his cunning.


    ... Maybe diplomats are a lot scarier than I thought.


    I''m not actually sure who''s sponsoring Sei. Apparently, there''s an alliance of noble houses with ties to the Temple, and because she''s a Theurgist, they took an interest in her as a group.


    We don''t look like a uniformed squad anymore, either, which is a little sad because that was neat, but we do look actually ready for combat. The best steelsmith in the capitol worked all night to get a full suit of armor ready for me. And he got paid for the extra effort, too. Minister Buradel probably could have just ordered it done, he''s such an important person, but he was excited to pay for it, like he wanted to impress me with how willing he was.


    Nobles. So weird. I never will understand them. Except Benny, he makes sense. But then, he and his family haven''t lost their heads over all this like so many others seem to have done. Though he still looks pretty silly in his long, fancy robes. I can''t decide if he looks like he''s on his way to a wedding or a carnival. But then, mages have weird fashion tastes. There''s one back home and she loves the same sack style. And, like Benny, doesn''t like me calling it that.


    I figured Sei would get armor like mine, since she''s got that weird mace flail and all, but she showed up in what I first thought were the white robes and red belt of the priesthood. On closer look, it''s actually a combat dress scribbled with verses worked into the print. I guess she needs more mobility than armor. She reminded me she has barrier magic when I brought it up, and I suppose that makes sense.


    I think Tash really stole the reveal this morning, though. A full suit of oil black leather armor with hooks for her Fangs'' scabbards and some other tools. She looked absolutely ready for action. I don''t know what all of her extra tools are, but I recognized a grapnel hand crossbow and some vials. Medicine, maybe?


    I thought the generals would just tell us what we needed to know and then let us go. I was even planning to head right back to Captain. Not only would she want to know what happened to me and why I''d gone and disappeared from my post, but I really wanted to make sure my home was safe first.


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    Not that I don''t intend to do everything I can for the rest of the empire, of course, and if there were a place in more urgent need, I''d go there first. But I''d feel a lot better traveling across the country if I knew the people I actually know are safe.


    Letting us go off does seem to be their general plan, but first, we''re going on some sort of trip before we all split up. Furinshao''s military leaders want us all to see the blight firsthand. I don''t know if it will make much sense to me, but they seem to think it will definitely make an impression. Some sort of motivation through fear to make us focus and take it seriously.


    The ride is long, even in the big, fancy coach we take from the capitol, and it''s being pulled by six horses! I feel bad for them because every time we change over to a new set, Lord Hagasu, the noble accompanying us, demands they be driven hard. The one mercy is that they probably have a good chance at recovering since he orders them swapped out again at the next stop as soon as they start to flag. He seems to value speed far more than the fact he''s going through horses much faster than necessary, or the harm to the beasts in the process.


    It makes for a very rough ride, honestly, and it didn''t take long before Sei was complaining of discomfort. Lord Hagasu insisted that speed was of the essence, however, and refused to slow, despite the girl being in enough pain that she spent most of the trip surrounding herself in the glow of her healing magic.


    Now that we''re here, I pause halfway up the hill from which we''ll be able to see the Western Demesne. Lord Hagasu isn''t with us and I look back to see him still at the base of the hill, though he remains a distance from the coach.


    "Lord Hagasu," I call, "aren''t you coming with us?"


    Long and thin, with eyes already large in his lean face looking even bigger behind his thick glasses, the man has reminded me of a beetle from the moment I first met him. His black robes kept tight around him make the resemblance all the stronger.


    "Oh, Champion," he answers back, his voice reedy, "I dare not! I am no Hero. My life depends on the head start should anything go wrong, heavens forbid." He shakes his head morosely. "No, that is an excuse. Please, do not ask me to look upon the land I once called home as it is now."


    Benny steps in at the confusion on my face. "Lord Hagasu was one of the landed nobles who oversaw the Demesne prior to the darkness. He and his family had to retreat to their capitol estate when their defenses fell. They were one of the last ones out of the region just over a year ago."


    My confusion changes to sympathy quickly and I give a nod. "I understand, sir. I''m sorry for being insensitive."


    He nods back, but says nothing more, and we head on up.


    My breath catches in my chest when I crest the ledge, and as the others come up behind me, I hear more than register them doing the same.


    The border of the Western Demesne is a visible line across the land as far as I can see. On our side, the trees and tall grass are green, the sky is blue and the air is clear. Down the other side of the hill perhaps a couple hundred meters from where we stand, the grass is a bruised purple and the leaves of the trees look like they''ve melted together in larger sheets the yellow of rot, the excess material running down the tips to pool into teardrop-shaped pustule fruits.


    The air is full of a roiling dark fog, not thick enough to obscure sight, but heavy enough that we can see it rolling up to collide against the line and retreat like the tide against a beach. Trying to erode the boundary between us and it a few grains of sand at a time.


    The worst part is that there''s life on the other side. Life I recognize but wish I couldn''t.


    A three-eyed buck raises its head from the bruise grass and blinks around at some sound or another, its rack twisted and gnarled and dripping black oil. The blade on its swishing tail must surely be a shock for any predator attempting to ambush it from behind.


    It doesn''t see the wolves watching it from another hill, their spines erupting down their backs like the blades of a lumber mill and their eyes a ruby red. The smaller second mouths within their main jaws drool with anticipation.


    In the other direction, I can see a rundown farm, the house in ill repair, the field overgrown with blood red thorns. I wish it was as abandoned as it looks.


    Through the Farsight skill I learned as part of the guard back home, I can see a man and two children in the field. They''re half bald as if from mange and their exposed skin is mottled with raised growths, but none of them seem ill or hindered from what looks like some sort of horrible plague.


    I watch as the bored daughter idles a bit away from the others and deliberately jabs her thumb onto one of the thorns, just to suck on the blood from the hole like a candy stick.


    The man is showing his son how to properly set some sort of body on a series of stakes. It''s so bloated and foul that it takes me a long moment to realize it''s a human corpse. That realization is followed by another as I take in the rest of the field and more of those stakes, most of them sporting hominids to ripen them in the sun like a jug of tea.


    I jerk my gaze away with a seizure of my neck as I fight to suppress the contents of my stomach.


    The Demesne is still full of life. The longer we watch, the more we see. Men, animals, birds, everything''s there, all of it crazy and wrong.


    A great bellow comes from behind us, like a deep horn. The sound makes me feel queasy and I lose my focus on Farsight as my eyes blur. The muscles in my shoulders clench. Somebody behind me barfs and I hear it slapping the ground at our feet.


    I turn around with a stagger like that time I tried to walk home after too much rice wine. Back where we came from, Lord Hagasu has begun to laugh, his eyes seeming to bulge even larger. Even as I stare, he inflates his chest like a balloon and squeezes it out, creating that horn sound again.


    Somebody else pukes. It takes me too long to realize it was me.


    Tash grips my arm hard enough to make the metal of my armor protest, but her arm''s shaking.


    "Leuke," she struggles to say, turning my attention back to the Demesne.


    The bellowing has drawn the attention of every lifeform we''ve managed to pick out, and they''re all working themselves into a frothing rage at the sound. Even more that we didn''t see come surging out of the edges of slag-dripping forests and shooting down from the sky. All of them coming together to stampede toward our position.


    Without even really thinking about how far they still are, I pull out Ryutaiji and hold the massive sword before me with drunken focus.

 Chapter 16 - Escape

    Chapter 16


    Escape


    *Tassim*


    I pull on Leuke''s arm again. "No, there''s too many ... we can''t ... can''t fight them all, not like this." I grimace as that soundwave passes through us again, causing my eyes and ears to swim, my muscles to cramp and my stomach to try jumping out of my mouth. "We''ve got to do something about that damn horn!"


    "It''s Lord Hagasu."


    I don''t know why I didn''t look back sooner, but one glance confirms his words. "By the Essence ... he''s one of them ..."


    I know what I should do. Or I know that I know what I should do. But my mind is sluggish. My feet feel like I''ll fall if I move them. I can''t remember how to tell my body to ask my brain what to do next.


    "Sei." Leuke''s speaking again, addressing the pearl-haired girl. The healer. Yes. My mind clues in on what he''s thinking a moment after he addresses her, but the girl needs to hear her name again before she can bring herself to focus on his face.


    "Sei," he says again, sharper, and her eyes stop moving around his face and focus on it. "Can you do something about it?" He hesitates and seems to remember he might need to specify. "We''re sick."


    Another brown note from Hagasu breaks her focus, and this time, I speak up. "The symptoms, girl." I try to put more confidence in my tone than I feel. I don''t know how close those things are, and I feel like I forgot they existed for a bit. Everything feels like I''m going to float away in a current. I force myself to take a breath. "Nausea. Disorientation. He''s doing something to our heads. Can you stop it?"


    Seina has to clamp her eyes shut to focus. "It ... there''s nothing ... nothing in our minds ... I don''t know ... it''s so hard ..."


    Leuke takes the opportunity to reach over and slowly clamp a hand on Benarou, to confirm where the man''s attention is, meets his eyes, nods, gets a short nod back. He''s rallying us, one at a time.


    He turns back to Seina. "Forget the caush." He tweaks his head and spits, then tries again. "Just get us fit ... fit to charge down the hill. You can do that. You can do that, Sei. You''re a Hero. You can do that."


    Down the hill? Into the horde? That''s suicide. Suicide while Hagasu is ... oh ...


    Another belting from the noble causes a migraine behind my eyes. Damn it, how is Mr. 25 thinking better than me?!


    The migraine clears and my stomach settles as light begins to radiate over us from Seina.


    "I ... I don''t know ... how long I ..."


    Right, the girl can''t treat herself while she''s treating us. Which means we need to act now.


    Damn it, Hagasu is inflating again. If he gets another belt off, it''ll disrupt Seina''s concentration!


    Benarou recovers first. His aim isn''t perfect, but the fireball lands close enough to freak the noble out.


    I draw my Luwei Fangs and slap Leuke on the arm. "Right behind you, Muscles."


    The boy nods back, then raises that stupidly huge sword and bellows back at that fucker, and we charge.


    Hagasu has the gall to look shocked and affronted that we''re running at him with killing intent, but he doesn''t look afraid. Maybe his mind''s too far gone, like everything on the other side of that ugly, purple line.


    "Have you all completely lost your minds?! Don''t you realize you''re attacking a major Imperial Noble?! Heroes or no, the Emperor will have your heads on pikes for such treasonous beha--"


    It''s like he doesn''t think we''ll actually do it, clear up until I pull his stomach open and Leuke takes his head clean off. Even as it rolls to a stop on the ground, it still stares up at us with blank disbelief.


    At least that means that the entire time we were charging down the hill, he wasn''t blowing out like a horn again, and Leuke and I are only alone at the bottom for a few moments before Benarou and Seina catch up.


    The short girl seems worse for wear, probably due to not having the symptoms cleared out with magic, but color is returning to her quickly enough. Unfortunately, it doesn''t seem like we''ll have the time to wait.


    "We''ve got to go," the battlemage insists emphatically. "Now. Or we''ll be overrun."


    Leuke quickly looks both ways, then bolts for the carriage. He hardly reaches it, however, before he swears, but wastes no time climbing up and throwing the coach hand off.


    I''ve seen a lot of blood, but even I almost turn away at the sight of the body and what Hagasu must have done to him after we got off.


    Somehow, Leuke manages not to dwell on the implications at all, that a man had been mutilated by a monster mere meters from the Heroes summoned to protect him and we hadn''t even known.


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    "Sei! I need you up front with me! I know it''s rough on you, but we''re going to have to push the horses! I need you making sure they don''t hurt themselves! Benny, cover our backs!"


    He gives the orders naturally, and I find myself surprised not to have any instructions of my own. I look around, but mentally slap myself to get my head back in the right mindset, and clamber into the back behind Benarou.


    I pull out my hand crossbow and begin changing out the grapnel bolt for one meant for combat. One I would dunk in poison if I wasn''t worried the coach would knock the vial all over the floor boards and drive us out with the fumes.


    "It''s not lightning," I tell the noble as I brace my shoulder against the rear seat, "but every bit will help."


    He nods back, and within another ten seconds, Leuke launches the coach into motion.


    Not a moment too soon as monstrosities crest the hill and begin pouring down its side, still rabid at the sight of us.


    They''re inhumanly fast, and we''re not pulling away from them nearly as quickly as we should be. Even when we round a bend in the road, it''s not long before they do so, as well. Benarou and I are spending most of our efforts shooting birds out of the sky, as they''re the quickest to close on our position, but if anything at all goes wrong with our escape, we won''t have time to come up with another plan before we''re overrun.


    And then I see him. I know Benarou has, too, when his spells lag and he swears in disbelief.


    We shouldn''t be able to see Lord Hagasu, even if we didn''t leave his body decapitated and disemboweled back there. He should be lost in the horrible menagerie behind us. Instead, he stands out clearly as his head bobs back and forth above the mob like a prop at the end of a spring.


    I can still see the cut where Leuke took his head off. Out of the base of that wound is a long, segmented neck, thinner than his own had been, black and shiny like an insect''s carapace. His glasses have fallen off, but his eyes are still too big for his head. He looks like he''s laughing, and I think I can only barely hear it over the racket of the monsters and the coach.


    When I see him inhale, I brace for another blast of that horn, but instead, words reach us despite the volume that must require. They''re broken, stilted. They no longer sound like they''re coming from a man, but some broken thing pretending to be one.


    "WHere aRE YOu goING, heroES?! YOU''re leAVINg me BEHIND!!! ThAT''s nOT veRY heROic!!!"


    And this time, we definitely hear his laughter.


    "SLow dOWN!!! WAIt foR ME!!!"


    There''s a break in the horde and I catch a glimpse of the rest of his body. Extra limbs have folded down out of where I opened him up so that he''s galloping after us on all six like some sort of twisted beetle-giraffe wearing a man''s face as a sack over its head.


    We''re coming into a valley that serves as a natural marker for separating the Western Demesne from the next province over, and I''m struck with an idea born of pure madness.


    I shoot my iron bolt into another bird, but the next one I load has a flared end wrapped like a torch. The whole end is stiff like it''s been dipped in wax.


    It''s not wax.


    I pull away from the back window and stick my head out the side door, attempting to aim the crossbow and pick the right section of cliff face.


    The moment I pull the trigger, the friction from the firing mechanism ignites the end of the flare bolt even as it goes shooting high into the rock of the cliff face. If it were night, the fizzing, whistling stick would be visible from a kilometer away. Even in the afternoon light, it''s blinding to look at directly.


    I pull my head back in and get Benarou''s attention, grabbing the hilt of his Staff of Six. "As soon as they reach that flare, hit that cliff with as big an explosion as you can cram through that stick, you hear me?!"


    He nods once. "I understand."


    I nod back to him, then lunge forward to shout up to the other two. "Big blast incoming! Don''t let the horses spook or we''ll get caught in it!"


    "We''re read--" Leuke starts, but then Benarou lets loose and the shockwave rips through our bodies. "HOLY SHIT!!!"


    He keeps a firm grip on the reins, though, and Seina never once loses her focus on keeping the horses calm and refreshed.


    I know their competence isn''t any doing of mine, but I feel proud of them all the same.


    I let myself fall back into the rear seat again, turning around to see if my crazy idea worked.


    Rubble is still falling, but the bulk of it has already crushed the horrible mob. I can even see Hagasu''s neck dangling out, and the way it''s bubbling, I''m pretty sure it really is broken this time.


    I let out a breath I''d only half consciously been holding and pat Benarou''s arm. "Don''t let us forget why you''re the battlemage, eh, noble boy?"


    "I aim to please." He pushes his glasses up with his free hand. "Besides, it was your idea."


    I just scoff and slump down in the seat again. How are they all so competent? I can''t help but question if I''ll really be able to keep up.


    In unspoken agreement and for no particular reason, we keep riding hard, as if those monsters might dig themselves out and jump upon us again at any moment. For good measure, I have Benarou blow the valley cliffs three more times before we''re clear of them.


    No one''s getting back to the Demesne by this route without a lot of manpower, and I can only feel like that''s a good thing.


    By the time we see an imperial waystation, it''s getting dark and it''s been an hour since we shot the last of the birds out of the sky. The coach starts to slow, and I don''t have to ask why. Just the sight has me feeling like we''re in the clear, and the adrenaline I''ve been riding feels like it flushes out of my system all at once.


    Sure enough, the horses only just stop as Leuke and Seina stumble into the coach proper, slumping against each other as they collapse into the deeply cushioned seat.


    "I know it''s right there," Leuke gasps tiredly. "It''s just, I ... Well, I figured the horses would like a breather ..."


    "Mmm," Seina agrees, and I''m pretty sure she''s already all but asleep. I wouldn''t be surprised if she''s nearly burned through all of her mana keeping the horses running all this time.


    "It''s alright," I groan as I force myself up against every protest my body can give me. "I''ll bring us in."


    "I can''t believe we did it," Leuke sighs before I can move past him. "We killed a capitol noble ..."


    My eyes harden, and I lean down to grip his shoulder. "No." I give him a shake to make sure I have his attention. "No, we did not." I look to the others, too, but only Benarou is listening. Seina is snoring, so I keep my statement at an indoor volume.


    "You get any thought like that out of your heads right now. We did not kill a capitol noble. We killed a monster that was posing as one, and the empire is better off for it."


    Once I have the two boys nodding their understanding, I climb up onto the driver''s bench, ignoring the sneering shade seated beside me. If she had any definition to her, she''d look exactly like me.


    "You''ve given that speech before, haven''t you," she mocks me as I ease the horses into a lazy walk.


    I don''t bother answering her rhetorical question, and she vanishes before the waystation''s torches can clearly illuminate the bench.


    Besides, it''s hard for her barbs to mean much when, for once in my life, those words are literally true.

 Chapter 17 - Kyuuga

    Chapter 17


    Kyuuga


    "Why is he glaring at me?"


    I''m in a staring contest with the angriest rabbit I''ve ever seen. I wouldn''t call him gigantic, but he''s definitely bigger than the others I''ve seen, too. Honestly, if he weren''t so angry, he''d be cute, with a thick, gray fur coat that looks incredibly soft, long, floppy ears, and an ivory horn as long as my hand.


    No, scratch that, even angry bunnies are adorable, but I''ve never seen one so directly mad at me.


    "Is that a glare?" Yorin inquires doubtingly. "I wasn''t aware rabbits were physically capable of such an expression."


    "It''s definitely a glare!"


    The rabbit thumps one foot down sharply, and I admittedly have a moment of panic when it puts a little crack in the cobblestone underneath.


    "Well, he''s definitely angry," the priestess agrees, "but I don''t think he has eyebrow muscles to glare with."


    Is she seriously splitting hare-- er, hairs with me right now? "Who knows, maybe it''s Essence translation! More importantly, why is it at me?! I only just got here, I haven''t done anything to him!"


    "Maybe that is also due to the Heavenly Essence," Yorin visibly muses, looking up and away as she cups her chin to imitate deep consideration. "Perhaps Hero Remmi Lee has a hidden Trait that causes conflict with males."


    "I seriously doubt that!"


    "No? It would explain the conflict with the Interior Secretary, as well, now that I consider it ..."


    I finally break gazes with the rabbit to turn and shout at the itinerant priestess. "Oh, come on, Yor--"


    "KYUU!!!"


    It''s in that exact moment that something strikes the side of my head and sends me skidding across the wide cobblestone road until I ram shoulder-first into the curb.


    A notification flits across my vision that I just lost ten hit points.


    By the time I raise myself up, that big rabbit is disappearing around the back of a building.


    "Yeah, you run away, you little turd!" I shout after him before I can really stop myself. "Cheap shot!"


    Yorin is looking me over as she helps me back to my feet, but it''s a man''s voice that chuckles at the scene.


    "Ah, you''ve already met Kyuuga, I see."


    I turn to see an older man dressed in a nice robe that isn''t as fancy as what the nobles in the capitol wore, but still something that looks like he only pulls it out for special occasions. He has a simple, wide-brimmed cap on his head and is smiling in residual amusement at us.


    "Kyuuga?" I ask. "That rabbit? Is he somebody''s pet?"


    But the man just laughs. "Oh, no. Kyuuga doesn''t belong to anyone. He''d never allow it. I suppose that technically makes him a wild rabbit, but I don''t think there''s a person in this village that doesn''t think of him as a part of it."


    "And does this upstanding village citizen usually attack people?"


    He chuckles again. "Only outsiders that don''t look like they''re here on business," goes the explanation. "Pretty sure he''s trying to keep you from making off with any of his friends!"


    The man comes over and gives me a pat on the arm that turns into a squeeze like he''s checking the muscles. "You''re pretty sturdy, yourself, girl! To take a shot to the face like that and get back up like it''s nothing! You are alright, aren''t you?"


    "Yeah," I confirm. "It was just a cheap shot, or it probably wouldn''t have even taken me off my feet. He only hit me for ten."


    But at that, Yorin sticks her head into my field of view. "Remmi, have you raised your health since we left the capitol?"


    I blink back, confused by the question. "No. Why?"


    "Your maximum remains sixty, then?"


    "Yes?"


    But the man laughs again. "Definitely sturdy, then!"


    He continues to laugh and slap my shoulder, but I turn my attention back to Yorin, my expression begging an explanation.


    "A single blow of more than ten percent of your total health is enough to stagger most people," she obliges. "If your health points correlated to a physical portion of your body, at one-sixth of your total, the blow that rabbit struck you with would be like getting your entire leg smashed."


    I''m starting to notice I blink a lot when I''m hit with information I''m having trouble processing. Like I''m doing right now. I''m trying to square away the reminder of how little health I actually have with the percentage of it that rabbit had stripped.


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    When it finally clicks, I wheel on both of them again. "Wait, isn''t that an absurd amount of damage from a rabbit?!"


    That sets the man to laughing again, but Yorin is just staring at me flatly in the face.


    "That is the part that you think is absurd?" she asks.


    "Well, it''s to be expected!" the man provides as soon as he can catch his breath. "Rabbit or no, we are talking about a level 10 monster, after all!"


    Now, he has the attention from both of us, surprise on our faces.


    "Kyuuga is level 10?!" I demand. "I haven''t seen a lot of rabbits, so correct me if I''m wrong, but that sounds way too high!"


    "It is!" the man gleefully confirms. "Heck, that''d be pretty good for a civilian, let alone a rabbit! It''s why we named him after the Emperor, in praise to the strength of both of them! Of course, Emperor Kouga''s a lot higher than ten, but he''s also no rabbit! Why, Kyuuga might be the most powerful horned rabbit in the world!"


    "How do you know his level, though?" Yorin asks. "That would require a soul stone to verify."


    The man nods in agreement. "A few seasons back, we all pitched in to pay for someone to come out and run one over him. The priest that came to perform the test nearly screamed heresy when he found out we wanted it used on a rabbit. But when the results came back, he ran it three more times in sheer disbelief!"


    I resist the urge to cast Identify on some of the more normal rabbits around us. There will be plenty of time to indulge my curiosity later without making a spectacle of it.


    Meanwhile, the man gets a look of realization on his face and moves back in front of us again. "Ah, forgive me, ladies! I got so distracted talking about Kyuuga that I forgot to introduce myself! I''m Graf Yomei, the mayor around these parts. Please feel free to call me Graf, or Mayor Graf if I''ve done something to get myself in trouble."


    He steps forward and takes one of our hands in each of his. "And if I''m not mistaken, I''m certain you two are our imperial guests! It''s an honor and a pleasure to welcome you both to Dabun! I had expected to receive you at my home, but when I got word you decided to tour our charming village on foot, I knew I had to come and meet you!"


    "What a pleasure to meet you, too, Mayor," I say with my bright smile fully on. I''m quite proud of it and the sunny voice that accompanies it. I polished them both over the handful of years I spent working in sales and service to pay for all of the expenses my college grant didn''t cover. I take my other hand to grasp the one he''s using to hold mine and shake it firmly. "I''m Remmi Lee."


    Yorin is far more contained as she gives a proper, priestly bow. "I am Sacred Yorin. Thank you for meeting us, Mayor Graf."


    He laughs again. It''s something that seems to come easy to him, though, admittedly, I''m a little suspicious of it now that I know he''s the mayor. Not that it''s so high a position that his mirth couldn''t be genuine.


    "Oh, it does appear I''m in over my head with you two," he replies. "It makes me all the more regretful that our provincial governor, Lord Ettia, couldn''t make it. He sends his sincerest apologies, but his duties simply did not permit him the freedom to attend as planned."


    I keep my smile up. I''ve seen enough middle managers left to make excuses for a boss that I''m pretty sure I grasp what happened. "I suppose we can only be grateful that he holds his duties to be of such great importance. He must exhaust himself seeing to the needs of his people."


    I tried to keep it nice and understanding, but enough must have slipped through, or perhaps he knows a fellow peddler when he sees them. "Ah, we were told so little of what to expect. If he were to come to every little village every time someone new moved in, he''d never get any work done! Of course, I''m sure if he knew a fellow noble was the newcomer, he would have made an exception."


    The latter, then. I find a couple more watts to crank into my smile. "Oh, I''m not a noble, Mayor."


    This time, his laugh chokes a bit, and his expression stumbles. It''s not malicious. In fact, I''m growing more and more certain I can trust him. He''s genuine enough that he''s easy to read. "Ah, you''re not? Apologies, Miss Lee. Your whole demeanor--"


    "I believe there has been a misunderstanding, Mayor Graf," Yorin puts in with decorum. "When she said she is not a noble, she did not mean that she is a commoner."


    Now, he''s really looking confused, and I think I''ve got just enough of a read on Yorin to tell she''s enjoying it behind her holy stoicism.


    "Ah, ladies, I''m afraid I''m growing terribly disoriented with each passing moment. Have mercy on a poor village mayor and come out with whatever it is I''ve overlooked?"


    "Rest easily, Mayor Graf," the elf tells him with that out of place motherly smile. "There is nothing you have overlooked. It is simply clear that there is something you have not been made aware of. The capitol is far away, after all, so there is no shame in it." She lets her lips purse in thought. "Still, I would have thought it something Lord Ettia would have believed relevant enough to pass to you."


    She seems determined to play with her food a little longer, but I swear the poor man is actually starting to sweat, so I take pity on him.


    "I am Remmi Lee," I reintroduce myself as I pull out the golden token for him to see. "I was summoned to the capitol as the Gunslinger Hero."


    The fingers with which he grasps the emblem are trembling now. "H-Hero?! I ..." He swallows. "I''d heard there had been a summoning ritual, but the details hardly--"


    Graf shakes his head and looks us each right in the eyes, first Yorin, then me. "Lord Ettia was very certain that our honored guest was not one of the four Heroes."


    Ah, yes, and now motive. It wasn''t that he didn''t think it worth coming out here for a new arrival from the capitol with land granted directly by the throne. It was that Lord Ettia thought he was too good to come out for a rejected Hero.


    I can''t help but wonder if he''d been in attendance.


    "Lord Ettia''s information was premature," Yorin informs him. "There are five Heroes, all recognized by the throne. He should be more patient for official confirmation in the future. It would be my honor to provide you with the names and descriptions of all five Heroes so as to avoid any more such embarrassments on the topic."


    "Of course, of course," the mayor agrees quickly. "And again, forgive me. I can only work with what information I am given, you understand."


    We both nod in empathy and understanding, and then he focuses on me again.


    "Ah, forgive my flippancy, Hero Lee, but while I no longer wonder at how you so easily recovered from Kyuuga''s attack, and I understand how rude it is to ask of another''s status, my mind cannot shake a single question."


    In place of my bright smile, I''ve relaxed into a much more natural grin. "I''ll make you a deal. You don''t use Hero as an honorific on me, and I''ll answer your question." After all, I''m pretty sure I know what he''s going to ask.


    He blinks and processes that, then nods sheepishly. "Ah, yeah, Miss, I can agree to that."


    I nod back. "Then ask away."


    "... I''m pretty sure Sacred Yorin said your full health was sixty points?"


    "And that sounds awfully low for a Hero," I lead him along, and he nods in confirmation. I think of Leuke''s 540 health points. "Yeah, I''m pretty sure you''re right. It''s because instead of the ability boost, I got a unique class."


    He nods in understanding, seeming delighted at the idea of hearing about a unique class ...


    But then his head stops the motion cold. "I ... Forgive me again, Miss Lee, but do you mean you were selected as a Hero without a class?"


    "That''s right."


    "... Which would make you, if, as Sacred Yorin also said, you haven''t leveled since ..."


    "Level One," I unabashedly confirm.


    His sweats immediately spring back, and this time, he wipes his brow. "By the essence, a Level One Hero ..."

 Chapter 18 - Estate

    Chapter 18


    Estate


    Graf personally introduced us to the land allotment I''d received from the throne, and insisted on walking its entire dimensions with us in tour. He believed it to be only the first step in making up for the slight delivered to us by the Serazin region''s provincial lord.


    Though he knows the land well, and I''m definitely grateful for his insight, my repeated assurances that any complaints we had were with Lord Ettia and not with him were shot down as often as I offered them.


    It''s pretty decent land, by my reckoning. The fifty acres sounds like an awful lot for this village until you realize it''s almost all forest outside the village, territory they can do very little with and need even less with the region''s overabundance of horned rabbits. Once upon a time, it would have been necessary for hunting and lumber, but Dabun is already built up and the forest is predominantly hardwood, making it undesirable for regional construction preferences anyway.


    It''s very clear, however, that a particular portion of it was once cleared. There''s perhaps a couple acres where everything is young growth and even glades. It''s obvious that nothing within this area is part of the older forest. It probably isn''t older than I am. Heck, it''s possible some of it is even younger than I look.


    The mayor is surprised when I mention this to him, not expecting me to have known enough about forest growth to tell the difference between one part and another.


    The smile on my face as I answer is admittedly a bit homesick as I explain that I grew up surrounded by similar environments.


    "Ah," he edges in awkwardly, "if you''ll pardon me for saying, Miss Lee, you do not cross me as someone who was brought up in the wilds."


    I laugh. I can''t help it, it''s such a bizarre way to interpret what I said. "I wasn''t! Not that I''d consider this particularly wild. My family has a couple hundred acres back where I''m from, and I had the run of most of it, plus plenty of wilderness beyond it."


    Graf''s laugh is a shorter bark. "And to think you nearly had me fooled with that whole, not a noble, routine." He''s pulled his hat off at this point, having been wiping his head down, and he motions toward me with the item. "I figured you must have been from merchants, what with the grin you gave and the fuss you put up about being called a noble. Now the truth''s out. You''re not just a noble, you''re landed."


    While it''s true that my family''s land is ancestral property, I already regret bringing it up. Trying to explain my homeland''s lack of a caste system, nevermind the completely different way property rights are handled, seems like a fruitless headache that wouldn''t serve any purpose.


    "What I am or am not back home doesn''t really matter," I go with instead. "I''m not from the empire, so aside from my status as a Hero, any position I may have doesn''t mean anything here."


    That''s clearly something that makes him curious, but he''s more subdued when he says, "That doesn''t seem to bother you as much as I think it would me."


    I laugh again at that. I can''t tell him that it doesn''t bother me because I''m not accustomed to being concerned with titles and ranks in the first place, so I just shake my head. "It is what it is. I''m far from home, sure, but I''m prepared to make do."


    Graf puts his hat back on his head with a sigh. "More mature than a man twice your age, Miss Lee ..."


    That''s fair, since I''m nearly twice my age. Still, it seems only a comment in passing, and he doesn''t dwell on it.


    "Well, I''m glad to hear it," he says instead, as if his previous remark hadn''t happened. "Now that you''ve seen the whole property, any thought to where you''ll be putting the house?"


    Yorin, who has mostly kept to herself, speaks up at that point. "You mean there isn''t one?"


    "Ah, no, afraid not," he confesses. "Not for a long time, anyway. Of course, I''m happy to host Miss Hero as a guest in my own home until one''s ready. Oh, and you, too, of course, if you need it."


    "I would prefer to stay wherever the temple grounds are to be," she answers, "though I appreciate the offer."


    "Fire took the original house?" I guess, and the man''s face turns surprised again.


    "Uh, yes," Graf confirms. "How ... how did you know? It must have been, gods, some dozen years."


    I motion to the trees. "I don''t recognize all of the species exactly, but the trees around the big glade have a lot in common with the kind you tend to see a lot of after an area''s been cleared by fire. I''m guessing that glade is where the original house was."


    He takes his hat off again, more solemnly this time. "You''re far too clever, Miss. Far, far too clever. You''re completely in the right of it. The whole farm was razed to the ground. Second time, too. More than a few of us started to think that poor girl was cursed." But he scoffed and shook his head. "Not that any of us would say it now."


    "Girl?" I inquire.


    "That''s right," the mayor nods. "Only survivor the first time, lost her parents and anything she might''ve had to her name when that giant decided tormenting us would be a fun pastime. Just a little girl then, and honestly still the crying, dirty little girl I see when I think of her. Terrible."


    "She must have recovered if it happened a second time?"


    "Yeah," the story continues. "She got restless before long and took off one night. Just a kid, maybe half your age. When we found nothing of her in a week, we assumed she''d been reunited with her parents. Lord Ettia''s father granted her the land and offered her charge of the village a few years later for killing the giant, herself. She declined the latter, but she hardly got the place built back up before bandits torched it." Another laugh. "Of course, they didn''t fare nearly as well as the giant. Still, the damage was done and she hasn''t been back since. Never released it, either, though. Not until now."


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    ... I''m starting to put the pieces together. A giant slayer. Only now released the property. I turn toward the priestess.


    "... Yorin."


    "Yes, Remmi?"


    I sigh instead of asking my question. She''s got that smile on her face that already gives me the answer.


    "Well, I''m fine here," I insist instead. I don''t feel comfortable mooching off of his goodwill, and I don''t really think I have funds for a long-term inn room, if the village even has one. I can probably push it off on the throne, but I''d rather not push my luck. Or end up owing the empress more favors than I can pay back.


    Both the mayor and Yorin turn their attention to me, the mayor in open surprise, while Yorin just arches a curious eyebrow.


    "There really is nothing here," Graf insists again. "Surely you need some place to stay while construction is done."


    "A good tent will do well enough until I can get something basic up," I counter. "With a few tools from town, I can clear the land, myself, and get a basic shelter up. It''ll probably even get me some points!"


    And then I give an embarrassed grin as I rub the back of my head. "I''m afraid a Level 1 Hero ripped from her homeland doesn''t come with a great deal of personal wealth. I''m just looking to get a solid roof up I can store some belongings under until I can earn the money to put up something more permanent."


    "Earn?" the mayor repeats. No doubt the sheer sum I''ll require has him stumped on how I might just up and earn it in anything resembling a timely manner.


    "You have a guild branch office, I presume?" Yorin asks.


    "Of course," he confirms, though he clearly isn''t quite following her just yet. "It''s required by law."


    "I think a Hero would do well enough as an adventurer," the priestess explains, impressively managing not to sound condescending as she does so. "Don''t you?"


    * * *


    I open the flap of my tent to the dewy morning light drifting lazily down into the glade where I''ve made camp. The first thing I lay eyes on, though, isn''t the remains of my campfire. Nor is it the box of half a dozen tools I bought in town yesterday. Despite my thoughts previously being about warming up some cured meat and pickled vegetables in a pan for breakfast, it isn''t even my sealed barrel of rations.


    The first thing I see is a big, gray rabbit sitting there like it''d been waiting for me.


    And it''s still freaking glaring.


    I can''t yet muster the willpower to summon my anger from yesterday, so I just groan as I return his gaze with a flat one of my own.


    "Good morning, Kyuuga. If you''re going to kick me again, wait until I''m out of my tent. If you wreck it, the Dabunese Horned Rabbits are going to be down a guardian."


    I don''t really know if the Essence System translates my words to animals like some disgusting Disney Princess, but I also don''t care. At the very least, he moves out of my way as I pull myself out of the tent.


    I stop a short distance away on the opposite side of my fire pit and sit down on a log I rolled over for the purpose. There''s still a bit of fire there and I put another couple logs on to encourage it back to a full burn. Only when that''s done do I then look back across it to my nemesis.


    I bring my hand up next to my eye as I focus on him.


    <hr>


    NAME: Kyuuga


    RACE: Horned Rabbit


    AGE: 14


    LEVEL: 11


    CLASS: Beast Warrior


    STATUS: Irritated


    <hr>


    "Huh, looks like you''ve gained another level since they scanned you," I note. "Good on you."


    I know from Identifying a number of regular horned rabbits yesterday that their levels all seem to only be one. Further, Yorin told me that, unlike people who only have levels once they have a class, all monsters have levels from birth. The difference here is that their class is supposed to just be their race, and their level is largely set in stone.


    That is to say that the average monster has a level based on their power, but is generally incapable of increasing that value.


    Not only is Kyuuga clearly capable of leveling up through his own effort, but he also has an actual class separate from his species.


    I give him another evaluating look, this time without Identify.


    "My furry friend, what in all the world have you been through to break so many rules?"


    He gives a hard thump, which I interpret as an angry, I''m not your friend, pal!


    ... Or it could just be irritation from me talking instead of taking the hint and leaving. I prefer to believe the former.


    I sigh and rub some sleeping sand out of my eye. "Look, Kyuuga, we''ve clearly gotta have some words, you and I."


    He thumps again, and I hold my hands up.


    "I get it, I get it, I''m an outsider. But I''m going to be here for a while, and if I have to worry about getting punted every time my back is turned, it''s going to be a lot longer. I''m not looking to cause any trouble for you and yours--"


    Thump.


    "I''m not!" I''m pretty sure the look he''s giving me is doubtful. "In fact, I''m here to be a protector, too. I''m here to get stronger, like you have, so I can protect more people. And rabbits, too, if they''ll let me."


    I take a chance and hold out my hand toward him, even if it feels really cheesy. "... Will you let me, Kyuuga?"


    He fidgets on the spot a moment, probably trying to figure out if I''m about to lunge for him, but honestly, it almost seems like he''s considering it, mulling my words over ...


    I barely hit the ground in time to avoid a flying bunny kick shooting through the air where my head had been.


    "YOU LITTLE SHIT!"


    All of my diplomatic decorum discarded, my roaring rage nonetheless rings hollow. The culprit is already disappearing into the tree line by the time I pull myself up to shout after him.

 Chapter 19 - Bushcraft

    Chapter 19


    Bushcraft


    I''ve fallen into a comfortable pattern of daily work. Each morning, I get up and wash my face with the last of the clean water I brought up the day before. Then I feed the fire back up for some breakfast.


    Honestly, I haven''t really let the fire die out since I started it. I''m clearing so much lumber that there''s no shortage of scraps and cuttings to feed it with, and I use it for at least two meals a day. On top of that, I build it up to burn overnight to keep any forest critters away.


    It''s just easier to prop it back up than it is to mess with extinguishing and restarting it all the time. I''m confident in the ability of my fire pit to keep the flames from spreading, and it makes a handy disposal site for trash and food scraps.


    Today, as I take note of the level of slag in the bottom, though, I think maybe I should actually put it out and scrape it clean. I can bury the stuff as a reasonable disposal method.


    For now, I finish my breakfast and toss the cast iron dishes into the flames to clean them that way. I get up with a long stretch, grab my water bucket and look around.


    While Kyuuga hasn''t attacked me again since that first day on the property, he''s usually keeping a pretty close eye on me. How blatant he makes it seems to vary with his mood, but I can usually pick him out if I try hard enough.


    Ah, there''s a familiar pair of ears sticking up from behind my log stand.


    I toss a wave in that direction. "Heading down to the river," I call out for his benefit. "Your offering''s in the usual place."


    Unlike Earth bunnies, it turns out horned rabbits aren''t actually obligate herbivores. The one morning I thought to make myself fried potatoes and onions with some pressed meat product that reminds me of spam, he practically raided my campfire.


    Since then, I''ve made at least a little bit of it every morning and put it out on a plate just for him, but he''s never been so pushy about it since. He always insists on only eating it after I leave.


    ... Silly tsundere rabbit ...


    Ah well, maybe one of these days, it''ll prove to him that I''m not a villain.


    The bucket''s a bit heavy when it''s full, but it''s plenty of water for me for the day. I have enough to drink when I''m thirsty and still have it left over for cooking in the evening. Since I''m using it for consumption, I''m not washing in it. Instead, I take a bath in the river in the evening after I''m done working for the day.


    There''s a bath house in town, but as much of a walk as getting to the river is, it''s still less hassle than going all the way into town, and cheaper, too. Yorin left me some nice soap from the wagon supplies, so it''s enough.


    I''ve been using an item from my points store for cleaning my clothes, though. Technically, it would clean me, too, but it has a chemical smell to it, and after a long day of clearing trees and sorting logs, I much prefer bathing. It''s ten points a bottle, but since I''m only using it on my clothes, I can make one bottle last a while. I''ve been here two weeks and I''m only on my second one.


    As I walk the increasingly familiar path through the woods, I think about the rest of my day. Normally, I''d get started clearing the original couple of acres as soon as I get back to the camp, but I''m almost done with that. All of the logs that are straight enough to be useful have been sorted out, trimmed of limbs and cut down to sizes my small frame can handle.


    I still had to raise my Strength to manage their weight, but it was a relief to find doing so wouldn''t alter my physique. If this job was going to have me coming back out of these woods looking like a lumberjack, I was going to head right out and jump ahead to adventuring.


    Instead, despite tripling my physical strength, I still look as slim and soft as when I got to this world. All without lifting a single dumbbell. Ahhh, I could get used to the way this system cheats ...


    Though that makes me wonder if it''s only because I bought the Strength increase. If I''d done it like non-Heroes still have to do, would it have been biologically the same as back in my world?


    Still, it''s enough to move six-foot logs without the need for a couple guys to come do it for me, and it makes tasks like carrying a bucket full of water for a mile easy, too.


    I''ve saved the branches that are nice and straight, as well. The sticks are really useful for smaller projects. In fact, they''re even making up the racks I made to keep the logs off of the ground. Everything unusably bent gets broken down for firewood.


    It took me a week, but I''ve even moved away from the tent. I used the first round of logs to assemble a very simple dirt floor cabin. It''s not fancy, but it keeps the wind and rain out, and two adjoining structures keep my tools and supplies out of the elements and secured against nosy rabbits.


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The more I work, the more I realize that I should have given it a raised floor off of the ground, and that I should really make a stone fireplace inside for heat and better efficiency instead of continuing to use the fire pit outside. My mind''s even been taken with ideas of how I could plot out a small garden, but I reject this since I can''t say I''ll be here to take care of it.


    I''m ashamed to admit it, but a lot of this knowledge isn''t mine, or rather, it''s not knowledge I came into this world with. I''m competent enough at bushcraft that I can handle a camp-out, but a lot of the more advanced stuff came from my General Skills tab.


    It''s full of a nearly endless array of useful topics, and since points seem to be an infinitely renewable resource, it''s easy to justify dumping some to make it look like I actually know what I''m doing. In fact, with all the labor I''ve been putting in, I''ve actually made back more than I spent on the inexpensive basic proficiencies.


    I did try to do it myself at first. Not knowing how fast I''d be able to earn points from the actual work, I naturally thought thriftiness the best policy.


    ... This body did not come accustomed to physical labor. I never really tired, given my high stamina, but everything seemed more difficult than I thought it would be. I realized very quickly just how low 10 Strength really is. Heck, I had spaghetti arms the first time I brought water back.


    So long as I have the stamina, I can apparently keep doing anything I have the strength to physically do, but the greater the strain, the faster the drain.


    And then there was the constant nagging from the system. Every time I tried to do something, it''d pop a notification about how I wasn''t proficient in it and how that would affect the quality, and how the fastest way to fix that would be to purchase the requisite skill.


    When I finally folded and followed its advice, it was a surprisingly ... mundane experience. There wasn''t some uncomfortable rush of knowledge as my head filled with facts it didn''t have before. It wasn''t like I was possessed by someone who knew how to do it right and my body just moved like it was supposed to.


    Instead, it was like looking at a project I''d just gotten back from a day class on, and I could now understand all of the things I had been doing wrong. I knew how to properly hold my tools. I knew where I was cutting against myself and where I was over-complicating things. The skill never did it for me. It was still on me to hold my tools correctly, to pay attention to what I was doing, but I knew how to get it done.


    Interestingly, this actually means that the longer I work with a skill, the more uses I can see for it, and the more efficiently I can use it, even without ranking it up further. Since it only gives me the basic training and leaves its utilization to my own ingenuity, I start out pretty simplistic with a new skill, but the more I learn about it, the more I experience it, the better I get at its application.


    So General Skills aren''t crafting recipes, so much as they''re an instant education. That explains why each topic has so few skills within it, and why they''re so inexpensive. To go back to the fear I once had of having to craft my own gun, all of the requisite proficiencies wouldn''t have told me how to actually build one. They just would have made sure that I had all of the basic skills necessary to figure it out on my own.


    ... That''s actually a sobering thought. All of the necessary knowledge to create firearms may already exist in Furinshao. The only thing preventing a total revolution of war may literally be that no one has thought of bringing that knowledge together in quite that way yet.


    It makes me place a protective hand over the pistol holstered on my hip as, all of a sudden, the very nature of the fantastical world around me seems so much more fragile. Maybe seeking out a master craftsman is a bad idea. Once that genie is out of the bottle, it''s never going back in.


    Suddenly, Xuhitana''s words of the danger my pistol could pose in the wrong hands hits me in a new light. Yeah, sure, it''s powerful, but it''s just a weapon, or so was my original interpretation. Yeah, sure, someone could do a lot of damage with it, but it''ll run out of bullets or they won''t know how to maintain it, and then it''ll be useless.


    Sure, I was aware that people could study it and eventually figure out how it works, then go on to create rudimentary firearms. Y''know, a few decades down the road.


    Before this very moment, I''d never thought of my gun as a creative match, just waiting to start a wildfire in someone with the necessary skills to see how it all connects.


    I resolve to be a lot more careful about how openly I discuss Earth technology. So far, I''ve been pretty open about it, generally happy to blab about this or that innovation to anyone who will listen. What''ll it hurt if wagons are more comfortable? What''ll it hurt if my fellow Heroes understand what a gun is?


    What does it matter if I tell them all about technology five hundred, eight hundred, a thousand years ahead of them? Are they even interested, what with magic solving so many of the same problems?


    Damn, I''ve been a short-sighted idiot ...


    I shake my head to clear the negative air. It''s no use worrying about it now. Where was I before this segue? I was thinking about where to go next once I''d finished clearing out the couple acres.


    I don''t know that I''ll use all of it, but I probably can find uses for it. After all, I''m accustomed to a larger house than the Furinshao standard, plus I''ll need a shooting range to keep my skills sharp. If I''m doing a lot of traveling and find any interesting plants, I''ll probably want a place to grow them.


    There''s some oak trees in the area, too, though I don''t recognize their exact species. I''d like to clear out around them to get easy access to their acorns. It''s a lot of work to leach the tannins out of them and process the nuts into flour, but my mom always bakes with them every fall and my mouth fills with drool at the thought of the distinct taste of acorn cookies.


    ... Snacks aside, it will be nice to have a little reminder of home, and it''s one less thing I have to get from somewhere else.


    I''m probably going to need to clear some sort of route from where I want my house back to the village, too. Especially if I intend to have professionals doing any construction, or if I decide to use materials other than forest wood. It''s going to need to be wide and clear to get supplies and people in. I should check with Graf and see if there''s any legal requirements on how to go about that.


    As I''m coming up on the river, I see a fish leap at some morning bug, grabbing a bit of breakfast of its own. I''m going to need a well at the house, obviously, but maybe a pond would be nice, too. Stocked with fat fish that''ll keep me fed in the winter.


    Of course, a pond is a big undertaking, it''s surprisingly expensive to dig a big hole in the ground if you want it to stay there ...


    I pause halfway through filling my bucket when I hear a wet plorp behind me.

 Chapter 20 - Slime

    Chapter 20


    Slime


    I turn around, careful not to do so too fast as to startle whatever it is into premature action, and set my eyes on a ... a watery blob.


    I know what it is immediately, as it''s one of the few monsters Yorin went out of her way to explain to me.


    The slime trembles on the precipice of a branch of driftwood before gravity takes over and pulls it off onto the dirt ground. There''s a spot of grass where it lands, but I can already see it starting to waver and break down inside of the monster''s transparent body.


    Slimes, Yorin had explained to me, fill a unique niche in the natural ecology. They generally feed on toxins and detritus in wet environments, meaning they can be found in and around both natural and artificial waterways, and even open fields after a heavy rain. Their diet naturally cleans those waterways, improving the health of the surrounding ecosystem.


    This changes radically, however, if they become overpopulated, which can happen naturally when they aren''t culled by predators or adventurers, or in response to high levels of pollution. When there''s too many of them in a given environment, crowding causes them to start secreting toxins into the waters they normally clean.


    Obviously, this creates a disastrous snowball of ecological damage, giving wild slimes a reputation both as pests and as an indicator of the health of the local environment. If you don''t see any, there''s a drought. If you see them only every once in a while, the local water is clean and its denizens happy.


    ... If you see a lot, call an exterminator and the EPA. Or, y''know, your planar equivalent.


    She also stressed to me that I am never to kill slimes in cities without clear official permission. Cities use slimes bred for docility as a key component of water reclamation and sanitation systems. Their numbers are carefully monitored and maintained by the city, and attacking them is considered the same as vandalizing city infrastructure.


    As a side effect, this means city slimes have a lot in common with Dabun''s horned rabbits, especially in cities particularly dominated by surface waterways, where these slimes are seen frequently by humans. While not technically pets, and their removal is punished heavily, they get to be very comfortable around people, who often feed or otherwise pamper them.


    This is definitely not one of those slimes. The ones Yorin showed me were happy-go-lucky, pudgy balls of goo that enjoyed having their cheeks pinched, and had the viscosity to keep it all inside like mascot stress balls. This thing looks like somebody dumped a #10 can of malicious jam on the sidewalk in a heat wave.


    "Identify," I announce as I pull my hand up next to my eye.


    <hr>


    NAME: Slime


    RACE: Slime (Wild)


    AGE: 1


    LEVEL: 1


    CLASS: Slime


    STATUS: Aggressive


    <hr>


    Huh, same level as the rabbits. And the spell even conveniently identifies it as a wild slime. Good to know I won''t have to worry about telling the difference.


    Tassim was right, Identify really is such a must-have spell. Well, not that I really have any others for a comparison.


    Actually, mental note, I should see if I can get that cleansing item''s effect as a spell. It''s only a matter of time before something like that pays for itself.


    ... Wait, what was that status?


    I sidestep out of the way as yet another monster tries to tackle my face. Fortunately, the slime is no rival to Kyuuga, and even with my delayed recognition of the threat, it has no chance of hitting me. It slaps against a tree trunk like a wet snot ball and quivers there for a moment like it''s stunned, or too stupid to figure out it missed.


    As I wait to see which it is, it throws itself into the air again, but again, it comes nowhere near me.


    I can''t help but think this display is kind of pathetic, and I draw my gun, deciding to put it out of its misery. The round explodes from the barrel, and slime and soil both go flying.


    Figuring that''s that, I go to get my water bucket, but pause when movement catches my eye.


    ... Rather than being dead, the pieces of the slime pull back toward its largest mass, and soon it''s quivering there again like it''s more infuriated that I had the gall to shoot it than injured from the attack.


    I shoot it again for good measure, but this time I wait to see if it worked. Sure enough, it starts pulling itself together again.


    "... Stubborn little grease stain, aren''t you?" I ask it rhetorically as I eject the overpressure rounds from my gun. I pull the slide to pop the one from the chamber, catch it and toss it into the satchel, too.


    Then I slide in a magazine with a red stripe down the side and chamber the first round.


    I raise the pistol in both hands and train the sights on its gathering mass, waiting for it to finish recovering. "Let''s try something with a little more spice."


    This time, the magical incendiary round instantly cremates the monster. Literally. I can see it burn away in mid-air before it even has time to get blasted away.


    If I needed more confirmation, the status window promptly starts cheering.


    <hr>


    You have defeated a Slime!


    +25 Points


    Stolen story; please report.


    You have defeated your first monster!


    +100 Points


    You savagely obliterated an opponent


    that was beneath you!


    +100 Points


    (You know you could have just hit it


    with a stick, right?)


    <hr>


    That last bit disappears a moment after I register it, leaving me feeling like I just saw something that I wasn''t supposed to see.


    Is my status developing an attitude? Is that a thing? Maybe it''s just noticing my positive reactions to its shop snark?


    I realize that I know basically nothing about the Essence System. I''d ask Yorin, but she''d just try to sell me on her holy book again.


    Still, ignoring the extra two hundred from the system''s pseudo-achievements, that was a very easy twenty-five points. A single level one slime awarded me the equivalent of five magazines of ammunition. Or one ration pack, I suppose. Ten apples.


    Isn''t that way too much?


    ... Actually, isn''t it just my bonuses to point acquisition that are too high? Thinking back to them, since I used my gun, didn''t they come out to something crazy like 250%?


    That would mean slimes are actually worth only ten points for a regular person. But that''s still like four apples. Is a slime worth four apples? I know it isn''t worth thirty-two bullets, but I''m already aware that the System is seriously underpricing those.


    What else do I know the price of? My holster was discounted. The Identify spell was 100 points. Are ten slimes equivalent to the value of Identify?


    No, I''m thinking of this wrong. Points don''t measure market value, they measure effort. Is the effort necessary to learn the Identify spell equivalent to the effort of killing ten slimes?


    ... Maybe? Nobody actually knows how to learn the spell normally, so as far as I know, it could be super easy and it''s just forgotten.


    It''s about that time that I realize I''m still just standing on the bank of the river, staring blindly at the fading smolders of my fire round. I shake my head to clear it, then switch back to the regular rounds before I forget they''re in there and set something on fire I''d rather not.


    Once more, I fill my water bucket and begin the trek back, but I can''t completely shake the conundrum from my head. The issues keep percolating in the back of my brain.


    I just don''t have enough data points to determine how the System calculates point cost and distribution. I need to know so much more than the values, themselves. A concrete understanding of real-world market prices would be essential, and a grasp of how magic works and is studied would probably be mandatory, too. Not to mention the mean intelligence of the population. So on and so on.


    In short, the System involves and impacts so many things that any attempt to formally study it would basically first require understanding the whole world.


    To say this is beyond me for the foreseeable future would be an understatement. Instead, for the time being, it is better for me to take it at face value and figure out the best way to make use of it.


    I recenter my mind onto the slime. I know they reproduce like giant amoeba and eat wastewater. I also know they award me twenty-five points a piece, provided I use my gun. Oh, and also that my gun isn''t actually any good against them, kind of a drawback.


    Luring them in or hunting them in large numbers would be bad for the ecosystem, but I also know that they can be deliberately bred. Could I make a slime farm?


    I''m immediately hit by guilt at the thought that I''d be cheesing the system, and reflexively swear to myself that I''m not going for something crazy like infinite points. Though points probably are functionally infinite. The point is I''m just looking to pad out my total a bit since I didn''t start with any and need so many for everything I''m trying to do.


    ... Though if the system doesn''t like it, it''ll probably just tell me so, and then, hey, at least I have a water purifier? Nothing ventured, nothing gained.


    Actually, a water purifier is essentially exactly what I need.


    When I reach my campsite, I immediately dump my fresh water on the campfire, then start shoveling the ash and garbage into a second bucket. The firewood is set aside to dry in the sun.


    In short order, I''ve ironically completed cleaning out my fire pit, the task I''d just been putting off, and with a spring in my step and a whistle on my lips, I take both buckets and the shovel back into the woods with me.


    ... I can practically feel Kyuuga staring after me in bewilderment at my sudden change in behavior.


    The whole time I''m walking back, I''m considering how best to do this. I''m thinking I''m basically going to dig a hole, fill it with dirty water and wait. Eventually, at least one slime will find it, and then I can seal it up and wait for them to multiply.


    That means the hole needs to be close enough to the river to be within the slimes'' detection range, but far enough away that any contamination doesn''t seep back into the waterway. In fact, I probably need some way to seal the hole off from the surrounding ground.


    If I were doing this on Earth, I''d line the hole with concrete, plastic or rubber, easy peasy. Unfortunately, I don''t know for certain if any of those exist here.


    Well, might as well try, and if it doesn''t work, I''ll try something else. Experimentation! The foundation of discovery!


    I hardly get two scoops of dirt out of the ground before the system butts in.


    <hr>


    You are attempting to use a general skill that you


    are not proficient in. Using a skill without


    proficiency has a high risk of failure or


    inferior result.


    Continuing without proficiency has a low chance of


    granting proficiency.


    It is recommended to find a trainer for the desired


    skill to ensure you acquire proficiency.


    As a [Hero], you may spend points directly to


    acquire a general proficiency and/or any


    requisite proficiencies immediately.


    <hr>


    Ah, been a while since I''ve seen that one. It''s the same notice I received when I started trying to use the tools and build things for the camp on my own for the first time.


    On the upside, I figure it''s a good sign that the system seems to realize what I''m doing and isn''t trying to shut my plans down. It''s also really convenient, because all it takes is a focus of will on that last option to pull up exactly the skills I need to buy.


    ... My jaw drops wide open as I stare blankly into what anyone else would see as open air.


    Why does it require so many proficiencies just to build a monster trap?! Is this the System''s attempt to counterbalance against me?


    I mean, sure, they make sense if I stop and think about it. Well construction, water health knowledge, cask construction, slime behavioral knowledge, sewage management knowledge, wilderness survival ... Yeah, it all makes sense, but only to the degree that I can see an excuse being made for them on the topic.


    A couple of them, I even already have from what I''ve already been doing, but there''s still over half a dozen prerequisite skills. And then I still have to buy the actual skill, itself: Slime Farming.


    "... Yeesh, if you don''t want me to do it, just say so instead of being all passive-aggressive about it ..."

 Chapter 21 - Lumberjack

    Chapter 21


    Lumberjack


    I''ve been out here for about a month, and this morning, it isn''t Kyuuga waiting outside my door for me, but Yorin.


    I take one look at her and grin. "Time to head back to civilization, eh?"


    She smiles warmly back, and I realize I''ve missed that smile, as simultaneously sincere and untrustworthy as it can be. "Is a third of a season not enough? Did you want the whole thing?"


    "Nah, I''ve just about done all I intended," I reply and step out to join her on the porch.


    I''d finally gotten too frustrated with how sloppy my first attempt at a cabin had been and dismantled the entire thing one morning. Then I redid it properly with a raised floor and a thought-out interior. It''s furnished, too, with a full set of furniture and this deck-style porch. The fireplace is even inside now, though it required another general skill, Masonry.


    Just the fireplace, though, and a couple other things that couldn''t be done in wood. As tempted as I was to start redoing the walls, the cabin is still strictly intended to be a temporary structure. As is the adjoined shed. And the cart. I don''t know if the well will have to be moved or not. I hope not, that was a lot of digging.


    About the only thing that is definitely to remain is the driveway. Well, I think of it as my driveway. It''s really like a road back into Dabun, with a couple of switchbacks in it to reduce the erosion a straight shot over that distance would cause.


    "I should hope so," she answers with a note of sarcasm. "You disappear into the woods for a month straight without ever coming out until it is to connect a road you built in your free time. Remmi, you said you wanted to build a simple shelter to keep your things safe until you could afford something bigger. When I finally come to check on you, it is to find you have built an entire estate!"


    "Aw, this is barely anything," I disagree as I put the plate of potatoes and onions down on a chairless table too short for any humanoid to comfortably use. "I just needed somewhere to stay while I got the essentials done. This cabin will be dismantled when it''s time to build the actual house."


    The priestess stares at the plate for a moment. "... Is it customary in your homeland to eat breakfast on the ground?"


    "Oh, this isn''t for me," I assure her, waving the question off as I head down the couple of steps to the actual ground. "I ate inside. I''ll give you the tour when I head back in to grab my stuff. In the meantime, I''ll show you around the grounds. I''ve got some chores to knock out, especially if this is the last time I do them for a while."


    She follows after me, curious, at least, to see how everything has changed since she last saw it with the mayor. "What sort of chores?"


    "Oh, nothing major," I promise. "Just gotta check the traps and shut them down."


    "You have been living off of the land to avoid coming back to Dabun?"


    I grin over my shoulder at her. "Essentially, but when you say it like that, it''s bound to cause misunderstandings."


    She gives me the mandatory reprimanding look, and I proceed to show off the edges of what I''ve cleared. I''ve even taken out all of the stumps of the trees I''ve cut down, and made it a point to transplant some grass. In a year, you won''t be able to tell it wasn''t all yard, I figure.


    I make it a special point to show her the nearest oak trees I''ve made sure to include in that yard and ask after her familiarity with acorn flour. Yorin is actually surprised I''m familiar with it, as it''s apparently much more of an elven thing here than a human one.


    After that, it''s on into the forest. I''ve laid out a proper walking path to the river, and along the way, we stop at what at first glance looks like a narrow, half-buried cask.


    "It''s good timing that you came today," I tell her as I pull the lid off. "It just so happens to be harvest day. Any sooner and it''d be a waste. Any later and I''d have already started another batch."


    I use Identify as I look down into it. Yup, a whole quivering mass of angry slimes.


    Yorin peers over the edge, too. "You built a slime trap?! Remmi, the environmental impact--"


    "Farm," I correct her. "It''s a slime farm." I pull out my pistol and motion to it for emphasis. "Normally, the first round''s a paralysis bullet, stuns the lot of them. I pull a couple out and set them aside to repopulate it. The second bullet''s lightning. Kills them all nice and quick. But if I''m not going to be back for a while ..."


    I pull the slide back to eject the paralysis round and fire the next one in with practiced familiarity.


    She just stares in shock. "Why?"


    But I look back at her in confusion. "Because I don''t have water purification out here." I pull the inner wooden filter up out of the cask, the incoherent fluids spilling harmlessly out onto the ground.


    I continue to explain, "These aren''t city slimes, either. They''re wild and frankly have a nasty disposition. I can''t keep them and I don''t generate enough waste by myself to maintain any significant long-term population, anyway. So they do their thing and make sure I''m not polluting my surroundings, and I thin their numbers at regular intervals."


    "I am familiar with the concept," Yorin corrects me. "But you are so nonchalant about it."


    "Trust me, they''re angry jelly balls of fury and rage," I assure her. "I deliberately only used aggressive ones that might have otherwise gone on to hurt somebody. And besides, I originally put this whole assembly together to farm points."


    Now, she looks at me with a different kind of shock. "Points? Without trial?"


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    I shrug it off. "I needed a lot of general skills to do all of this work, and just started out on the back foot overall since I have a whole life I didn''t get credit for. Don''t worry, I absolutely understand the importance of practical experience, I promise. In fact, buying skills made that clearer than ever. I just needed a source of points while I worked."


    I turn over the filter to dump a small pile of iridescent stones onto a towel I laid out for the purpose. "Speaking of, I don''t suppose you can tell me if these are good for anything? All Identify tells me is that they''re minor-grade slime cores."


    Yorin keeps her focus on me for a long moment, clearly trying to determine if I really understand the importance of not being a horrible heretic or something, but ultimately sighs.


    "You think differently from anyone native to this world, Remmi. The way you see things is completely alien to so much that we value. I only wish for you to not fall to shortsightedness because of it, and maybe exercise a little more restraint in constantly reminding everyone of it."


    She motions back up the trail, toward what I''m honestly still thinking of as a camp. "You were put into an environment on your own for a month, the whole time with friends within easy reach for anything you needed. Everyone thought you were going to do some amateur ground clearing and come back at least every couple of days for fresh food and companionship. Instead, you disappear completely, and you ... you ..."


    I give a wry grin at her struggle to find words, suddenly aware of how it all must look to her. "... go full lumberjack?"


    "YES!" Her emphatic response is nearly a shout. "Remmi, you said you wanted a simple shack!"


    My grin wilts a little in apology as I scratch at my cheek. "That is a simple shack. Just with a little more in the way of creature comforts since I had to stay in it for so long. There was a lot more work to get this place prepped than I expected."


    Yorin''s arms are practically hurled back up the trail, only kept from flying off thanks to their physical attachment to her body. "You turned two acres of forest into a homestead, Remmi! In a month!"


    I try to double down, but my words sound weak even to me. Did I really do too much? "It''s really not that much ..."


    "And a road, Remmi!"


    "It''s going to be necessary for any construction crews ..."


    "The emphasis should be on crews," the priestess continues as I flinch away from her scolding. "Not a single level one teenager! This is my point! You have no sense of scale!"


    "Sorry, I''m sorry," I plead as I hold my hands up in surrender. "I''ll try to pace myself better in the future! It really didn''t seem like that much while I was doing it. I just saw things I needed to do, and I did them!"


    Yorin gives a few short pants as her rant catches up to her, her cheeks flushed red. Finally, she turns the pants into another long sigh and leans back from me. A moment later, she looks down at the stones and, far more levelly, answers my question.


    "Slime cores are used for enchanting, alchemy and jewelry with aquatic themes. Since you have simply been killing them as quickly as they can spawn, however, these have not been given time to properly develop. You can sell them to a refiner, who can condense them down into something usable, but that is about the extent of their usefulness, and you will not get much."


    I bundle the stones up in the towel and slip them into my bag. "Would they be worth more if I condensed them, myself?"


    She wheels on me like I just swore. "Remmi, no! What did I just finish saying about scale?! There has to be a limit on how much you go around doing!" Another sigh, and she rubs her forehead. "Besides, the process requires specialized equipment that is cumbersome to transport. Unless you are a refiner as a profession, it is not worth the investment."


    I shrug the idea off. She''s probably right. Being a carpenter, lumberjack, monster farmer, mason, excavator and refiner might come across as a little much.


    "Eh, I didn''t really want to be a crafter, anyway," I conclude as I turn to make my way on down the trail. "Come on, I still need to get the fish lines in."


    I spend the rest of the walk down to the river and back telling her all about my experiences and what I learned in the last month. As we come back onto the porch and I grab the plate back up without really looking at it, I conclude.


    "So, yeah, turns out buying skills outright is basically just getting the education, not the experience. Which I''m guessing is why you freaked out about me hitting them so hard."


    Yorin eyes the now-empty plate. "Remmi, are you feeding wild animals?"


    "Just the one," I admit as I let her into the actual interior of the cabin. "Kyuuga loves it, but doesn''t want to look like he appreciates me, so I leave it as a peace offering and he eats it while I''m out working."


    The cabin is basically a studio apartment in size, so I laid it out like one. No dividing walls since there''s no need for privacy when it''s just me, and everything''s made of wood or stone. There''s a bed (I got the stuffing and blanket from town), a table with two chairs (just in case I did get company), a pantry, a wardrobe, a cooking fireplace, a sink and a tub. The last three are stone and rather stuck in place, and all three vent to the outside. The drains for the sink and tub have trap doors to keep the water in while I''m using them.


    I''ve been pretty much planning to wrap up soon, so I have a good idea of what I''m going to pack, and after I get Yorin a cup of wild herbal tea, I set about doing just that.


    "You are essentially correct about the issue with purchased skills," she says as she watches me work. "There are more than a few parables of Heroes who grew overconfident with them and lost to more seasoned warriors." She looks around at the cabin. "Still, the speed with which you seem to integrate that new knowledge is terrifying."


    "It''s probably because everything I''ve done, I have at least some basic knowledge about it," I suggest as I dig around in the cabinet. "The nice thing about my world is that it''s very easy to end up knowing a little bit about everything, even if you don''t necessarily have the training to really use it."


    "... Which the System grants you when you purchase a new skill," she infers.


    "Exactly. I still need to work at it, but at least I start with some sort of idea of how to get there."


    I pull out a contraption and turn back toward her. "Here, check out what I''ve been fiddling with in my free time!"


    Her immediate reaction is a raised eyebrow. "All of this, and you still have free time?"


    I grin. "You were right, I don''t need nearly as much sleep."


    She rolls her eyes, but then they widen as I set the device in front of her. I don''t need to tell her what the lettering along the side says. After all, I figured being able to fill out my own paperwork in this world is important enough to pick up the general language skill.


    "Noodle Spitter," Yorin reads. "This is a repeating crossbow?" She turns to look at me in disbelief. "You took weapon smithing, too?!"


    "Eh, since I knew what I wanted to do, I was honestly already eighty percent of the way there with carpentry. And it''s really more of a proof of concept. The magazine uses springs from my own, and the gear assembly is carved from heartwood, so it''s probably good for a shot or two, but it really needs steel."


    I shrug at that, though. "But I don''t have the Blacksmithing skill. No point without a forge. Or, y''know, iron. Or a mine."


    Yorin stares at me hard. "You have been thinking a great deal about that."


    "I think a lot about a whole bunch of stuff," I admit. "It passes the time, gives me new stuff to do."


    "And if you did have access to a forge and the material, you would have purchased Blacksmithing as a general skill?"


    "Sure, it would have been handy for a lot of things this last month."


    The priestess sighs and sets her cup down. Her words are slow and measured, and I realize she''s not nearly as pleased with my projects as I am. "I ... see. Remmi, creativity and youthful exuberance can ... certainly be virtues, and I understand that the Essence System and points and magic are all very new and fantastic to you, full of possibility and wonder.


    "However, you risk both alienation and over-extension if you continue pursuing it the way you have this last month. I think it may be best if we cut back on the amount of time you spend ... unsupervised and left to your own devices."


    I give an embarrassed grimace at those words, and I translate them to what they''d mean back home.


    "I''m grounded ..."

 Chapter 22 - Guild

    Chapter 22


    Guild


    I stand in front of a two-story building with a large footprint just off of Dabun''s square. It''s done in the same style as all of the other businesses in this area of town, but the sign outside declares it to be the Serazin-Dabun branch office of the Independent Exploration Service Guild.


    That''s right, I''ve been in this world for a month and a half, and I''m finally getting around to actually joining the Adventurer''s Guild.


    One more time, more a nervous fidget delaying going in than anything, I open my status window.


    <hr>


    NAME: Remmi Lee


    RACE: Human (Outsider)


    AGE: 15 (24)


    LEVEL: 3


    CLASS: Gunslinger


    HP: 140/140


    MP: 120/120


    ST: 160/160


    STRENGTH: 30


    TOUGHNESS: 40


    INTELLECT: 120


    AGILITY: 80


    POINTS: 1,875


    TRAITS:


    Hero


    Gun Nut


    <hr>


    I could honestly spend a lot more points, but considering I haven''t earned any of them by actually doing hero work, I don''t really feel like I deserve the power boost. Besides, I don''t really know anything about adventuring in this world, and it would be really weird if a high level warrior walked in acting like a newbie.


    After Yorin got done scolding me, she actually asked me if I''d spent any of my ill-gotten points on raising my stats. It felt like a horribly dangerous question, and I timidly insisted that I had only done so because my Strength was too low to actually do the work. I''d raised it no more than was necessary for the task at hand.


    She''d insisted on checking, but since at the time, that really was the only change I''d made, she let me off with a lecture involving one of those parables she''d mentioned.


    Fortunately, I''ve never been one to jump for easy power. I''m aware of just how little I know, and I don''t want the numbers to go to my head. I have no interest in dying to something stupid just because I thought an arbitrary value was high enough. I''d much rather raise my power in response to need over time and make sure that I''m familiar with what I''m doing.


    ... Of course, I have a lot more freedom to neglect my stats than anyone normally would have, thanks to the cheat-level power of a firearm. Not to mention my base stats that are absurd on their own. If I assume that all of the other Heroes had stats similar to Leuke, shouldn''t I be equivalent to something like a level 15 agility-based warrior?


    Ah, again, not enough data points. The only status screens I''ve seen besides my own are Leuke''s and Xuhitana''s, and every indication is that they''re both practically monsters in their own right. I shouldn''t jump to conclusions with them as my only points of comparison.


    I consulted with Yorin for a couple hours before heading over here. Really, I was seeking her approval for the stat changes I wanted to make, but she seemed more interested just in making sure that I was actually considering the impact of such things, rather than what I did with them.


    Ultimately, I reasoned that I don''t like losing a sixth of my health to a rabbit, or being so perpetually close to death in general, so I gave my Toughness the same bonus as my Strength. That made my Agility look too close to them, though, so I gave it the same bump, too.


    It actually wasn''t until I raised my Agility that my level went up, reinforcing the idea that Gunslinger is definitely an Agility-prioritizing class, as the empress had suspected. Still, with my hit points more than doubled, I feel a lot less like everything I encounter can step on me.


    ... And with a couple levels, I''m less worried about getting ridiculed or rejected out of hand at the guild.


    One other change I made was to check out my class passives, in particular the pistol upgrades. I''ve been immensely curious how they''d work for such a physical thing ever since I read over them back in the High Temple.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The one I picked for my experiment was the capacity upgrade, as I figured that would be by far the easiest to examine. The result was both fascinating and disappointing.


    No visible change occurred with my gun. It looked exactly the same, and the magazine was still flush with the butt of the grip. Yet I knew it now held twenty rounds instead of sixteen. When I took the magazine out, everything looked the same size, but when I counted out the bullets, sure enough, there were twenty, counting the one in the chamber.


    While my image of a ridiculously overmodded pistol with full upgrades was beaten back, I was instead shocked to find that all of my other magazines had undergone the same upgrade.


    I should ask Yorin if she can find out whether the magazine I gave Xuhitana changed, too.


    Well, it''s not important right now. I''ve delayed long enough. It''s time.


    ...


    ... It still takes a bit of willpower to unstick my feet and get them moving.


    The inside of the guild isn''t quite what I was expecting. Sure, straight ahead of me is the reception desk, and there''s a big map of the empire on one wall ...


    ... But rather than the smattering of tables for groups waiting to be seen or loitering until teammates arrive, there''s an entire restaurant taking up one whole side of the main hall!


    On top of that, across the entire building that I can see, every spare wall that doesn''t serve a more utilitarian surface has trophies hanging from it. Monster skulls dominate, but many incredibly fancy weapons, presumably ornamental, are visible, too. At regular intervals along the dividing line between the tavern-style eatery and the main business area are plinths dedicated to holding many more, albeit much smaller, artifacts.


    The bartender for the restaurant, a woman with such flamboyantly red hair that I can''t help but be reminded of Leuke, spots me and shouts across the space, waving her arm over her head to make sure I see her.


    "Hoo-ay!" It doesn''t translate to anything, apparently, just a celebratory shout. "New girl on deck! You get through admissions, Yellow, and the first drink''s on me!"


    Unsurprisingly, none of the patrons have any trouble spotting me, presumably there to indulge in breakfast before heading out. They all give the same, "HOO-AY!" in a discordant unison, and my nervousness bumps up another rank.


    I put on the best smile I can manage and wave back before heading to the desks.


    "Don''t let them scare you," a deeply tanned woman with pale hair says before I can even introduce myself. "They''re just happy to see a new face."


    I can''t resist asking. "How can they tell I''m new so easily?"


    She puts up a high energy grin. "You mean besides the bright yellow hair and your fancy outfit?" The woman taps a badge pinned to the left side of her chest. It''s silver and is the emblem of the guild in miniature. "No badge, and you don''t have the look of a courier. Also, you wilt adorably under attention."


    I make a point to straighten my posture at that, but she only grins more.


    "So, Miss Yellow, are we right, or are you going to disappoint us with a package?"


    "Uh, no, I''m definitely here to apply," I confirm, "but I don''t know what I need to do to, well ... do that." I do pull out one envelope, though. "All I was told was to give this to the receptionist."


    Said receptionist gets a puzzled look as she takes hold of it and pulls out the letter within. "Huh. That''s not usually how this goes. Let''s see what we''ve got here."


    ... I know it''s bad when she barely looks at the page before her entire expression pales. She keeps reading, but seems too stunned to keep her thoughts to herself. "Gods ... A throne admission?! They actually exist?!"


    Unfortunately, her thoughts don''t seem inclined to explain themselves.


    "... Excuse me ... what''s a throne admission?" I''m pretty sure I can make a really good guess, but ...


    She looks at me with a startled expression like she''d momentarily forgotten I was there, and still has to tear her eyes away from the letter a second time before she can focus on me properly.


    "A throne admission is an order from the imperial throne, itself. It basically says we have to admit you no matter what, or face the kind of charges that get you a permanent vacation home somewhere dark and drafty." She raises the letter and twists her eyebrows at me in doubt. "You''re saying you didn''t know you were carrying this?"


    I frown as I lean away from the counter to cross my arms. "If I had, I wouldn''t have handed it over."


    The receptionist gives out a long, low warning whistle and slowly shakes her head. "No, Yellow. Don''t you ever even think of pulling a stunt like that. Refusing to turn over imperial documents is a fast way to throw yourself in the deepest of shit. No matter what they''re for, that''s infinitely worse."


    She takes the moment of silence between us to carefully and precisely fold the letter back up, return it to the envelope, and tuck it under a corner of a clipboard on her desk. Only then does she turn back to me.


    "... Though I wouldn''t mind knowing why someone who wants to become an adventurer doesn''t want an imperial recommendation."


    I''ve still got my arms crossed, but my frown has become questioning. "... Is it so hard to believe I''d want to get in on my own merit?"


    She laughs at that and taps the envelope sharply. "Oh, Yellow, you don''t get one of these without merit. I can''t imagine the emperor or empress willingly risking making themselves look bad by giving these to someone that can''t back it up."


    That''s ... a hard argument to counter, but I stand my ground anyway. "I ... I don''t want any special treatment I can get out of. I still want to go through the normal application process if at all possible. I want to know I got in because I passed, not because I got tricked into bringing a piece of paper."


    That just gets another laugh. "Sure, sure," she agrees, but leans down over the desk as if we''re trading secrets. "So what''s your deal, then? Foreign royalty looking to prove yourself worthy of a little independence?"


    My gaze flattens. "... Please, that''s not funny. I''m not royalty, but I''d really rather not answer that line of questioning any further if I don''t have to."


    The receptionist pouts at my refusal. "Yeah, should''ve figured. If you don''t want a big deal being made over your palatial connections, it only makes sense that you wouldn''t want to explain why."


    She takes a deep breath to put her professional face back on and pulls out another set of papers. "Alright, then, new applicant! I can get that started for you! We just need to take down a few details first! Let''s start with your name!"


    "Remmi Lee."


    "Spell it for me?"


    I do so, and she pauses.


    "Yellow, that''s another language."


    All I can do is shrug. "That''s my name."


    She sighs and settles for writing it phonetically. "Nothing doing, I guess. I''m telling ya, girl''s a foreign freaking princess." That part clearly isn''t directed at me, given the low way it''s growled. "Age?"


    "Fifteen."


    "Ooh, a fresh one. Just get your class?"


    "A little over a month ago, just before I moved here."


    "And what is it?"


    "Gunslinger." When she pauses again and arches an eyebrow, I elaborate. "It''s an agility-focused mid-range specialist. Like an Iaidoka with a ranged weapon."


    "Huh." She starts writing again. "Technically, it doesn''t matter what it does, I just need to know what to put on the paper, but the description''s appreciated. Never heard that one before."


    "It''s not from around here."


    That gets a scoff. "Of course it''s not. So your highest stat is Agility?"


    "Intellect, actually."


    And another pause. "You said your class is Agility-based."


    And another shrug in reply. "It is. My Intellect hasn''t gone up since I got the class. It just started higher."


    "Of course," she says again with the same sarcasm as the last time, and goes back to writing. "You''ll have to let us know when or if that changes. Level?"


    "Three."


    This time, she slams the quill down on the desk. "Gods damn it, Yellow!"

 Chapter 23 - Adventurer

    Chapter 23


    Adventurer


    "What''s wrong?!" I ask, startled by the outburst.


    "You are," the receptionist answers back. "Everything about you. First, your name''s in a foreign language. Okay, I can handle that. Then a class I''ve never heard of. That''s fine, too, I''m hardly an encyclopedia. Nonsensical stat distribution. Not the first time. Any one of those would just be a weird blip, but every answer out of your mouth is crazier than the last!"


    She slaps her hands on the desk and leans over it as she tries desperately not to shout. "And now, I know I said there''s no way to get that paper without merit, but three?! Yellow, I''d ask who you had to kill, but I don''t want to be next!"


    I''d be really worried if it weren''t blatantly obvious that last remark was just sarcastic emphasis.


    All the same, I decide to answer the question seriously.


    "Three level 25 wood golems."


    You could hear a pin drop between the two of us as she just stares at me.


    "... You''re shitting me," is all she can finally say.


    "My stat distribution is very nonsensical." I don''t bother mentioning the thirty more from my second test. After all, the imperial recommendation was probably written before then, when they first decided to send me out here. "Is it going to be a problem?"


    The woman sighs and shakes her head before picking up her writing utensil again. "Only if somebody asks me to explain my paperwork. Any traits?"


    I hesitate. Very noticeably. Long enough for her to raise her eyes and see me trying not to meet them. "... Yeeeeeees?"


    This time, she skips right to a groan as she digs the palm of her hand into one of her eyes. "If you keep this up, you''re going to force me into asking to see your status directly."


    "... And I''m guessing there''s more criminal charges for lying on the application?"


    "Depends on the lie, but it can definitely get you kicked out of the guild."


    "... Are you allowed to keep my status a secret?"


    "I''m required to keep your records secret," she corrects. "I''m still on the hook for filling them out correctly." At seeing my discomfort, she pauses and leans toward me again. "If it helps, whatever you want kept from other adventurers, unless it''s something like health threats we''re required to share, I can promise you that it''ll be up to your discretion to tell them. They won''t hear a word from us."


    "... Fine, but just to be sure, if I want to share my status only with you, that will make only us able to see it, right?"


    "Right."


    With a deep, bracing breath, I turn away from the desk and open my status window, only to be reminded that there''s several other things I really don''t want to share. Oddities like my Outsider racial subtype and my original age would bring nothing but difficult to answer questions that could sideline everything else I''m here to do.


    I stare at the (Outsider) tag in my race entry. Could it be possible to just ... hide it?


    My eyes widen in surprise as it disappears from the window. The entry now just reads, Race: Human. Quickly, I change my gaze to the 24, and it vanishes, too. Age: 15. Just to be sure, I will them both back before hiding them again.


    My eyes fall to my Hero trait, and temptation strikes me mightily. I did technically receive a direct order from the emperor not to tell people about it, and Xuhitana never specifically reversed that individual line.


    The receptionist is resting her head in her hand, with her elbow propped up on the desk, grinning like a cat that''s being served up bird on a silver platter. "Whenever you''re ready, princess."


    ... No. That''s playing semantics and I know full well that was covered by the reversal. Heck, I''ve already introduced myself as a Hero several times. Or Yorin has. It''d be wrong of me to only use it when it benefits me.


    And if she sees the status window and there''s no suspicious trait, the receptionist will definitely know something''s up.


    "Okay," I say. "Just ... just don''t ... I dunno ... overreact or something."


    "Yellow, if you don''t show it in the next ten seconds, I''m going to make something up and squeal about it at the top of my lungs."


    I reflexively swallow.


    In a singsong tone, she continues. "I''m thinking, foreign princess runs away to elope with a Dabunese rabbit farmer."


    "That''s not a trait!"


    "They don''t need to know what''s in the letter! C''mon, Yellow. Five, four, three ..."


    "Fine!" I wheel toward her, squeeze my eyes shut and spin the screen around.


    When the silence returns, I peel open one eye to look. There''s a pallor over her face as she stares at my stats. Her eyes aren''t even moving back and forth, they''re just staring at one spot. Surprisingly, I don''t think it''s my title.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Just when the staring starts to get uncomfortable, she comes around the desk and grabs me by the wrist. "Come with me," is all she says before she all but drags me through a pair of doors and further into the guild building.


    Rather than getting pulled into some office or storeroom like I''m expecting, we''re soon in the open air again. Apparently, the entire back half of the guild is a walled-off training ground. It''s the full deal, too, with straw dummies, archery lanes, a climbing wall, an obstacle course and even a big track going around the whole thing.


    Not that I get much chance to check it all out, since the receptionist is making a straight line for a gruff old bear of a man and a younger one that''s barely wearing more than pants, boots and shoulder pads, leaving abs that could shred cabbage on full display.


    They notice us coming, and the younger man beams a smile in her direction despite the metaphorical storm cloud flying over her head.


    "DINA! To what do we owe the occasion?"


    "We have a problem," she announces gravely as we come up on them.


    It''s only then that the two of them seem to take real notice of me, since there''s little else she could be talking about. They don''t seem to be able to make any immediate sense of it, either, though, and look as confused as I probably do.


    "What''s the problem?" the older man asks, and his voice is as growly as he looks, even if he doesn''t actually look hostile.


    She pulls me to the front of her and holds me there with both of her hands gripping my shoulders. "We have a new guild applicant. She''s level three."


    The men look at each other again, still confused.


    "Three, huh?" the younger man asks, then looks me over. "So she needs to be tested. Alright." He begins stretching out his arms and rolling them around. "Sure, I''ve got time."


    "That''s the problem," the receptionist, who I''ve only just learned is named Dina, cuts him off sharply. "You''re too weak."


    His posture freezes halfway through a stretch as his entire jaw dramatically drops and he physically heckles. "Weak?! I''ve tested people five times that level!"


    "I''ve seen your stats, and hers," she answers back. "She''s got a hundred and forty Health, eighty Agility, and more Intellect than your entire squad stacked together."


    He almost seems to deflate, even though none of his dimensions actually change, as he stares at her like he didn''t comprehend anything she just said.


    The older man is rubbing his chin. "That is very high for her level," he agrees, "but it should still be within Kaido''s capabilities for a test. He doesn''t have to beat her, he just has to pressure her."


    "You know, I might have been willing to believe he almost could," Dina argues with what I''m starting to think may be signature sass, "except she''s already at least able to take down a Level 25 golem."


    Both of the men look shocked at that, though the younger one far more dramatically so.


    "Says who?!"


    "Says her."


    "And you believed it?!"


    Dina sighs and removes her grip from my shoulders to plant them on her hips. "I''d believe it if she claimed she killed a dragon. She came with an honest-to-the-Heavens throne admission."


    Both of them take on an expression very similar to the one she had when I handed it to her. Surprisingly, Kaido recovers first.


    "W-well, it was probably just some sort of situational advantage," he reasons desperately. "I''m no golem, so it''s not like she can do the same thing to me!"


    He''s not actually wrong, ironically. If I hadn''t figured out that their weak point was the big, fat eye, I doubt I could have taken even one of those things down in the first test, not with that crossbow they gave me. Well, he''s wrong that shooting him in the eye wouldn''t be just as fatal, but I can see his point.


    He continues to insist, though, and the old man points out that the worst outcome is just that Dina is proven correct. If necessary, they can always send for a higher-level examiner later. It isn''t long before I''m standing across from the half-naked jock in a chalked off sparring ring.


    It''s a generously large space, clearly meant to accommodate more fighting styles than just the close-quarters ones. As it is, if you separated the distance into quarters with three lines, I''d be standing on One and he''d be on Three, and there''s a solid fifty feet between us.


    Optimum distance for a High Noon draw, actually.


    I''m glad I loaded with the paralysis rounds today, just in case they had some sort of test like this. Without a non-lethal option, there''s no way I could engage in sparring. A firearm is too dangerous. Never draw unless you''re ready to kill, isn''t just a maxim for self-defense, where hesitation is more dangerous than not having a gun at all. It''s a testament to the raw power of a supersonic mass of shaped lead.


    My mind goes back to the shop description for the System''s non-lethal option, full of the shop''s typical snark.


    Sometimes, you just don''t want to kill. We get that. All the power in the world at your fingertips, and once in a while, for some bizarre reason, you just don''t want to use it as We intended. That''s fine.


    Our job is to attend to your needs, and YOU need Heavenly Thunder<sup>TM </sup>brand Paralysis Rounds! Guaranteed to be less than lethal and still leaving your foes you FOR SOME REASON don''t want to kill in agonizing pain they can''t even voice!


    They''ve certainly done the job so far. Sure, to call the description''s undertones violent would be selling it short, but they deliver a quick end to any unwanted fights. Even the slimes seemed completely unharmed once the paralysis wore off. Though if the dandy was any indication, they were probably mad as wet hornets.


    Kaido is still wrapping up some last minute warm-up stretches. "Alright, Miss Admission," he calls across. "Just to be clear, this match is a test of your abilities, but you don''t need to worry about doing anything fancy. It''s my job to push you. Yours is just to overcome. It''s normally not much of a risk with newbies, but I''m still required to state the obvious. No killing. Other than that, go nuts! Any questions?"


    I shake my head, but reach down and unclip the strap securing my gun. "How do I know when to start?"


    "Kobi will start us off," he answers as the older man moves to stand along the outside. "He''ll also be judge if necessary."


    But then he plants his feet, and his carefree grin turns wicked as magical energy begins to visibly burn around him. "A few pointers. I''m what''s called a Chi-do Martial Artist. I burn my mana to directly increase all of my physical abilities. Normally, I wouldn''t use the skill during an admission test, but you''ve left me with a bit of something to prove. Don''t worry when you instantly lose the first round, it''s best two out of three."


    I narrow my eyes and brace my own legs, but otherwise don''t move.


    "BEGIN!"


    The old man''s roar is a bellow so loud that it almost covers the explosion as Kaido kicks off. And yet he doesn''t complete even a single full step as that intimidating aura falters and fades, and he crashes to the ground in a knot of twitching limbs.


    I haven''t hardly budged, either. The only movement I made was to grip my pistol and spin it ninety degrees with just enough lift to clear leather.


    The explosion wasn''t from the monk.


    I''m pretty sure I catch a grin on Kobi''s lips. "Yeah, girly, that''ll do. Mark her down as a Bronze for now, Dina. We can always tweak it later."


    The dark-skinned receptionist blows a raspberry at Kaido that I doubt he''s even aware of, the universal sign of, I told you so, then heads over to collect me. "You got it, boss!"


    And as we''re heading back toward the lobby, she''s got more skip than the doom clouds she had on the way in. "Hah, an Iaidoka with range. You weren''t kidding, Yellow! Let''s go get our little monster princess her shiny new badge!"

 Chapter 24 - Coffee

    Chapter 24


    Coffee


    "HOO-AY!"


    The shout goes up the moment the first person catches sight of the bronze badge on my collar, and before I know it, the lot of them are corralling me right to the center of the bar. I''m not even sure if the stool reached up to catch me or if someone pushed me down on it.


    "Alright, back it up, back it up, you baboons!" The red bartender from before wastes no time trying to settle them down, but it''s like beating back an incoming tide. "If you suffocate her to death, she''s not gonna be around long, is she?!"


    Enough shouting of threats of cutoffs manages the feat, anyway. It takes a minute, but soon, there''s only a handful of gossipers within arm''s reach and she''s grinning down at me while she dries her hands off.


    "Well, that was a fast exam," she notes first off. "And without a mark on you, you went and jumped right past Wood and Iron. How many pieces did you leave that hunk Kaido in to pull that off?"


    I give an embarrassed smile and try to ignore the gossipers leaning in as I scratch at my cheek. "Ah, he''s fine ... I used a status effect so I wouldn''t cause any actual damage."


    From the chattering that gets going in the other adventurers, I get the impression that wasn''t as harmless to say as I thought it would be, but Lady Red just gives a casual grin.


    "You don''t see many adventurers picking up status magic," she explains. "At least, nothing where the effect isn''t just a bonus. Too much need for actual damage output when we''re on our own. If you can consistently deliver on that, you''ll have your pick of squads as a support caster."


    At her words, I glance down to her chest and see a badge the color of white gold, and her grin''s a little wider when my eyes snap back up.


    "Retired," she answers my unspoken question, and pulls her leg up onto the counter. Or, well, what''s left of it. She has only half a thigh, and after that, it''s some sort of runed construct. Steel and wood, if I had to guess. A prosthetic limb. "Word of advice, kid, basilisks have a lousy sense of humor."


    "... Noted."


    She nods and pulls the limb back behind the counter again. "Now I hang around to keep these chucklefucks in line."


    I blink, surprised the Essence actually translated that, and I can''t help but wonder what the original word is.


    Obviously, the bartender just thinks her crass language shocked me, and she gives a bark of laughter. "Yeah, had you figured for upper crust, Yellow. Get used to it, you''re going to hear a lot worse in this line of work. Now, I believe I promised you your first drink! Know what you want?"


    I ignore the raucous shouts of, "Juice," and, "Give her milk," from the crowd, but then my nose catches a whiff of a nutty, bitter aroma I never expected to smell again.


    "... You have coffee?!"


    Red''s eyes widen and she lets out a long, dramatic whistle. "New girl''s got tastes! Or are you just from out west? Sure, I''ll pour you a cup."


    She gets me a cylindrical tea mug and starts pouring the steaming brown-amber fluid in. "Fair warning, if you want it on the regular, it''s a lot pricier than tea. You''ll need to put in the work."


    I take a long, deep inhale of the steam, already barely able to resist indulging. "Oh, I plan on it. I''m aiming to raise enough to get a new house built, after all!"


    "Uh-huh? What kind of house?"


    I give a bit of a shrug before carefully lifting the mug. "I haven''t decided a lot of the details. A couple floors, big kitchen, entertainment room, space for company."


    Red belts out another laugh. "Yellow, that''s no house! You''re saving up for a manor!"


    "Yeah, well, now you know why I plan on putting in the work."


    "So I do." She watches me take a long sip of the coffee. "So how is your raw damage output?"


    I have to force myself not to spit the coffee back out and I end up swallowing the still-too-hot liquid instead, much to her amusement as I cough.


    The bartender grins like that''s some kind of answer. "That good, huh? I was worried you''d turned yourself into a one-trick pony. It''s all well and good to make sure you fill a niche people will want, but you don''t want to find yourself the last one standing with an empty quiver, either."


    Why are all these figures of speech getting translated NOW?


    I clear my throat and look over at her like she might be dangerous, peg leg or no. "I didn''t say anything," I insist.


    "You didn''t have to, kid," she just grins back. "I''ve been doing this for far too long not to be able to tell the difference between someone who''s weak and timid about it and someone who found a god''s balls and is too used to being normal to own it."


    I have to shake my head at that. "Who are you?"


    "Zeiya," she pops back like she doesn''t know that wasn''t what I meant. "Once upon a time, I was a Platinum rank adventurer. Traveled all over, and not just Furinshao, either. Saw lots of things, met lots of people. Kicked a whole lot of monster ass."


    She turns her gaze from me and looks over the tables of adventurers loudly talking over their food. "Now, I''m just a bartender, worried about which of these idiots isn''t going to be back for dinner tonight." The redhead turns her attention back to me. "Somewhere along the way, I got really good at reading people."


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    "You do that a lot?"


    Zeiya just rolls her eyes with a chuckle. "Eh, you''re a brighter story than most, kid. Take my word for it and don''t become a bartender if you''ve got a bleeding heart. Not an occupation in the world that sees more sadness come through their door."


    I arch an eyebrow at that claim. "Not even an undertaker?"


    She looks me over like she''s trying to decide if I actually said that, but grins. "Clever girl, Yellow, but who do you think the undertaker goes to?"


    I concede her point with another sip of coffee, only to nearly spit it out again when a half-naked man comes charging out of the back offices, bellowing at the top of his lungs.


    "YOU CHEATING LITTLE YELLOW BRAT!!! I SAID BEST TWO OUT OF--"


    The casualness with which Zeiya flicks the cup she''s cleaning without even looking over at Kaido makes it seem like it should just topple over onto the counter next to her. I and everyone else can only just stare as it slams right into the bridge of his nose from halfway across the open space from here to reception.


    The retired Platinum rank adventurer one-shots the monk in front of everyone without even making an effort, and his unconscious form topples back with all the grace of a felled oak.


    The gossipers take that as a sign to clear out, and even I find myself taking my next couple sips trying to hide between my shoulders. The whole time, she just keeps wiping things down like nothing noteworthy happened at all.


    "That''s actually a pretty good status duration, kid," is all she says.


    And yeah, she''s probably right, the way he came out here full of fury, the paralysis had probably only just worn off. Considering she no doubt knows where the test took place, that would give her a pretty solid idea of how long it lasted.


    But I can''t get my mind off of the stunt she just pulled like it was nothing. If Zeiya wasn''t retired and she''d been my examiner, I don''t think I could have won. There''s only one other person I can think of that has given me such an overwhelming impression of power.


    It''s not long before I can no longer resist asking.


    "... Have you ever fought the empress?"


    Zeiya pauses in her work for a protracted moment before she looks over at me again like she didn''t hear me clearly. Just when I''m considering repeating myself, though, she throws her head back and full-belly laughs like Abbot and Costello just rolled into town.


    "Met our fair lady in the flesh, have you, kid?!" she responds when she finally finds her words. "You really do have some connections! Guess I should be flattered if the first thing that little display makes you think of is her! But she''d already left this corner of the empire by the time I got here, and we never really moved in the same circles, anyway."


    She gets a distant look in her eyes as she goes back to her work. "No, pretty sure we''ve stood in the same room once or twice, but we never threw hands. Kinda glad, honestly. I probably could''ve given her a good showing when I still had full use of my leg, but it would have meant tangling with her friend, too."


    "Her friend?"


    Zeiya nods. "Every time I ever saw her, before she married I mean, back when we were both active, she was always traveling with this elf. Never looked like much, but shadowed that girl everywhere she went. By the time she started hanging out with the prince, everyone just assumed the elf was some sort of servant girl, but she had this way of smiling, like whatever you were up to, she was just indulging you."


    I witness the platinum rank adventurer shiver. "You couldn''t have paid me to pick a fight with her if you were offering me a kingdom."


    I ... have a sneaking suspicion I know of that particular elf, too, and decide that''s a dangerous line of conversation that I''d rather avoid, so I shift the topic back.


    "But with just the empress, you said you think you could''ve had a decent chance?"


    But she scoffs. "I said I think I could''ve given a good showing. Hells, if she stuck to her sword, I might''ve had a chance at coming out on top. Not a big one, but it''d exist."


    "She''s an Iaidoka, isn''t she?" I ask. "What else would she have besides her sword? It''s kind of in the name."


    She gives me another look similar to when I asked in the first place, and she sets her dishes down again before leaning over the counter so our faces are only a foot or so apart. "You are very well-informed, Yellow. Don''t suppose you know her stats, too?"


    My face flushes and I break her gaze before I can stop myself. "Isn''t that rude to ask?!"


    But this just triggers another round of laughter. "You do! You fucking do! Oh, Yellow, what in the eleven Hells brought you all the way out here?!"


    I force myself to frown, humiliated that she keeps pulling answers out of nowhere like that. "I told you, I''m going to build a house."


    "Right, right, the multi-story house with a moat and walls."


    "I am not putting in a moat," I argue. "A pond, maybe, but that''s not a moat! And why does it get bigger every time you tease me for it?!"


    "Because that''s the part that''s so funny," she chuckles in reply, but settles down again. "But I suppose I can make it up to you by answering your question."


    I''m listening attentively as she gets comfortable leaning on the bar again.


    "You''re right, Yellow, if she fought like any other Iaidoka, the empress wouldn''t have much besides her sword to fight with, not that that''s any mark against her. Her skill with a blade is plenty to be proud of all by itself. But I guess that wasn''t enough for her, because she went and studied magic on top of it."


    Zeiya shrugs dismissively. "Of course, she already had her class, so she was never going to be as good at it as an actual caster. She could still learn it like any classless person, but she''d always have less mana and raw power in her casting than the real deal. That''s why a lot of martials don''t bother with anything beyond the basic utilitarian stuff.


    "They''re idiots, of course, and anyone that gets past silver understands that having the right spell can turn a lot more battles than just knowing a whole bunch of them. Body enhancers, elemental infusions, at least some basic sort of self-healing, that''s what most martials will go for. They make you better at what you''re already good at, they''re relatively easy to learn, and if you only use them when you need them, they don''t take a lot of mana."


    But the barkeep sighs and flicks a lock of magma-red hair out of one eye. "That''s not the route our empress went, though. No, she learned spells. Turned herself into a proper Witchblade, classes be damned."


    My mind goes back to Xuhitana''s traits. One of them actually used that same term. "What''s a Witchblade?"


    "It''s a rare class said to be the best of both worlds," Zeiya explains easily. "Able to stand their ground against a martial, able to stay back and support with magic, but really excelling when they mix and match. It''s not the only class that pulls double duty, and they''re all rare, but Witchblade is unique in that, supposedly, you can''t get it just on draw through the temple. You''ve gotta have an actual witch teach it to you."


    I remember how Genstai mentioned that only the temple can grant classes. Of course, I''m living proof that''s not entirely correct, but Xuhitana''s class didn''t actually change to Witchblade, either. "Is it even really a class, then?"


    "Dunno," she admits. "I suppose you could call it a style, but stories always talk about it as a class. Point being, she does it, and it apparently makes her utterly frustrating to actually fight. She''s never where she looks like she is, can suddenly be somewhere else, has a full elemental blade suite, and even if you are stronger than her, you won''t be for long as she wears you down with status and hexes."


    I blink. "That sounds absurd."


    But the veteran just scoffs and gives me a sideways glance. "About as absurd as a level three martial dropping a chi-do martial artist seven times her level with an hour-long status spell, I''d reckon. You and the pretty princess have more than a little in common, you know?"


    I give her the flattest frown I can muster. "Do your bosses know how much snooping you do?"


    But rather than looking guilty, she just beams a wide grin. "Yellow, if they don''t, they''re really bad at their jobs."

 Chapter 25 - Letter

    Chapter 25


    Letter


    To Her Imperial Highness Xuhitana Furinshao


    From Your Loyal Servant Sacred Yorin Holt


    On the Matter of the Growth of the Gunslinger Hero


    First, Your Highness, the onus of responsibility demands that I remind you that no letter addressed directly to or from the Imperial Throne goes unopened by both spies and patriots, no matter what the state of the seal may claim. As such, while I appreciate and value the openness with which you shared your daily trials with me in your previous missive, I must also encourage you to maintain a more professional air appropriate to your station in any such future communication.


    Always assume that all of the Empire reads every word you put to scroll, for the day may come when they very well might.


    That being said, yes, Lord Liumori is, as you so regally phrased it, "an insufferable pile of cockatrice excrement." Fortunately, for all of his bluster, the true authority of his house rests in his wife, a well-read woman of stability and reason. Pay her a visit in the afternoon, after the third bell, when she takes her tea and her husband is away, and she will handle him in your stead. Bring a gift of gyokuro, her favorite.


    On the matter of the family of Lord Hagasu, while I weep that such corruption was discovered while I was away, any advice I may offer will arrive only after the matter has already been addressed, by manner of one path or another. The men and women of the Capitol Guard are both loyal and competent, and I am certain they will distinguish themselves with the same honor that they always do.


    Even if my words may arrive too late, however, I must stress the importance of not allowing zeal to overturn common sense. Not every family from the Western Demesne will have been so turned, but neither are nobles alone particularly more vulnerable or resilient to corruption than any other citizen. If you attempt to cleanse your city of darkness with fire, you will hold naught but its ashes by the end of it. Investigate, but do not hunt. Remember that they remain your dear and precious subjects until it is proven otherwise.


    To move finally to the true topic of our exchange, Hero Remmi Lee has yet to leave Dabun on a single quest, though we have been here a month. I am shocked to admit, however, that this has not meant a lack of growth. Rather, she is quick to expand in nearly any avenue presented to her, and is easily distracted by any new idea that takes her fancy.


    Perhaps ''distracted'' is a poor descriptor. She is not a mote blown about by the whims of the breeze. If anything, she is like a deep-rooted weed, persistent and hard to move. Wherever her tendrils find new gaps in the stone, she drills into it with a relentless focus, yet not because she believes it will render some desired prize. She seems to do it merely to see the result, utterly blind to the predicament of the stone, itself.


    She is insightful and clever in terrifyingly equal measure, traits I do not believe can be solely attributed to her upbringing and the nature of her homeland. Or, at least, I find myself praying to the Heavens that she is atypical of her kind in that regard. If she is not, then I fear for the Empire should we two nations ever meet, for we shall surely be overwhelmed. Not from malice, hostility or any other malevolent aspect of the human condition. They could topple us by pure incidence, the exuberance of a child throwing itself at an older grandparent, unaware that their bones cannot endure the impact.


    I do not doubt that my words must seem overdramatic, the rantings of an overstressed mother hen. I can only appeal to our shared history and your awareness that I am prone to no such behavior.


    The child has no concept of the nature of our world, but rather than hindering her, it seems to grant her sacrilegious leaps of genius that transform her works beyond even those heights we expect of Heroes. Stranger still, the Essence seems to condone her activities, actively enabling her.


    This marvelous effect seems to transcend even specialty. The Swordmaster Hero, for example, will no doubt become a legend of sword skill, retiring to train the next generation and perhaps even crafting the next divine blade as his combat skills exceed the capacity of mortal smiths to keep apace.


    I have no doubt that Remmi will produce similar advancements in projectile weaponry, even if she does so unintentionally. Indeed, she has already started. The Interior Secretary''s slight against her has stuck with her to such a degree that she has been unable to leave be the state of development of our repeating crossbows.


    I need not explain how they are derided as true weapons, nor why. Their poor performance in every field but rate of discharge renders anything smaller than emplacement weapons as inferior to any alternative save for in the niche role as home defense tools for inexperienced women and children against unarmored assailants. Even then, they must often be tipped with poison to be effective, and it is the poison that tends the task, rather than the weapon, itself.


    Truly, I was as shocked as any other when she was actually able to take out golems with the one she was given. We should have known there that she was Hero-born as certainly as any of the others, for we did not arm the Battlemage Hero with an oiled torch, after all.


    Xuhi, she already has a prototype that she constructed in her spare time, late into the evening when there was no longer a sun by which to work outside. She showed it to me, as proud of her work as a young child bringing home their first pottery. Surely she would have demonstrated its use to me but for her lack of steel, leaving vital parts carved of heartwood, which she feared would break under the strain of the weapon''s mechanisms.


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    I knew even then that I should have praised her for her work, encouraged it. Her prototype alone, even in its current incomplete state, could revolutionize infantry combat. So many lives would be saved by the ability to quickly dispatch enemies from a distance instead of merely as support for melee combatants. It might even remove the latter from military doctrine entirely.


    But I couldn''t. May the Heavens have mercy upon me for my sins, but as I held that alien machine in my hands, my heart knew only fear at the terrible things she is capable of unleashing on our world in the blissful innocence of a child''s good intentions. Instead of praise, I scolded her and swore to keep her under closer supervision, so that she would not be permitted to drift according to her own currents.


    Aptly, she called it being "grounded." Certainly, I have chained a bird to a stone for fear of where it might fly. Of course, I am sure she did not use the term intending for such an esoteric meaning. She is too straight-forward in word and mannerism.


    As I have said above, however, this ability to innovate from little transcends her specialty of projectile weaponry, where alone we would expect to see it. Perhaps if her prototype had not been the last in a long line of insanity, I would have been better prepared to respond to it appropriately.


    The reason it has taken a month before she was prepared to set out is because she did not wish to work out of an inn or the mayor''s guest room. This is a sentiment that I can honestly say that I share. Mayor Graf Yomei seems a good and earnest man, but one cannot labor long in the house of another.


    Abundant in both energy and drive, Remmi insisted on placing her mark on her new land by bending the wild growth to her will. I thought this a noble pursuit and permitted it, as I shared in my last letter. She took only some basic tools we purchased from the local smithy, and a tent and a few days'' worth of provisions left from our wagon''s stock, and went up into the forest.


    The expectation was that she would come back every few days to rest and restock, and after doing a rough, amateur job of it sufficient to feel she''d laid her claim, we''d get professionals to take over while she began honing her skills in earnest.


    I should say that such was my expectation, and the expectation of the mayor. Thinking it a sane and reasonable expectation, we neglected to share it with Hero Remmi, or even to ask her of her own expectations.


    I did not see her again for an entire month. During that month, she returned to town only twice. The first was to check with the mayor what legal requirements there were for building a proper road between the town and the estate. The second was finishing actually building the road. Neither time did she stay long, only finishing her task and heading back up into the forest.


    Yes, she built an entire road, not a path, not a single lane, a road wide enough for a crew to cart construction supplies, all of the way from the village to the estate. By herself. Presumably within no more than three days. And, yes, it is up to code. I checked it, myself.


    Until that point, the knowledge that she was not in danger had stayed my hand and kept me from checking in on her. Even Kyuuga had taken to keeping a close eye on her, so I left her to her self-exploration and focused on laying the groundwork for the temple.


    I regret that decision now.


    I have said that her energy is boundless, but I must stress that this is not hyperbole. I suspect she has a hidden extra talent or skill that is greatly accelerating the recovery of her already excessive stamina. She had literally spent sunrise to sunset every day for an entire month doing the heavy manual labor of an entire construction crew, all without more than the most cursory of rests.


    She cleared two acres of land in that time, Xuhi. Stumps, rocks, everything. She built what she called a shack, but I say to you it was a home of such quality that all but a nobleman or a particularly indulgent merchant would be pleased with it. And she built it all out of hardwood, as notoriously difficult to work with as that is. She dug a well and lined it with bricks and mortar, with a crank pulley she built, herself.


    And she built a slime breeding farm. Not for the slimes. For the points. I don''t have any idea how many she farmed from them, but with just an inkling of the general skills she must have purchased to do all of this, I tremble at the thought of what the number might have been.


    She didn''t even realize how ridiculous what she was doing was. She just saw things that needed to happen, and she did them.


    I am unspeakably grateful that I did not have both of you to raise at the same time. She is so much like you were, Xuhi, that it is painful. Brilliant, determined, and completely lacking in good sense. Were it that I had to deal with both of you at once, I would be forced to chain you both to my side, and then you would conspire to chew through the iron or some other such nonsense.


    Hero Remmi Lee left for the guild hall just before I sat down to pen this letter. It should be a relatively harmless affair. With the throne admission I sent with her, the whole process should be completed without anything too extreme occurring. I didn''t tell her it was a throne admission, of course, or she would have refused to take it.


    So much like you ...


    When you next hear from me, I hope it will be with details on her first successful missions.


    ~ Your faithful servant and friend


    Yorin


    *Yorin*


    "Yorin! I''m back!"


    I look up from the scroll on the table in front of me when I hear Remmi calling my name. I''m kneeling on a pillow before my desk, which sits before a broad window looking out on what will become the temple grounds.


    This building is smaller than what the girl built for herself, but is also done in the local style. Her "cabin" had been ... strange to me. This is much more familiar, much more comfortable. I have a generous work area, and just on the other side of a sliding door, I have a place to sleep and take my evening meal. It is enough.


    ... I control myself admirably when I see the light glinting off of her new badge. I smile back at her and return her call. "Let me just finish this letter, Remmi, and I''ll be right out. I want to hear all about how it went."


    I really don''t. Or rather, I''m dreading what I''m going to hear.


    Hurriedly, I jot down a last-minute addition to the letter, my face never losing its outward serenity.


    P.S. - Oh gods, she just returned, and she has a bronze badge. Something has gone wrong. And the way she is bouncing around, someone has given her coffee. I apologize in advance for any murder charges you may receive notice of prior to my next missive.


    I quickly stamp it with my seal, roll the scroll up and tie it with the appropriate ribbon. With that done, I stand and move over to the actual door leading out. I take in a deep breath, stabilize my emotions, and slide the door open to greet my charge.

 Chapter 26 - Kimchi

    Chapter 26


    Kimchi


    *Lady Amara Hagasu*


    I know that I''m considered to be a little odd among the women of nobility, especially with what was once limited to mere rumors being brought to light as fact since our return to the much greater spotlight of the capitol.


    I''ve never really been able to bring myself to care, though. How I run my household is no business of theirs. And, really, my style of matronage wouldn''t work for their households, anyway.


    We have always kept fewer servants than most noble families of similar station, a fact well known and oft-ridiculed by our peers, and that number has dropped even lower since we fled the Demesne. Sadly, a good portion of that is due to them just not making it. I''ve always viewed our long-time servants as extended family. For those with surviving family, I insisted to my husband that we give generously in memorial gifts.


    Well, I say insisted, but it is a matter on which we have always been of like mind, so he agreed immediately.


    The truth of the matter of our few servants is simply that our family is not a very large one, only myself, my beloved husband, and our two beautiful children, and the truth of my oddity is that I like doing certain things for that family with my own two hands. Even now, I''m planning dinner for when my children return from their lessons.


    Especially now that we have no grounds to maintain, we really only have a handful of cleaning staff. Less than half a dozen maids that tend to laundry, dishes, dusting and the like. I know them all by name. On holidays, we''ve always insisted they join us at an otherwise far too large dining table.


    My husband always said that my heart was as vast as the empire, and I''d put every soul within its boundaries at our table if I could find a way to make them fit. I always laughed it off and told him to stop making fun of me.


    Now I wish he was around to ignore me and do it again and again until the embarrassment made my head explode.


    As that memory rolls through my head, I pause in front of the memorial shrine for him, the portrait of his ever so handsome face basking in the flickering light of the candles. I knew before word reached the capitol because of the locket that lays before that picture even now. We each had one, linked to each other. It grows hot when the person it is linked to is in danger, and breaks when they die.


    I am certain that mine is still perfectly intact wherever those horrible Heroes left his body, but his sits in two pieces, the silver hinge shattered irreparably.


    I begged him not to do it, it wasn''t worth the risk. But my husband had always been braver of heart than any would credit him, and he knew that every day those Heroes lived was another chance everything glorious could be undone. Worse, they could threaten his family, and that great man would see both the empire and its salvation burn before he could tolerate that.


    I sigh and turn away from the memorial, wiping a single tear from my eye and flicking it away before rubbing the red stain off my finger with my thumb. Crying can be done later. My children will be hungry when they return. Now that they are all that I have left in this world, they must come first.


    I run a hand over the rune switch at the top of the steps, illuminating the mana lights as I head down into the basement. We keep the canned goods down here instead of up in the kitchen pantry because the temperature stays lower and more stable. It''s also better for their longevity if they stay out of direct light as much as possible.


    My husband and I had a plan, of course, in case the worst should happen, and the day the locket broke, I relayed to our children their part in it. Poor little Mei cried so much at the news of her father''s death that I never was certain how much of it she really heard, but Mataru had kept his chin up and listened intently despite how he must have felt.


    Dear husband, you would have been so proud of him.


    Running, especially too soon, would have made us look guilty, and we would have spent the rest of our lives on the run, being hunted by imperial soldiers even though we''d never done a thing that wasn''t for its betterment.


    So we have stayed in the capitol, behaved ourselves, remained model citizens. Even when news of his death reached the capitol, the claim was against a noble, and even if that claim came from Heroes, it had to be investigated. That meant an even longer wait as a team went out to the border of the Western Demesne to confirm the reports, and then traveled all of the way back.


    I pull a jar of kimchi from the shelf in a section of the basement a little colder still than the rest of it, closed off as it is by a false wall, and I turn it over in my hands as I recall the contents.


    This whole batch was made from the daughter of that traveling merchant that came through six months ago. They never did find the poor thing. She was too prone to wandering off and the capitol had too much excitement for her to restrain herself. She probably ran off into its poorer parts following some darkly handsome young man that promised her a night to remember.


    I remember how broken the merchant looked when, after a month and dwindling finances, he finally had to admit defeat and left the capitol. One thought filled my mind as I watched him leave.


    He was too weak. So much so that he brought shame to his daughter''s memory. If something like that ever happened to Mei, I would raze the entire city until I found her or killed the person responsible. I would sell my very soul to the eleven hells to get justice for her if needs must. The duty of a parent demands nothing less.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    This particular jar was made using her eyes. Their lovely hue is no longer distinguishable, as they had been mashed and mixed into the sauce. It''s a small jar, only enough for one meal, but that makes it convenient for me. Indeed, most of the jars are small like this, with only a few larger ones set aside for meals with company.


    Unlike that weak man she once called father, we didn''t let any piece of the girl go to waste. Most of her had gone to making assorted variations of kimchi, as such had been the season, but even her bones were ground and mixed with flour for baking or set aside whole and scored for broths.


    One of my favorite parts, though, is also the most difficult: The wine. The tricky part is keeping the blood moving until the coagulants break down. I cheat by picking seasonings that are known by herbalists for their blood-thinning properties. Of course, the mixture remains quite thick for a beverage, so it''s diluted further with coconut water.


    Ironically, back in the Demesne, we were so far inland that this was by far the most expensive component of the recipe. It''s one of the few things that is actually cheaper in the capitol.


    Of course, like any wine, or kimchi, it still must be allowed time to age, but the end result is a semi-sweet vintage with undertones of copper, clove and cinnamon. We especially like it served hot in the winter months.


    Of course, it will actually be the winter months by the time this girl''s batch is ready for consumption. I''m getting thirsty just thinking about it.


    I head back upstairs with the jar in hand. Most everything else I will need is in the pantry. I''m thinking I''ll pair it with salted fish, and Hanna just brought that lovely basket of fresh peas in today. Some boiled potatoes would settle the stronger flavors of most of the rest of the meal nicely, I think.


    The bell for the front door sounds and one of the maids answers it. I could wait for the maid to see the guests to the tea room and then come to get me, but I decide to embrace my quirkiness, and I make a detour on my way to the kitchen that will bring me in view of the entryway.


    As soon as I see who it is, I bow as low as I can while still holding the kimchi in my hands. In my doorway stands the very person I had been dreading to see for the last month, in full battle dress no less, and a contingent of royal guards behind her.


    "My Empress," I declare without raising myself from my knees, "what has your humble servant done to deserve such an honor as your visit this day?"


    Her gaze goes about the opening room of my home before coming down on me. "The investigation team has returned from the border and delivered its finalized report. Lady Hagasu, your husband''s corrupted remains were found at the site and corroborated the Heroes'' testimony."


    Though I keep my head down and my mouth shut, my back stiffens. I could have stopped it, controlled the muscle tension, but I don''t want to. Besides, it''s better if I don''t.


    Of course, Empress Xuhitana notices. "... Do you have something to say?"


    "... No, Your Highness," I answer after swallowing. "It was the only thing I could expect had happened when you come to my doorway in full armaments. But still ..."


    I swallow again, my tongue feeling like it is too big for my mouth. "I''m still in denial. I know we have no reason to doubt the words of the Heroes, but I also know my husband. I am incapable of imagining him as a monster. Please, forgive me my inadequacies."


    She nods after staring at me for a bit longer and returns to casting her eyes about us. "... Are your children home?"


    "No, my Empress," I reply without hesitation. "Nor do I expect them to return this evening. They were to be leaving the city as soon as their lessons concluded for the day."


    "Where?"


    "I have family in the Serazin province, as my lady is well aware. I''ve arranged for them to stay there for a time."


    "Yes," she notes thoughtfully, "I recall you were of House Ettia before you married, now that you mention it. What is the reason behind the trip?"


    This is precisely the reason, I mentally reply, though it doesn''t remotely reach my lips or my expression. That was the children''s portion of the plan. What happened to me didn''t matter. What was important was that they were kept safe. If they ever saw guards outside the house, they were to immediately take a prepaid carriage to my brother''s estate as far away from the capitol as possible.


    Though what I say is surprisingly close to the truth. "They have never been exposed to as much bustle and crowding as the imperial capitol possesses, Your Highness. They are accustomed to wide open spaces and horizons lined by trees instead of walls. Adjusting over the past year has been hard on them, and only grew worse with the news of my husband''s passing.


    "Not only have they lost their father, but the conditions surrounding his death have left a pallor over our house. There has not been a day since the news reached the capitol that they have not faced mockery or derision. I have long been considering giving them a reprieve in which to regather themselves."


    "Long," she repeats. "Is that why you''ve had a standing order for a carriage to Serazin Province for the last two weeks?"


    I''m not surprised she knows of that. It''s nearly impossible to keep a secret in the imperial capitol. As it was, I''d already put off ordering the reserve until the news officially arrived.


    "Yes, Empress," I agree. "I wanted the option there in case they would come to find the burden too great. Truthfully, I want dearly to go with them, to see family again during this time, but I knew it wouldn''t be permitted while my husband was under investigation."


    Xuhitana nodded thoughtfully. "I''m afraid I must still deny you, Lady Hagasu. I will not send forces after your children, however. Let them go in peace. They will not be made to suffer for the sins of their parents."


    I hold back my tears, but only in the normal human fashion, with sharp, deep breaths restraining my sobs. "Thank you, Your Highness. I shall ask nothing else of you for all of my days."


    "Then I trust you will not object to the sentence I must lay upon you as the surviving head of House Hagasu," she replied. "Your family''s nobility has been dissolved and your property within the city is confiscated by the Throne. This would also include all lands entrusted to you, but given the state of the Western Demesne, I find that would be redundant. Your personal wealth and belongings will be left to you, though I suggest you utilize them wisely to make them last."


    "Does this mean I am not under arrest?"


    "You are not," she confirms, allaying the second worst fear I had of this outcome. "However, you will not be allowed to leave the city. Your property will be searched and any belongings you remove from it will be subject to examination. The severity of the crime your husband committed demands we check for any other connections he may have had and any collaboration with others. This, of course, makes his immediate family the most prime suspects."


    "I understand completely, Your Highness," I submit immediately. "I have no objections to your commandment and swear my utmost cooperation."


    Really, it is stunningly generous of her. The Empress'' heart may be as big as my husband always proclaimed my own to be.


    It''s times like these that remind me exactly why we want to save the Empire, why it''s worth saving, even if it doesn''t understand that.

 Chapter 27 - Partner

    Chapter 27


    Partner


    Yorin set another rule when I came back with a bronze badge: No taking any quests above Wood rank without at least one other Bronze rank adventurer with me. Apparently, she''s worried I might do something reckless since I still know so little about this world.


    And, y''know what, I can absolutely understand that. Unfortunately, there ... aren''t any other Bronze rank adventurers in Dabun.


    "Sorry, kid," Zeiya had empathized when I complained about it to her. "Price of greatness. Serazin''s a pretty peaceful province in general. When you jumped straight to Bronze, you priced yourself out of good company. Everyone you''re gonna find around here is either too low to take Bronze quests or too high to bother."


    Like I did then, I sigh as I stare down into my cup before taking a pull of the dark amber within.


    Yorin also tried to ban me from coffee, but that''s one rule I will not be following. If she doesn''t like it, she can come make me, herself.


    ... Which, ah, she ... probably could, actually, now that I think about it, considering Xuhitana thought the priestess'' stats so much more impressive than her own. Lucky me, she seems to have a powerful aversion to setting foot anywhere near the guild office.


    Besides, if I can get my hands on some unroasted beans, I could probably even grow my own. Then she''d have a real time stopping me.


    I must be making some kind of face, because my inner monologue is interrupted by the bartender''s laughter, and I look over at her in confusion.


    "Whatever monster you''re pumping yourself up for, Yellow," she explains without having to be asked, "keep it up! Puff those cheeks big enough and maybe you can convince it you''re too scary to mess with!"


    I frown as I pat my cheeks. I''m sure I was doing no such thing. But this just makes her laugh again as she heads down the bar to tend to another adventurer.


    I very deliberately do not pout and instead turn my attention to the quest board across the room. Like in the stories, it''s essentially a bulletin board, but unlike those stories, it''s a far cry from a chaotic mess of papers pinned in the first open space.


    The board doubles as a rough map of the province, less detailed than the proper cartography displayed on another wall, but instead drawn in generalities so that there is more room within each space. There are then a series of well-organized papers the size of post-it notes, each with a brief blurb describing a quest, mission or assignment, and sorted by the type of pin holding them there.


    An adventurer seeking a quest would look over the notes in their desired bracket of difficulty, then take that note over to the receptionists to hear more. If they like what they hear, they can register for it. If they don''t, they put the note back where they found it.


    Overwhelmingly, wooden pins dominate the area around Dabun. It''s not really that there''s a lack of work to be had, but the tasks available are all tedious with horrible pay.


    I got desperate enough yesterday that I actually went on one. It was literally a, "Chop X Logs," type quest. The System even tracked it for me, albeit with a very mocking summary of the objectives. I spent the entire afternoon at it, getting stared at by rabbits the entire time like even they couldn''t believe I was stupid enough to take such a quest, and then only made a couple tins for all of my work.


    Dina had been the receptionist when I turned in the completion notice, and she marveled that I had gotten it all done in a single afternoon. I had already thought the pay was awful, but I just couldn''t mentally process that the equivalent of four apples was meant to be due compensation for several days of physical labor.


    I have absolutely zero interest in doing another Wood-rank mission. I''d get more points and better pay working for the blacksmith or the wheelwright in town. I know, because I did that, too. They were both shocked to see how quickly I picked up whatever they put me on. I didn''t tell them that was because I bought the relevant skills as quickly as the System offered them.


    ... Not telling Yorin that, either ...


    It was supposed to just be trading labor for the parts I need for the Noodle Spitter and the upgrades to the carriage''s suspension. By the end of either gig, though, they both insisted I did more than the trade required and paid me on top of agreeing to do the jobs. I got a dozen tins between the two of them, and that was after accounting for what I wanted from them.


    And as usual, I came out positive on points, too. A good portion of it was rewards for doing things for the first time, sure, but that just makes it all the more tempting to buy new skills. After all, now that I''ve made back more than I''ve put into it, anything extra is practically free points!


    I did have to upgrade my strength again, though. Some of the tools were really heavy, or required a lot of force to work. Still, it was fun to see their reactions to a tiny thing like me doing that kind of labor.


    I''d upgraded my other stats, too, to maintain my spread, and that brought me up to level 5. I feel like I could jump really high really fast if I wasn''t throttling myself, with how easily that number seems to go up, but it''s probably also because I started at level 1. I doubt it''ll stay that easy, and I like having a cushion of points for emergencies since I always need resources like bullets and machine oil.


    I even unlocked my first new trait, along with another bundle of points for the achievement.


    I pull it up with a couple thoughts and glances to read it over again, just to celebrate the accomplishment a little more.


    <hr>


    JACK OF ALL TRADES (GENERAL)


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    You have mastered general


    skills across a shockingly


    wide range of fields and


    displayed your mastery in


    at least ten (10) of them.


    Those around you recognize


    your bewildering ability


    to do nearly any task


    required of you and you


    gain the following benefits


    when using General Skills:


    - Increases Knowledge


    - Increases Quality


    - Increases Speed


    - Increases Point Gain (50%)


    - Enables Auto-Mode


    Benefits to Quality and


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Speed increase with Skill


    Proficiency.


    <hr>


    I have to be honest, those are some really sweet bonuses. They don''t seem to in any way be lacking compared to the Hero skills I started with. I''d like to have been able to try out the Auto-Mode when gathering that lumber, but, bad luck, I didn''t actually unlock the trait until after I did it.


    Apparently, doing all of that chopping in the forest didn''t count because no one was around to see the results. Or maybe the System gave it to me as a pity reward for actually going through that waste of time in the first place.


    I cycle back to my Skill page and check the new entry the Trait added there.


    <hr>


    AUTO-MODE


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    You have completed a


    particular task so many


    times that you can now


    perform it without need of


    conscious thought.


    This is a Hidden Skill and


    cannot be acquired by any


    means except by meeting the


    necessary conditions. No


    points are expended upon


    acquiring this skill. It


    is granted automatically


    upon meeting the


    requirements.


    Allows you to queue a list


    of qualifying tasks and


    then executes them


    automatically according to


    your current Skill


    Proficiency.


    Automation will cease in


    the event continuation


    presents a danger to the


    user or another threat is


    present, or should


    continuation become


    impossible.


    You gain the following


    penalties while Auto-Mode


    is active:


    - Decreases Proficiency Gain


    - Decreases Point Gain (25%)


    <hr>


    The idea of Hidden Skills fills me with happy little bubbles of excitement and sends my mind racing over what other skills might be hiding within the system and how to unlock them.


    ... Pity that''s another thing I can''t show Yorin.


    Auto-Mode sounds truly game-like in a way most things have only hinted at so far, though the way it''s written makes it sound like I''ll still actually be doing all of the work. Maybe I just zone out while I do it?


    I do notice that the penalty for using it is less than the bonus the Trait gives, so I''d still be at a positive multiplier even disregarding the bonus points I get for being a Hero. I can''t figure out what the actual benefit to the skill really is, though. A quarter drop in point gain, and presumably about the same in improvement of the actual skill, seems incredibly harsh just for being able to be oblivious while you still do the work.


    On the other hand, there''s no mention of any drop in quality or increased failure rate like automated crafting always has in stories. Is it possible that the benefit is the removal of human error from the equation? Would I always simply exercise the skill as optimized as possible for my familiarity with it?


    That ... that would be worth a lot more. In fact, it could even be disgustingly overpowered.


    ... I keep saying I don''t want to be a crafter, but I sure seem to be getting obscenely good at it.


    A girl I''m certain I haven''t seen in here before - all of the week I''ve been a member - passes through my field of vision as she comes into the guild hall and makes her way to the reception desks. She looks about my age - my physical one - and has blue-cream hair in a bouncy bob cut.


    Because of the cut, I can clearly make out her elongated, pointed ears, and she''s got an ornate hunting bow snapped to a harness on her back that''s so nice it has my Carpentry general skill squeeing.


    Despite the stereotype of an elven archer donning the raiments of the forest or something, her clothes are actually really cute and urban. Well, urban for this world, anyway. It makes me wonder if Medieval Chic is a thing. If not, whoever this elf is, she makes a strong argument that it should be.


    I''m caught by surprise when the receptionist points her attention to me, but then my eyes light up when she turns fully toward the bar and I can see her badge.


    Maybe Yorin is right about the coffee, because I''m off of my stool before my cup hits the counter, and I shoot through the eatery like a dart before I even consider my actions, including vaulting right over the dividing wall.


    I manage to remember myself before I tackle her right off of her feet and instead skid to a stop in front of her. I give an incredibly stupid-feeling smile in apology as she recoils so hard she nearly topples herself over, no need for me to have done it at all.


    "Ahaha," I laugh weakly as I try to buy myself time for my brain to catch up with the rest of me. "Sorry about that. I''ve been here a week and you''re the first other Bronze I''ve seen! I''ve been so bored that I let myself get carried away."


    "She''s also on her third cup of coffee!" Zeiya tilts her head around a display to tattle on me from the bar with a big grin on her face. "Best brew in the province!"


    ... Have I really had that much? I frown in thought as I consider it. I vaguely remember Zeiya topping me off a couple times, but did it amount to that much?


    The elf girl, meanwhile, wrinkles her nose at the news. "Eww, you actually like that stuff? I thought only monks drank it."


    I give another weak laugh as I continue to rub the back of my head. "I know it''s an acquired taste, but back home, it''s basically been acquired by everybody. I was actually really excited to find they had it here. I''m in here every morning for it!"


    "And every noon, and every afternoon," Zeiya piped up again despite being halfway across the guild hall. "If I was open overnight, she''d be in here till dawn!"


    Now I know she''s stretching the truth, and I give her my best scowl as I call back, "That''s not true, Zeiya!"


    ... I immediately suspect the scowl was not as intimidating as I intended from the chuckles that rise up from the regulars, including the redhead, herself.


    She concedes, though, and gives her hand a wiggle. "Okay, only some days! But considering you''ve only been here a week, Yellow, that''s still a lot!"


    I turn away from her with a huff and give my attention to the elf once more.


    "So, it looked like the receptionist was pointing you to me? Are you looking for a partner to team up with?"

 Chapter 28 - Culling

    Chapter 28


    Culling


    "Dungeon culling?"


    The archer, who introduced herself as Ayre, looks back to me when I repeat her words. "You''ve never done one?"


    "Never even heard of it," I elaborate. "We don''t have any dungeons where I''m from. Not really. No naturally-occurring ones that would need such a thing, anyway."


    The confusion on her brow grows deeper. "What do you mean?"


    I shrug as I fish for the words. "Just that. Dungeons aren''t a thing that just exists without people building them."


    "... Your people ... build dungeons?"


    "Not in the way you''re obviously imagining," I insist, raising my hands in denial. "The kind you''re talking about, we build for entertainment. They''re things we pay to explore for fun. They don''t work on their own. And they certainly don''t have real monsters."


    They''re also virtual, but I don''t think this is the time to try explaining computers to someone I just met, so I keep that part to myself.


    Ayre looks down at the roll-up map she''s laid out on our table, thinks for a moment, then looks back to me. "... If you don''t have any dungeons, then how does your magic work?"


    "It doesn''t."


    She stares blankly back at me, but I''m getting too used to that reaction, so I just sip my juice - Zeiya cut off my coffee after the vaulting stunt - and watch her back, waiting to see if she''ll push the matter.


    It takes her a few rotations between the map and my face before she comes up with a response. "Are you saying that you''re a Bronze rank adventurer and you don''t know any magic?"


    That isn''t quite where I expected she''d go with it, but I answer easily all the same. "Oh, I do now," I say. "Heck, I paralyzed my examiner when I applied to the guild. There just isn''t any back home. I never saw a single real spell until I left."


    That seems to relieve her. She was probably worried she was signing up to put her life in the hands of some sort of cripple. In the wake of that worry being taken off of her mind, though, she seems to change the topic a bit.


    "That must have been a very hard life."


    I just shrug. "Eh, people keep telling me that, but to me, it was just normal. Not like I knew anything else. And it''s not like we lived like barbarians in caves and dirt huts. We just dealt with problems in other ways, that''s all."


    Still, Ayre shakes her head. "I can''t imagine it. You say you had ways, but ... Modern life is only possible because of magic. We have light in the evening ... hot water, sanitation ... Without magic, if a house caught fire, we couldn''t do anything but watch it burn!"


    I chuckle, just a couple notes, and not at her, but sardonically. The sound catches her attention so sharply that she jerks her head toward me. "Like I said, we had different ways. We accomplished all of the same things you described." And much, much more. "We just relied on natural laws to do it. We move water through mechanical pressure, we light our streets by directing an electric charge through resistant filaments. We heat our water in a boiler, and we use machines and filters to clean it."


    She processed my words for a moment. "... And the fire?"


    I shrug again. "We put that mechanical pressure pump and a really big tank of water on wheels."


    I can see her register that and realize the callback to what I had already said. "Oh, that makes sense ... Still, it sounds so ..."


    When she idles too long trying to find an inoffensive word, I beat her to the chase. "Foreign? Alien? Counterintuitive? Imagine how I felt the first time I realized my water was being spawned from a glowing rock in my wall instead of pumped in from an actual water source."


    That gets a giggle out of her, which I count as progress. "Okay, I can see how that must have seemed when you put it like that." I can tell when she starts considering the implications of what I''ve told her, though. "If you don''t mind me asking, where are you from? I understand you''re not from the Empire, but where in all of Toleste could such a place exist?"


    Toleste, that''s the name of the continent we''re on. It might as well double as the planet name, because the natives generally treat it like the entire world. Sure, there''s oceans, and there''s islands of various sizes, some of them large enough to be their own countries, but it''s entirely possible that this planet we''re on is a Pangean world.


    Either due to an underwhelming amount of tectonic movement or an excessive centralization of it, Toleste may be, for all intents and purposes, all the planet''s landmass in one place. One massive supercontinent. Or, at least, no one''s found another. The Furinshao Empire covers a huge swath of it, and is easily its largest superpower, but there are many other smaller countries beyond its borders. Generally, most anyone I speak with assumes I''m from one of them.


    "Ah, that''s really hard to answer," I fidget with my cheek at her question. "I didn''t come to the Empire over land, so I don''t really know where we are relative to each other."


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    That''s all true, but it also gets me thinking. It''s possible Toleste is, in fact, another planet we could conventionally travel to. But then, it could just as easily be a parallel reality. Though travel is still clearly possible, or I wouldn''t be here. Point being, there might actually be a concept of traversable distance between here and Earth, one way or another.


    Of course, that answer just confuses her more. "Did you take a boat? Get lost at sea?"


    "I got grabbed in a teleportation field," I answer honestly, and her eyes go wide.


    She fumbles with the implication of such powerful, long-range magic, apparently not considering the possibility it came from the Hero Ritual, and I figure now''s as good a time as any to get back on topic.


    I reach over and tap the map on the table. "So these dungeons, give me the grade-school version, what do they have to do with magic and why do we need to cull them?"


    "Grade School?" she repeats, the concept apparently not translating across the Essence System for her. Still, she gives her head a shake to clear it. "You mean for me to keep it simple?"


    I nod and give a grin. "I''m sure I can find some overly heavy book with the collegiate dissertation version for when I need help going to sleep. For now, just enough surface explanation so I can follow along is fine."


    Since this gets another giggle from her, it seems safe to assume that the verbosity of the ... intellectual class transcends spacetime.


    ... Actually, I''ll bet Benarou could have recommended me just such a book ...


    Ayre turns her attention back to the map, as well. "Well, okay, let''s see ... How much do you know about magic now?"


    "I know I''ve got an enumerated amount of magical energy at my disposal," I answer. "I can expend it to produce effects whose creation is independent of natural laws, but once produced obey those laws. And that pool of energy replenishes itself over time after use. Extended use can increase the maximum value of magical energy I can contain."


    The elf gives me the flattest of stares, so flat that even her ears go horizontal as part of the expression. She mutters something, I''m pretty sure it''s, "... collegiate ..."


    Soon, she shakes her head again. "That''s all more about casting, though. What do you know about magic in the world?"


    "Oh." I blink. "Nothing."


    This time, her stare only lasts a short while before transitioning into a sigh as she hangs her head. "You really didn''t grow up with magic ..."


    My embarrassed grin comes back. "I can try to guess?"


    But she shakes her head. "It''s not that difficult." She points to the map for emphasis. "There are two types of power that can disobey what you called natural laws, Essence and Magic. I won''t go into the differences here, but it''s enough to know that Essence flows down to us from the Heavens and Magic flows up to us from the World."


    She gets a look on her face like a stern frown. "Once upon a time, there was a whole belief that this meant that Essence was inherently good and Magic was inherently evil, but we''ve long since known that for the backward superstition it is. It sparked whole wars and a lot of persecution before we figured it out, though. Dark times."


    I nod in understanding. "We had a similar historical era, even without actual magic, where too many people were ruled by mysticism and fear. Just the nature of Man, unfortunately. We go through the same motions no matter where we are."


    But I smile to disperse the gloomy mood. "But neither of our lands are there anymore, and that''s something to be proud of. I''m guessing the truth of Essence and Magic are that both are basically neutral and readily interact with each other?"


    Ayre recenters her focus and nods in confirmation. "That''s right. The problem is more that, since we''re closer to the World than we are to the Heavens, the concentration of Magic is much stronger than that of Essence. On the one hand, that''s why it''s concentrated enough for us to use freely. However, its concentration also results in monsters."


    "Let me guess," I put forth, "high levels of magic cause mutations in natural life over time?"


    The elf frowns in confusion. "I ... I''m sorry, I don''t know that word. Mutations."


    "Deviations from normal evolution," I try to elaborate, but immediately realize I''m repeating my mistake.


    She starts to say something, but I can tell from her face she''s just going to repeat herself, too, and I hold up my hand to stop her.


    "It''s not important," I insist instead. "It''s just that a lot of the monsters I''ve seen since coming here have animal counterparts back home. To use the most ready example, we have rabbits, but they aren''t monsters. They''re much smaller and have no horn, but anyone from Dabun could take one look and tell they''re rabbits."


    "Interesting," she intones, then nods. "It''s the current theory that even monsters are naturally occurring life like anything else, just holding a lot more magical energy, but there''s never been a way to actually prove it. You''d have to ask a researcher for the details, but at least this much is important for any adventurer to know."


    She pauses thoughtfully. "Actually, it''s kind of impressive you came to that conclusion all on your own."


    I shake my head again. "I can''t take credit for it. Evolution is literally a theory of species changing over time through environmental adaptations, so I was already primed to think that way."


    Ayre giggles again. "Maybe you should chat up a researcher. You really talk like one sometimes."


    She ignores my embarrassed expression at that and taps the map again. "Anyway, magic doesn''t just gather in us and monsters. It can also pool into the world in high concentrations."


    "Like wellsprings."


    Ayre nods in confirmation. "Exactly. And when that happens, it''s really too high for anyone to absorb, so it ends up coalescing into a Dungeon, which tends to be some sort of hyper-exaggerated form of its surrounding environment. Since they''re wellsprings of magic, to borrow your term, they''re basically responsible for almost all Magic released into the world.


    "That magic tends to clot up, though, like what creates the dungeon in miniature form. This is what creates dungeon monsters, though since they''re created directly from magic, they''re distinct from their real equivalents. You can even see monstrous versions of the civilized races, though that''s rare. Presumably because imitating us requires more energy."


    "And I''m betting," I venture, "that despite being of the same species, these dungeon versions aren''t up for barter and chat."


    "Most definitely not. They can be cunning, but can''t actually communicate. Stories say even Heroes can''t do it, even though they''ve got Essence translating for them."


    The elf begins to motion with her hands. "If left alone, a dungeon will continue to pour out concentrated magic over time and will grow and expand to absorb more of the surrounding area. There are fairy tales of whole villages being consumed by growing dungeons because nobody strong enough would come deal with it."


    "So, if I''m following along here," I put in, "going through and popping these clots disperses the energy and keeps it from expanding?"


    Ayre beams a bright smile at me, her ears wiggling a bit. "Are you sure you''ve never heard any of this before?"


    She''s only the second elf I''ve ever met, and I''m realizing how subdued Yorin''s expressions have been. Maybe because of how much time the priestess spends among humans? Or is it the burden of her position? Either way, Ayre''s expressive range is like fireworks by comparison.

 Chapter 29 - Iron

    Chapter 29


    Iron


    "Remmi, what kind of combatant are you?"


    I look over to the worried-looking elf. Ayre and I opted to continue our plans for the dungeon culling over a light lunch, but I couldn''t help noticing how she grew more and more distant toward the end of it. Now, it seems she''s finally voicing whatever''s bothering her.


    "Mid-range, focus on speed, I''d say," I reply. "Why?"


    "Well, as an archer, I''m, to use your style of summary, long-range and precision-focused," she explains. "Normally, two Bronze-rank adventurers should be fine for a Bronze-rank dungeon, since they''re relatively low-risk. The way I fight, though, I''m really vulnerable if anything is able to get to me."


    "And I don''t exactly look like a shield bearer," I finish.


    Ayre nods, looking apologetic, and I lean back in my chair with a sigh. Lunch is just some meat, cheese and bread, and I toss one of the last pieces of it in my mouth, chewing it over.


    "Do you know the levels of the monsters in there," I ask after I swallow.


    "As a Bronze," she provides, "it''s usually about ten to fifteen. Don''t let that number fool you, though. The monsters make up for it in numbers and other hazards."


    So ten to fifteen is considered low for a dungeon. Probably not a good time to mention that''s two to three times my actual level. Though considering I''ve been dealing with a level 11 rabbit for a month, I''m fairly confident.


    ... Of course, overconfidence is just as deadly as shooting myself in the face.


    "I''m pretty sure I can keep them off of you," I answer honestly, "but there''s no reason we have to jump right to it. I don''t mind knocking out an Iron mission with you first. We can see how we work in a less dangerous situation, and then if we decide we need buttressing up somewhere, we''ll know what we need to look for."


    Ayre thinks that over for a moment and nods. "That''s a pretty good idea, actually. If you really don''t mind splitting an Iron. It''s pretty far under our weight class for two Bronze."


    "That''s the whole point, isn''t it?" I point out with a grin. "Besides, believe me, I''m fine with anything so long as it''s not another Wood."


    She looks at me with surprise. "You''ve been doing Wood missions?!"


    My grin turns embarrassed again. "Eh, I told you I''m not from around here. I''ve got a friend serving as my handler who doesn''t want me taking anything higher without another Bronze around since I may not know what I''m walking into."


    Ayre''s face starts twisting in confusion again. "But you''re Bronze. Surely you''ve done enough lower quests to know your way around getting there in the first place?"


    I shake my head. "Sorry, jumped right to Bronze when they tested me. I''ve only been a guild member for about a week. Before that, I''ve only been in Furinshao for a month and a half."


    And now, her eyes are wide as saucers. "You were that strong before you even came here?! Without monsters or dungeons or magic?!"


    "Just because we didn''t have any monsters," I correct, "that doesn''t mean we didn''t have threats. We''ve got birds that attack at, like, over two hundred miles an hour, bears so big shooting them just ticks them off, and spiders with venom that causes your flesh to rot. And that''s just picking a few highlights."


    Ayre swallows nearly audibly. "Those certainly sound like monsters."


    "Regular critters, every one of them," I insist. "We''ve even got deer that could shatter the side of one of your carriages just because you looked at them funny."


    I know I''m laying it on a little thick - it''s all true, but that doesn''t make any of it particularly likely for most people to ever experience. Still, I feel like I''ve gotta speak up for Earth since nobody else is around to do so.


    And, besides, the only reason animal attacks aren''t something constantly looming over all of our heads is because we''ve so completely overcome them.


    The elf shakes and lowers her head in surrender. "Maybe it''s a good thing there isn''t a magic cycle in your homeland, Remmi. I can''t imagine what such beasts would be like enhanced into monsters."


    I push myself up, toss my payment onto the table and give Zeiya a wave so she knows I did so. "Well, it doesn''t really matter. An Iron rank mission sounds much more entertaining than chopping logs. I can''t believe even the pay for it is as bad as it is."


    That got a giggle out of the elf as she stood, too. "That''s because Wood rank missions are meant for training, Remmi. They''re repetitive and labor-heavy to help low-level adventurers build up their status. Already being Bronze, it''s little wonder you found them a waste of time."


    We continue chatting and getting to know each other as we pick out an Iron rank mission - clearing out a reported monster nest - and sign our names down for it before leaving the guild hall.


    It''s approaching noon and the village''s main street is bustling, but Ayre stops.


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    "Where are you staying, Remmi?"


    "Oh, I''ve got a place here in town," I answer, flinging my thumb toward the back end of the village.


    "In that case, we should probably pick up your equipment first," she points out. "I''m staying at the inn near the gates, so it''s easiest to grab mine on our way out."


    I nod along with the suggestion. "Sure. I don''t have a lot to grab, but I should probably tell Yorin that we''re heading out."


    "Is that the handler you mentioned?"


    "That''s her," I confirm. "She''s a priestess, overseeing construction of the town''s new temple. So not much of a walk."


    "... How did you end up with a priestess as a handler?" Ayre asks as we start heading up the cobblestone street, weaving our way out of the thicker traffic of the businesses.


    "She was assigned to me." I think that over for a moment. "Or I was assigned to her. I''m not really sure of the framing." But I shrug it off. "She''s nice, though, you''ll like her."


    It''s not long before we''re standing in a large clearing full of building supplies. There''s a large section of ground fenced off with red rope, and inside of it is the growing skeleton of the future temple.


    Ayre admires it with appropriately reverent oohs and ahhs, no doubt having a better idea of where things would be in the layout than I do. I''ll bet she can practically picture the pews.


    For my part, my hand is twitching. I can''t help but wonder if Auto-Mode would be able to complete the construction, and I''m itching to try.


    Fortunately, as if summoned by my impulsiveness, Yorin appears out of nowhere before I can give in and do anything stupid.


    "Remmi, why are you staring at my temple like you are about to try and eat it?"


    I startle at her arrival and give an embarrassed smile as I rub the back of my head. "Aha ... Hi, Yorin."


    "Hello, Remmi," she indulges. "If you need the extra time to come up with an answer to that, you could tell me why you''ve been drinking coffee first."


    That question really surprises me, as I thought I''d been keeping my behavior well under control. "How did you ...?"


    The white-haired woman gives a sigh. "Well, thank you for at least not lying to my face about it." She opens her eyes again to look directly at me with surprisingly effective disappointment in them. "I''m a priestess, Remmi. Diagnose is an entry-level spell for us. It tells us all of the ongoing effects on a target and a general idea of their current well-being."


    That gaze turns flat when she notices my eyes darting around for a moment, as if I''m looking at something in front of me she can''t see. "Remmi ..."


    Of course, I just bought it. Like the cleaning spell and Identify, it only costs a hundred points, but I can tell she knows I did it and doesn''t approve.


    I give another nervous laugh. "It sounds like a really useful spell! I can imagine a lot of uses for that sort of thing besides just healing!"


    I know I got her when she sighs again. It''s the surrendering sigh instead of the put-upon one. Maybe she communicates with sighs like Ayre communicates with her ears. It''s certainly more reliable than Yorin''s facial expressions.


    ... But on the tail end of that thought, I feel kind of guilty for making a friend sigh so much that I can tell the difference.


    "It is," she answers instead, moving into her teacher mode. "It can determine what augmenting magics may be on monsters or how close they are to defeat. It can also tell you if food is toxic or poisoned."


    "Um," Ayre opens, drawing attention to herself for the first time since Yorin''s arrival, and the older elf (who, ironically, doesn''t hardly look any older at all) turns toward her with an eyebrow raised in surprise. "Is Remmi a priestess in training?"


    Yorin''s other eyebrow joins the first, and she blinks a couple times as she processes that. "... No. No, she is not. What gave you that idea?"


    The archer fidgets a bit with the attention suddenly on her, her ears wilting as if trying to hide themselves in her hair. "Well, she''s overseen by a sacred priestess, and you''re telling her about a Priest spell as if you expect her to use it ..."


    Said priestess blinks one more time, and adjusts her stance to more fully take the other elf in. "You''re observant. Who are you, again?"


    Ayre bows to Yorin with utmost respect. "Ayre, Your Grace. I am a bronze-rank adventurer."


    "We''re going to do an iron quest to see how well we work together," I put in helpfully. "That''s what I came to let you know."


    "Hmm," Yorin hmms thoughtfully, "that''s actually a very good idea." And then she glances toward me.


    ... I immediately recognize the look and jut my bottom lip out in what I intend to be an objecting scowl. She just gives her motherly smile and then turns back to Ayre like she hadn''t been silently teasing me.


    "I wholly approve," Yorin concludes. "Remmi, your gear is inside. I''ll help you gather it."


    Well, if that isn''t code for, We''re about to have words in private, this isn''t my second time through adolescence ...


    "Sure," I agree anyway and smile to Ayre. "I''ll be right out!"


    Once inside, Yorin does, in fact, help me gather my things. It had been her idea that I leave them here, so that I didn''t have to go all the way back to the estate if I needed to leave quickly. Of course, that means there really isn''t much to gather. It''s already in a drawstring bag sitting in the corner.


    So by helping me gather my things, I mean she goes over and picks it up before coming back over to me. She stops a solid couple meters away from me.


    "Remmi, you don''t seem to understand why I want you to stay away from coffee."


    Yeah, I figured it was going to be that or undue suspicion about Ayre.


    "You think it''s bad for me," I offer. "Makes me too hyper. Maybe bad for my heart."


    She arches an eyebrow, but remains silent, her way of telling me to continue.


    So I cross my arms. "Coffee is actually very beneficial! It helps the body process sugar, fortifies the liver, reduces the chances of developing several types of cancer, and even protects against strokes!"


    "In moderation, perhaps." Yorin doesn''t bother challenging my foreign knowledge of things her world probably hasn''t ever dealt with. "The benefits we know of include increased stamina regeneration, heightened awareness, and minor boosts to Agility. However, overuse accrues negative status effects, including lowered Intellect and penalties to focus, and it is known to be addictive."


    "That''s all normal caffeine stuff," I wave her off. "I already know about it."


    "To be blunt, Remmi," she says directly, looking me in the eyes, "it''s not the beverage that concerns me. It is your lack of self-restraint."


    "Are you still hung up on the estate grounds, Yorin?!" I throw my hands up in the air in frustration. "Just because I get carried away when I work doesn''t mean I don''t know when to stop drinking coffee!"


    "You arrived here with the Caffeine Overdose II negative status, Remmi."


    That stuns me enough to pause. "... Really?"


    She nods. "It has faded to Stage One now, and your body does process such things quickly, but you clearly do not know when you have had too much."


    I frown at that, furrowing my brows in consideration. "I usually just figure I''ve had too much when I get the jitters."


    I''ve actually driven Yorin to grinding the palm of her hand against her face now as she exhales her frustration. "... Remmi, that''s Stage Three. Stage Four starts with palpitations and ends in heart failure."


    My reflexive swallow sounds loud in my ears. It''s hard to argue with that. Maybe I really have been drinking too much, but going without entirely is unthinkable.


    Finally, I hold up a single finger. "One cup, once a day. No more. Will you permit me that much?"


    That motherly smile returns, and she nods. "One cup. That would be acceptable restraint."

 Chapter 30 - Maracas

    Chapter 30


    Maracas


    "Sacred Yorin is ..."


    I glance over at the elf walking down the road beside me and grin. "Intense?"


    Ayre swallows and gives a silent nod. After a moment, she offers, "Maybe it was just nerves. A priestess is strange enough, but you didn''t tell me she was a sacred priestess."


    I rub the back of my head as I try to figure out any obvious difference between Yorin and any other priest I''d met. Unfortunately, I come up blank and smile apologetically back. "Sorry, I don''t think I know how to tell the difference ..."


    She gives an exasperated pout, complete with drooping ears. "You really aren''t from the empire ..."


    "Eheh ..." I turn my attention ahead again, more serious. "Sorry if Yorin seemed a bit much, that''s probably my fault. I know I''m ... a lot ... for her to deal with. I don''t mean to be, and she''s really a lot of fun when I''m not causing her trouble."


    Ayre looks back at me with a puzzled expression. "What do you do that causes her so much trouble?"


    I blink as my mind stalls on how to summarize the last month within a digestible sentence. "Uh, see, that''s the problem. Like I said, I don''t mean to be causing issues, so I don''t realize I''m doing it until after I''m already in trouble for it."


    A criticizing frown fills the archer''s face at that. "Are you saying jumping dividers and tackling people aren''t wrong where you''re from, or is what you''ve done worse than that?"


    I swear the back of my neck feels chill with sweat at that. "Eh, well, worse is such a relative term ... I told you I have a place in the village, I just ... did some work on it."


    Ayre''s face remains suspicious. "That doesn''t sound bad."


    "No, it really doesn''t, does it?" I ask with a nervous chuckle. "Like I said, it can be hard to tell."


    She watches me an awkward moment longer before looking forward again and changing the subject. "You travel very light, Remmi. Are you sure you have everything you need?"


    I shift my backpack I got from Jentas with my shoulder at that. Inside is a good amount of rope, some food, and a sheathed hatchet. Besides that, my gun and my ammo, all I''m carrying is a simple dagger on my hip and a canteen clipped to the bag.


    "Yeah, it''s enough," I conclude. "I''ve gone out with less, the weather''s nice, and it''s not like we''re heading out for a week. I''ve got everything I really need."


    Really, I could have gotten away with bringing even less if I wanted to rely on the points store. Yorin and I both agreed, though, that it was a waste to do so when these things weren''t even that heavy. Or expensive, for that matter.


    Ayre is shouldering a somewhat larger bag. It''s not horrible, but it looks bigger than it needs to be next to her slender frame. Not that she seems to be struggling with it. It''s got a brace against her lower back to take weight off of her shoulders, a mount for her bow, and stops short of reaching her quiver at her hips.


    "But what are you going to do for shelter," she asks. "What if it rains? Did you remember food? A change of clothes? Firewood? Fire starter?"


    ... Well, now I know why her bag''s bigger.


    "I don''t think we''ll see any rain for the next few days," I answer, looking up at the cloudless blue sky. "And if we end up being out so long we need to make camp tonight, I can build a campfire and any necessary shelter with what I''ve got."


    The elf''s eyes widen with awe. "You''re trained in wilderness survival?!"


    ... Is that supposed to be impressive? I kind of figured bushcraft would be a really common skill in a world like this. "Um, I''m not sure I''d call this survival, but sure?"


    I was decent enough at it before even showing up in this world, what from spending so much time in the woods growing up. I wasn''t some deep woods survivalist or anything, able to survive in every environment with a pocket knife and a length of paracord.


    I knew how to clean my water, though, how to start a fire, how to keep it safe, how to put up a tent, how to build simple structures. I trusted my ability to navigate, too, and I''d done my share of hunting and fishing.


    Mostly, though, anything I wanted to do in the wilderness was still limited to the tools I brought with me. One of the general skills I had to pick up on the estate, however, was, in fact, Wilderness Survival. Now, with that and the other crafting skills I picked up, even the knife and cord may be optional.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Well, provided I''m around a forest, anyway.


    I focus my attention back on Ayre. "I''d have guessed it a pretty common skillset for adventurers. Isn''t it?"


    She gets a look on her face that tells me I put her on the spot, but she makes a motion with her hand. "Ehhh, to some degree? Some more than others. I suppose you can count on most of us to start a fire or pitch a tent, but we''re using strikers or magic for the fire, and somebody has to bring the tent. And we know what berries not to eat, even if it''s just from experience."


    Ayre shifts her shoulder to indicate the bow strapped there. "I''m good at hunting so long as I don''t have to do the tracking, and monster furs are usually pretty good money, so I learned to skin them. But honestly? I''ve never really seen eye to eye with the outdoors. It''s all itchy and bitey and windy and, and ... temperaturemental."


    For her sake, with how embarrassed she looks, I hold back my giggle at her wordcraft. Still, an urban elf, whodathunkit. "Sounds like you prefer your bed soft, your walls insulated, and your ingredients from a store."


    She actually lets out a full-body sigh, half slumping over with the release of tension. "Oh, Essence, yes ..." Then she snaps back up like she''d been caught using foul language, covering her mouth as she turns back to me. "Ah, is that bad?"


    This time, I actually do chuckle a little, but I wave my hand back and forth to dispel the idea. "Not in my book, not at all. It''s a really common preference back home. I''m considered the weird one for actually enjoying roughing it."


    I scratch my chin in thought. "The weird part, if there''s any, might be why you''d choose to be an adventurer, then. But I guess there isn''t actually a whole bunch of travel, necessarily. A lot of work can be done right out of cities if you aren''t taking on anything too complex."


    Ayre nods energetically in confirmation. "That''s right! And longer trips almost always reach a waystation by nightfall, that''s the whole reason they''re spaced that way. So you can still spend most nights in a lodge or an inn."


    "Yeah, I noticed that on the trip to Dabun," I agree. "I expected more camping, but it was basically never necessary. We never left the road, though, either."


    The elf''s nod is slower at that one. "Yeah, all of those nice things go away when you go off the road ..." She brightens up a bit, though. "But that still means camping out a lot less often than you''d have to otherwise!"


    That whole off-road bit is why we''re not taking the wagon, despite how badly I wanted to test the new upgrades. It doesn''t really work off of cleared, level paths, and the nest is estimated at only a few hours outside of town on foot. With trees and other obstacles, even just taking horses wouldn''t save us enough time to be worth the expense, either.


    It''s probably for the best. I''ve been thinking of forging springs for the seats, too. Might as well wait until the whole package is done.


    We''re not on the road much longer before we''re leaving it behind, but that doesn''t mean we''re tramping through underbrush. There''s plenty of dirt tracks, and then we have game trails showing us the paths of least resistance.


    For the most part, the worst we have to worry about are tree limbs that are high enough not to have bothered our four-legged predecessors. We''re even able to take a break alongside a creek where we refill our water and grab a bite to eat.


    We aren''t on our way long after that, though, before I''m slowing down again, my neck craned back as I''m looking at the surrounding foliage.


    "... Hey, Ayre ..."


    "Hmm?"


    I reach out and rub one of the leaves within reach between my fingers. It''s stiffer than it seems like it should be, and the green isn''t as vibrant as the Spring growth should be. Maybe it''s just me, but it seems darker, like what I''d expect to see in early Fall.


    "Do the plants here look kind of sickly to you?"


    She trails my hand up to the leaves I''m holding and steps over to squint at them. "... Are they not supposed to be green?"


    ... Right. I''m just going to assume that''s rhetorical.


    I''m just about to try using Diagnose on the tree when an angry rattling my mind instantly associates with maracas comes charging toward us from the bushes ahead.


    I throw one arm out to drive Ayre back as I draw my gun with the other. I barely register sharp teeth before I reflexively squeeze my trigger finger.


    It''ll only be later that I realize I don''t hear birds and critters fleeing the sound of the explosion.


    The maracas fly back into the bushes from the force of the impact and Ayre and I are left alone in the expanding silence as we both try to process what just happened.


    Both of our hearts have slowed down by the time she finds words.


    "What the [otso] was that?!"


    I blink, trying to reason out the strange sound that left her mouth between the words I recognized. No matter how my mind twists it, it can''t make it into a coherent word. Is that what an untranslatable word sounds like to others?


    "... Otso?" I repeat back, aware that it doesn''t come out quite right.


    Ayre immediately clamps both hands over her mouth, loosening them only to let her words out. "Oh gosh, did I say that?!"


    Okay, so it was exactly what the context clues made it sound like. Good to know I just added a new swear word to my lexicon.


    "Don''t worry, Ayre," I tell her with a roll of my eyes. "I don''t know what it means." Instead, I motion toward the bushes. "But to answer your question, it was something with teeth."


    "Not that!" She wheels on me like an accusation. "What did you do that made such an awful noise?!"


    "... Oh." Yeah, I probably should have figured that was the bigger shock. "I shot it."


    I bring the gun up for her examination. "It''s a weapon from my homeland. I told you we don''t have magic there. What you heard was a chemical explosion that launched a shaped chunk of metal at supersonic speed."


    "... Supersonic?" Her nose is wrinkled up as she tries to puzzle out the weapon.


    "... Faster than sound?" I try, and then she shifts her gaze to me like I''m talking nonsense again.


    "Remmi, sound doesn''t have a speed."


    ... Ah, right. I keep forgetting the difference in education. If this place is really medieval, calculating the speed of sound is still at least two or three centuries ahead of them. All progress being equivalent, anyway.


    My brain re-engages a moment later, though. "Wait, how do you guys explain thunder traveling?"


    "That''s the movement of the air carrying it, obviously. Why, what were you tau--"


    I hold a hand up for quiet as I turn back toward the bushes. I could swear I heard a sound like maracas rolling over.

 Chapter 31 - Nest

    Chapter 31


    Nest


    I press the bush aside with the toe of my boot, ready to yank the limb back at the slightest provocation, and lean my head sideways to see around the barrel of my pistol.


    "Uh, hey, Ayre, what kind of monsters are supposed to be in this nest?"


    "Giant rats," the elf provides from behind me. "Maybe some goblins, they like to hunt the things, so they tend to show up not long after the rats do."


    The rattling is even quieter now, even though I''m right over it. Must be a literal death rattle, but I can immediately understand why my shot didn''t kill it outright.


    "So you''re saying it''s not a nest of undead beasties?"


    "What?! No!" She hurries up now, throwing the caution of a rear line to the wind to see for herself. "Undead are a completely different category. They can''t show up naturally."


    I reach down and pull the brush away with my hand to make a clear view of the skeleton that had jumped us. "Well, that''s definitely a giant rat, but my bullet didn''t skin and gut it, and it''s still twitching."


    I raise my hand up next to one eye in an increasingly familiar gesture. "Identify."


    <hr>


    NAME: Skeletal Rat


    RACE: Beast (Undead)


    AGE: 0


    LEVEL: 5


    CLASS: Skeleton


    STATUS: Hostile


    <hr>


    "Undead beast, level 5," I report to her. I expected its status to be Aggressive, like the angry slime, but maybe they mean slightly different things.


    Ayre''s wide eyes are trained on me, though. "You have a soul orb?!"


    "Focus, Ayre." I snap my fingers in her line of sight to try to get her to do just that. "Skeletal rat. Why."


    With a clear force of will, she turns her head back to the monster and shoves her brain back into motion. I can practically hear the grinding before the gears start to properly move.


    "Uh, well, let''s see," she says, squeezing her chin. "Undead can only be formed by spells or in a place with a lot of residual magic and negative emotion."


    "A lot of magic," I repeat. "Like a dungeon?"


    "More like a battlefield," she clarifies. "Priests have to come through and dispel the energies while survivors recover the bodies, or the magic from all of the spells going off seeps back into the corpses and mixes with all of the aggression and loss to reanimate them into monsters."


    "Sounds horrible." I can imagine it in my head easily. It would truly be a nightmare, especially to the battle''s beleaguered survivors. "But I''m under the impression Serazin Province hasn''t seen a lot of wide-scale military engagements. So are we thinking necromancer?"


    The elf stares down at the still twitching creature, but surprises me when she shakes her head.


    "That can''t be it, either," she explains. "You said it''s level 5?"


    I nod in confirmation.


    "Giant rats are usually only level two or three. Their threat comes from their tendency to swarm and their ability to chew through most solid obstacles. Reanimating a monster through magic, though, has a hard limit on it."


    "Let me guess," I venture. "You''re limited by the level of the monster."


    "Exactly," she nods. "You have to be a higher level than it, too, and you can only control so many at a time, but even a level 50 mage couldn''t reanimate a giant rat at higher than the level it had when it was alive."


    "So it''s not a battlefield, and it''s not a budding taxidermist." I look back to the trees I''m now certain are in the process of dying. "And it''s affecting the environment. We''ve got to get to that nest, something''s gone fucky."


    Ayre grabs my arm. "Remmi, I don''t think this is an Iron-rank anymore. It ... it may not even be Bronze. We should go back. Report it to the guild. Report it to the temp--"


    I''m not the one that interrupts her this time, but I''m pretty sure I know what did. After all, there''s a little blue window in my field of vision.


    <hr>


    NEW QUEST OBJECTIVE:


    Investigate the monster nest


    outside of Dabun Village and


    stop the source of the undead.


    Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    COMPLETION REWARD:


    - Bonus System Points


    - New Hero Power


    - Heavenly Item


    - Affinity Up (Ayre, Elven Archer)


    - Affinity Up (Yorin, White Witch)


    - Affinity Up (Kyuuga, Beast Warrior)


    - Affinity Up (IESG)


    - Affinity Up (Dabun Village)


    - Affinity Up (Xuhitana, Witchblade)


    <hr>


    ... Why is the empress on there? Is it because Dabun''s her hometown? Or does the System know more than it''s telling me? Those rewards seem very generous for something happenstance.


    A problem for later.


    I glance back to Ayre. "You just got a system notification, too?"


    She nods, still staring with a gobsmacked expression on her face into the empty air in front of her. "... Assist the Gunslinger Hero in investigating the monster nest outside of Dabun Village."


    I sigh before I can stop myself. "Blabbermouth ... Ah well, not like that cat was staying in the bag much longer, anyway." It''s not like it kept quiet about Yorin, either, I guess.


    "Guess we''ve been out-voted," I conclude, then drop the barrel of my gun toward the rat again.


    Ayre lets out a pained yelp and covers her ears as three more shots ring out and the notification of the monster''s death flashes in front of me.


    Along with two hundred points.


    "Agh!" the elf cries out when the roar dies down. "Can''t you give me some warning?!"


    "Sorry," I reply as I begin changing out the magazine for a red one. "Get used to it now, it''s only going to get louder."


    "Louder?!"


    I start forward in the direction the rat charged us from. "You said rats like to swarm."


    I hear her swallow, but she follows in my wake soon after, taking a moment only to string her bow before doing so.


    We''re moving more quietly now that we know we must be close to the nest, slow and with our ears wide. Bringing a little amusement, I get a visit from the window saying I''m trying to do something I''m not proficient in, but I stifle my giggle and spend the points on a Stealth general skill.


    I''m not sure I really become any quieter, but knowing how to move and place my steps has me spending a lot less energy tensing up over it.


    The foliage we''re counting on to conceal us keeps getting deader and thinner, what I''m counting as the surest sign we''re moving in the right direction. Fortunately, it turns out Undead don''t really do patrols or keep lookouts, because when we do find the nest ...


    "... That''s a lot of bone broth," I whisper so quietly that if it weren''t an elf next to me, I doubt she''d have heard me.


    Instead, her ears shoot up and she looks at me like I''d sprouted a third eyeball. "You can''t possibly--"


    I cover her mouth with one hand and hold the pointer finger of the other up in front of my gritted teeth. "It''s a figure of speech," I hiss back. "What kind of glutton do you people think I am?!"


    The clearing ahead of us has been pounded flat by the sheer mass of traffic generated by its denizens. Rats make up the largest portion of it, so many that they''re crawling over the tops of each other. Every one of them the size of dogs, and all of them nothing but bones and connective tissue.


    Even if we couldn''t see the nest, we''d have heard it, so many bony feet rattling around. I can''t help but question how so many rats sustained their numbers before becoming undead. Maybe that''s why everything''s skeletons. They ate themselves.


    The very thought sends a shiver up my spine, and I banish it to take in the rest of the scene before me.


    Rats are by far the most numerous creature roaming the clearing, but there''s a lot of small humanoid ones, too, that I''m guessing are the goblins Ayre mentioned. There''s even a horned critter that sticks out like a sore thumb. Seems they added a stray rabbit to their menagerie.


    "So what do we know about Undead that''s useful here?" I ask.


    Ayre can''t pull her eyes away from the sight, but she answers anyway. "Undead don''t do anything productive without orders. Without a mage and without encountering anything else, they''ll just bumble around or play dead. That''s why they''re mostly in crypts and other places where they died, they''re too stupid to find their way out, and too mindless to care."


    She''s clearly answering more on autopilot than with real thoughts. Maybe asking had been a bad idea.


    "When they see living creatures, though, something triggers. They go into a frenzy, trying to kill anything they encounter. They don''t rest and have no sense of self-preservation, so they''ll just chase--"


    Yeah, okay, nothing new. I draw my gun and flip the safety off. "Okay, I''m gonna start blasting."


    "What?!" She quickly latches to my arm. "You can''t! Your weapon isn''t effective enough! You''ll just draw their attention to you!"


    "Don''t worry," I grin boldly back. "I changed rounds!" I point to a dead tree back behind her. "You should head over there, pick off any stragglers. I''ll go the other way so I don''t drag them into you."


    "But ..." She fumbles with the idea. "What do you mean, you changed rounds? Do you have special bolts for this?"


    "You could say that." My grin widens further. "I did tell you it was going to get louder."


    Again, like before, she swallows at the threat and turns toward the tree. "... Over there, you said?"


    Once she''s in position, I crouch down facing the opposite direction, the direction I intend to run. As a last-minute precaution, I decide to buy a rank of damage boost for my gun, then I start counting down from five in my head.


    As soon as I hit zero, I pop up and give as shrill and loud a whistle as I can manage. In defiance of all biology, every last skeleton turns toward me.


    I point my pistol at the front edge of the majority of their mass and pull the trigger. The next instant, an explosion of force and heat erupts, sending bone fragments flying through the air, and I start running.


    The forest rumbles like an earthquake as, heedless of the attack, all of the monsters charge after me. I lead them in a big, looping circle through the dead zone to keep them from stretching into a line or leaving any more stragglers than necessary, firing into them the whole time.


    Accuracy barely matters, there''s so many of them. When I reload, I just let the empty magazine freefall onto the dirt, cramming the next one in as quickly as I can. I specifically leave Ayre''s tree on the outside of my loop, hoping she stays out of line of sight.


    I do notice a number of arrows and unmoving skeletons as I run through. Not many, but I can tell she''s putting in the work.


    By the time I come to a stop, I''m at the bottom of my fourth magazine, and I empty the last couple bullets in it into an errant pile. The clearing looks like it''s been shelled, all of the dead brush is blasted away or on fire, and there''s a veritable carpet of scattered bone fragments.


    I take a deep inhalation of the acrid aroma of gun smoke and find myself satisfied with my work. I keep my head on a swivel as I reload and move back roughly toward where I started, but everything''s pretty quiet.


    I''m really going to need to buy more explosive rounds after this, but a passing glance at my point total tells me that absolutely won''t be any kind of issue.


    "Hey, Ayre! I think we''re done!"

 Chapter 32 - Abomination

    Chapter 32


    Abomination


    "You are NOT a Bronze!"


    I turn toward the unexpected statement as Ayre steps from the tree line. "Sure, I am," I reply, tapping my badge. "See? Bronze."


    "What are you really," she demands. "Level Twenty? Thirty?!"


    "Five."


    The poor elf''s feet stop so suddenly the rest of her nearly topples onto her face. It barely stops her tirade. "Thirty-five?!"


    "No," I correct her, still keeping my expression straight. "Just five."


    "[Otsomui]!" My blink at the sudden return of the alien word goes unnoticed by her. "Five is Wood-rank!"


    "You said the word again."


    Her face goes red, but she refuses to be dissuaded. "You''re not Level Five! You can''t be Level Five! You''re too fast for a Level Five! You''re too powerful for a Level Five! You''re too much for a Bronze!"


    I can only shrug. "I didn''t pick my rank, Ayre. I wouldn''t know what to pick if I did." I tap the gun that''s back in my holster. I''m going to need to give it a good cleaning when we get back to Dabun. "If it''s any consolation, my power pretty much all comes from my weapon."


    Ayre seems to consider that for a moment, but then violently shakes her head. "Your weapon did not outrun an entire infestation until it all died! Remmi, you spent most of that looking backwards, but you never even so much as stumbled!"


    I blink at that, then open my mouth, but, this time, she''s the one to cut me off.


    "No, Remmi, that''s NOT normal!"


    I close my mouth again with a frown. All I can do is shrug again. "What do you want me to say, Ayre? I don''t know enough to lie about this. You want to see my status, I''ll show it to you. Then you can tell me what I''m supposed to say."


    Before she can agree or tell me to fly a kite, the forest under our feet starts rumbling again.


    ... No, not the forest. Like before, it''s the bones! It''s slow at first, like they have to build up the momentum, but they all start moving toward the center of the clearing, and I''m filled with a deep sense of wrongness that the undead, themselves, never gave me.


    "Ayre, get back!" For the second time today, I draw with one hand and urge her back with the other.


    "Undead aren''t supposed to do this," she insists as she follows my instruction and raises her bow again.


    "I have a feeling this is the taxidermist."


    As the pile in the middle grows, the pieces move faster and faster toward it, like a growing point of gravity, and something begins to take shape. Bones and fragments of bones fuse together in unnatural, nonsensical configurations. Goblin femurs attach to rat jaws. Pseudo-ligaments form out of rat tail joints like they''re pretending to be hydraulic cables.


    It''s like some sick child was just told they were body parts and started cramming them together like legos to make a body without any idea of how that was supposed to happen.


    "What''s it making?" Ayre''s voice is trembling; she clearly doesn''t actually want to know.


    "Back to the tree line," I order. I''m already backtracking, myself. I won''t go that far, but I want out of this circle of bones before they trip me up, or worse.


    I pull my thumb and forefinger up again even as I do so.


    <hr>


    NAME: Undead Abomination


    RACE: Construct (Undead)


    AGE: 0


    LEVEL: 30


    CLASS: Corrupted


    STATUS: Malicious


    <hr>


    "Otso."


    My usage seems to cause Ayre nigh-physical pain. "Please don''t try to use that word!"


    "It''s an Abomination."


    The elf looks between me and the monster as what is apparently its torso assembles before our eyes. "Well, yes, but what is it? What does your soul orb say?!"


    Now is not the time to correct that misunderstanding, I decide. "That''s exactly what it says. A Level 30 Undead Abomination."


    "... [Otsomui]," she mutters, nearly under her breath.


    Great, so I wasn''t just pronouncing it like a tourist, I was using it wrong, too.


    With a lunge, Ayre latches to my arm like a barnacle. "We have to get out of here! This is a fight for Silvers! Golds, maybe! Let us go get Sacred Yorin! Before it finishes and gives chase!"


    "That depends," I reply. "What''s the difference between Aggressive, Hostile and Malicious?"


    The seemingly random question confuses her just long enough to slacken her grip. "... Uh ... Intensity?"


    The word triggers a different explanation to occur to me, and the possibility drops into my stomach like ice. "Intent."


    Aggressive is just looking for a fight. Hostile is an enemy to anything around it, even other monsters. But Malicious? It''s literally coming packed with an intention, not just to do harm, but actual, honest to whatever gods this place has, evil.


    Am I reading too deep? I hope so, but that feeling just the presence of this thing gives me argues otherwise.


    I''ve clearly lost Ayre, but that thing''s almost finished assembling itself. I''d have been firing at it already, but I have a hunch it''s like the slimes, and I''d just be wasting my bullets.


    "There aren''t any Silvers or Golds here, Ayre. Just us." I regrip my pistol to make sure I''m not strangling it. "We triggered the boss, we''ve gotta put it down."


    The thing finishes forming its head, a skull-like cast with hollow eye sockets filled with a sickeningly purple flame, and just like that, we''re out of time. It looks right at us and roars, a motion that has its lower jaw remaining locked in place while the entirety of its upper head hinges backward.


    "Same as before," I say quickly. "Stay back, take shots where you can. I''ll keep it focused on me!"


    I don''t give her time to respond before I bolt, running diagonally away from her position. Thankfully, the big lug turns to track me.


    Thinking this might be my last opportunity for any helpful information, I try my one other spell that''s any good for that for the first time.


    "Diagnose!"


    <hr>


    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    TARGET: Undead Abomination


    HEALTH: Uninjured


    ENERGY: High


    VITALITY: High


    CONDITIONS:


    - Undead


    - Corrupted


    <hr>


    <hr>


    CONGRATULATIONS!


    You have met the following conditions


    for upgrading a spell:


    You have used two or more compatible


    spells on the same target.


    Would you like to fuse [IDENTIFY LV1]


    and [DIAGNOSE LV1] to form a new


    spell at a higher level?


    COST: 1,000 Points


    Please note that fusing magic will not


    replace the component spells. You may


    still cast them at their original cost


    should you choose to do so, even if the


    casting method is the same.


    <hr>


    ... Huh, wasn''t expecting that. Bad time for a bonus, but I''m not turning it down.


    I quickly agree while firing several fireball rounds into the abomination, and the System cheerfully informs me that I have unlocked [IDENTIFY LV2]. Guess that confirms this side of things didn''t get the same creative touch as the shop.


    The abomination roars loudly at my affront, but when the smoke clears, I''m greeted with an unwanted revelation. The rounds accomplished little more than scorch marks. I know bones don''t burn, but its body is more than just a skeleton. Gaps are filled in, and it''s sturdy enough to absorb the shockwave of the blast.


    Heck, if it''s anything like Earth bones, it might as well be clad in steel armor.


    It swats at me, but I jump away from its talons that are bigger than my head, and the whole forest seems to shake with the force of the impact when it strikes the ground instead.


    I have to switch rounds, but I don''t hold any expectation of Paralysis working on the thing. Instead, I swap the rest of the magazine for my overpressure rounds. Their high powder and jacketed points will penetrate much deeper, even through that bone carapace.


    Downside, it doesn''t exactly have innards for me to damage, so I won''t be doing much more than just punching holes. Maybe, though, I can swiss cheese enough to get an explosive round inside the chest cavity.


    Mental note, check the store for holy rounds or something when a monstrosity isn''t trying to kill me. Just a couple magazines in reserve could make sure this whole mess never happens again.


    I''m just about to pop the last explosive round out of the chamber when the abomination opens its mouth wide again. This time, it''s not to roar. I don''t need to be told what it means to see purple light gathering between those saw teeth.


    Instead of ejecting the bullet, I feed that thing the spicy meatball.


    The blast sends the entire volatile mix spinning out of control and the whole thing explodes inside of its skull. The creature''s four arms go slack, and one hinge of its jaw is completely blown off as it slumps to whatever constitutes its knees.


    I''m not about to be tricked into thinking it''s dead, though.


    "NOW!" I shout out to Ayre even as I''m raising my own weapon. "POUR ON THE DAMAGE! AS MUCH AS YOU CAN WHILE IT''S STUNNED!"


    The archer''s response is slower than my own. I''m already halfway to the abomination and halfway through my new magazine when the first arrow comes flying in. It''s promptly followed by half a dozen more, each spinning within a vortex of green and blue energy that seems to be greatly augmenting their penetration and damage.


    I can''t lie, I''m impressed. She''s not sporting a rifle by any means, but a bronze-rank archer is no slouch.


    ... I kinda really want whatever magic that is ...


    By the time the abomination starts pulling itself back together, I''m half on top of it, a fresh magazine of explosive rounds loaded in that I''m prepared to shove down its throat.


    "Eat thermite, bonehead."


    There''s a blur of movement, and before I can process what happened, I''m gasping for lost air as the forest floor flies away from me. A long heartbeat later, my back collides with a tree with a loud crack, and I''m not sure which of the two the noise came from.


    As pain floods my system, I focus on the numbers in front of me to keep from losing it.


    105 points of damage.


    I''d underestimated how much it had recovered its senses, and it backhanded me like a red-headed stepchild. That much damage would''ve left me nothing more than a red stain on the ground back at the capitol.


    Even now, it nearly cut my health in half, and the way people keep reacting, I get the impression I''ve got a lot of it for my level.


    Damn it, forget holy rounds, I need to see if I can buy a healing spell. Getting my butt kicked really sucks.


    Why did I think it was a good idea to pick a fight with a boss six times my level, again?


    It''s taking another shot at charging what''s probably some kind of necro-laser. No question it''s aiming for me, and I have a hunch it''s going to do a lot more than a backhand.


    Damn it all, I have to move! I do, but it feels so slow. In some part of my mind, I''m glad that at least that tree didn''t cripple me.


    My own diagnosis pops up in front of me with little more than half a thought.


    ... Heh, I''m Stunned. Of course I fucking am. What goes around comes around.


    "REMMI!"


    No, no, no. Ayre''s running over here. Don''t come over here! Stay away!


    She wheels about into a shooting stance, already with an arrow partially drawn. She grits her teeth as that seafoam vortex surrounds the arrowhead.


    Oh, good girl. She wasn''t running to me. She was getting a shot.


    The laser''s nearly charged, but her arrow goes off first. The clash isn''t as dramatic as the explosive round, but the colliding energies still wreck havok.


    I can almost feel how pissed off it is at getting shot out again, but I''m betting I''m imagining that. Pretty sure it doesn''t actually have a brain.


    I''m not missing this chance a second time. As soon as the reaction starts going out of control, I''m forcing my feet underneath me.


    They stumble at first, twisting into each other, but I keep going and find my stride. By the time the abomination goes slack again, I''m halfway to it. Ayre''s shouting at me from back behind me, but I''m not listening.


    I''ve only got room for one thought in my head.


    It swings at me once, a slow, clumsy swat compared to the one that got me before, but enough to tell me it''s not going to be out for long.


    I don''t dodge. I jump on top of the limb and kick off again, sending myself hurtling over its head. I keep my gun pointed down, trained on the purple glow. As if all of my other motion doesn''t matter, I line it up in my sights and pull that trigger faster than I ever have in my life.


    One, two, three, four, five, six. The seventh hits it in the forehead, but the explosions rock its body and something inside of it flares.


    I''m heading toward a tree, and I don''t even question if I can spring off of it. I continue to twist so that I hit it feet first and jump again.


    The angle''s lower, but I grab hold of one of its horns as it zips past, and I spin halfway around before I can plant my boot where the seventh fireball went off.


    I don''t quip this time. I keep firing until a great explosion of purple fire bucks me off.

 Chapter 33 - Purification

    Chapter 33


    Purification


    "--mmi? Remmi!"


    I pry my eyes open to see two Ayres sliding to their knees next to me. At least that means I wasn''t out for more than a moment or two.


    "Remmi, are you alright?"


    The fashionable elf twins'' voices echo into my ears, and I squint to filter them through my everything-ache.


    Reflexively, I check to see if I''m alright or not. I''m down to just twenty-some hit points. I''ve gotta stop running this so close.


    "Depends," I''m pretty sure I slur. "Did we get ''im?"


    Both of them look back, but they''re starting to merge back into one. The echo''s clearing up, too. "I don''t know. The smoke hasn''t settled yet."


    With some effort, I find my knees and get one under me, then prop the other up on its foot and push my way up. "Let''s go find out, then."


    Poor Ayre doesn''t know what to do with her hands. "Are you sure you should? That looked pretty bad."


    "I''m down to less than ten percent of my hit points," I tell the archer flatly. I start putting one foot in front of the other until I''m managing a facsimile of a walk toward the center of the clearing. "But I''ll let you in on a Hero secret, Ayre. If that thing''s not dead, my relative distance isn''t going to make them come back any faster."


    That seems to drive her to silence as we pass through the thinning cloud of dust and smoke. It stinks like a crematorium, which I decide to take as a good sign. I expected to be finding my footing on bone fragments, but whatever sent me flying did the same to them. Everything down to the dead, dry dirt has been blown clear.


    When we break through the last of the smoke, my breath catches in my chest, and a moment later, I hear Ayre gasp as she stops behind me.


    Floating in the air before us is the only remnant of the abomination, a violet flame nearly the size of my head. It just hangs there with a bit of a bob to it, like some sort of evil will-o-wisp.


    This must be the true heart of the abomination, the animating force of all of the undead. This twisted feeling it gives me, is this what Corruption looks like?


    Ayre''s feet start moving again, slowly, sluggishly, and I look back to see her approaching the thing with what I first think must be trepidation, but as she slowly begins to raise a hand, the sickly light reflecting in her eyes, I feel my stomach freeze.


    "It''s ... so beautif- uungh!"


    As she tries to pass me, I grab her around the waist and hurl her back with all of the strength I can muster in the moment. She''s surprisingly light, and lands on her back ten feet away.


    As a precaution, I load a yellow bullet directly into the chamber.


    "Oww, what was that for?!"


    "Sorry, Ayre, it was for your own good," I answer back. The gun''s lowered, but I reflexively check with my thumb that the safety''s off. "Whatever that thing is, you can''t touch it."


    Diagnosis confirms, she''s got a status effect called Enamored. Probably more than addled, less than charmed, and definitely the flame''s fault.


    She looks up at me in uncomprehending confusion at my words. My refusal to let her near just makes no sense to her. I can see the exact moment her enchanted mind latches onto the only explanation it can be allowed to conceive. Her face twists into such an expression of rage and betrayal that I''ll never be able to forget it, and I know it''s over.


    "You just want to take it for yourself! We worked together! I supported you! You--"


    And her rant falls silent as I shoot my new friend through the chest.


    With a heavy sigh, I turn my back to her and face the flame once more.


    "Now, what do I do with you? I have a feeling a bucket of water isn''t going to cut it."


    I can see what Ayre was talking about, though. I compared it to will-o-wisps, St. Elmo''s Fire. There''s a reason they led so many people to their deaths. The crackling dance of the flames is uniquely enticing as they spin and pirouette.


    I frown, creasing my brow as I raise my pistol and fire a round right through the middle of the flame. The air pressure splits it for a moment, but otherwise leaves it unscathed. The entrancement, however, immediately lifts from me.


    It does tell me that it''s immune to physical damage, though. Despite my words, I can''t actually try a bucket of water, either. I''d have to leave it here alone with Ayre, and I don''t dare leave it unsupervised.


    Oh, wait, that''s not actually a problem.


    I quickly open up the store and buy a simple bottle of water. I half expect it to arrive in a cheap plastic bottle, but when I open the wooden box that appears, it''s instead in a waxed paper bag, like some sort of disposable canteen. Eh, I suppose that''s just as uselessly cheap an equivalent. And, hey, biodegradable, too.


    Unfortunately, it promptly proves as futile as I first guessed. I upend the bag and the water splashes right through.


    I''m at a loss of what to do. My previous idea of checking the store for holy rounds was fine for a skeletal monstrosity, but the element doesn''t matter if they just go right through this new form. Yorin might know something, but to go get her, I''m back to leaving this thing alone again.


    Maybe I could put it in a bottle, avoid direct contact that way.


    Yes, I could keep it close to me, keep it safe, make sure nobody is tempted by it. Keep it from--


    Two more shots ring through the air, again only briefly disrupting the flame with their passage.


    I glare right at it, careful to resist the urge to get face to flicker with it.


    "Annoying little fucker."


    Ayre didn''t seem to feel the same sense of wrongness it gives me, now that I think about it. She also didn''t seem to resist it at all, falling to its charm the moment she laid eyes on it.


    I''ve now resisted it twice. Why? What''s different about me? Well, besides the obvious that I''m from an entirely different planet where magic is a thing of fantasy.


    That ... actually could be it. Ayre said raw magic changed and empowered lifeforms. This thing could be raw magic infused with a will of some sort, which would explain all of its abilities. From my simplistic yokel understanding of it all, anyway.


    Maybe, not having grown up exposed to ... arcane radiation, I guess, I''m more sensitive to it? More resilient? The radiation hasn''t built up in my cells like it has everyone else. Or something equivalent.


    Damn, now I wish I had a geiger counter. It wouldn''t be useful for much more than testing the theory, assuming it''s even ionizing in the first place, but now my curiosity''s piqued. At least it''d tell me if a lead box could be a good idea.


    No, now''s not the time to go all science nerd on it. It can''t stay here, and anything that doesn''t help me come up with a solution to that is an intellectual dead end right now.


    Actually, there''s another possible explanation for my resilience. I''m a Hero. There could be an innate resistance granted with that. There was a strong implication back at the Grand Temple that my body, as a Hero, was basically reconstructed entirely from Essence. Given that the whole System runs off of it, my ability to spend points could imply I''m still connected to wherever Essence comes from.


    Since it''s an energy distinct from magic, and if I''m right that this stuff is raw magic of some form, it might be that it just isn''t as compatible with me as it is with a native like Ayre.


    Its ability to augment beings is, according to Ayre, downright rules-breaking, if the skeletal rats are any indication. If the abomination was the extent of this much flame''s power, that also meant that this little bit was on par with a start-out Hero.


    If it had gotten its claws into Ayre and turned her into some sort of "Dark Ranger" type boss, I don''t think I could have beaten her.


    ... Of course, with a stronger will than the flame''s got, that kind of power boost could do a lot of good. If I really did have some sort of resistance that let me keep its control at bay, I could bend it to my will as another tool in my arsenal. I wouldn''t be the weakest of the Heroes, reliant on a piece of technology to keep up. I could march on their foes and crush them single-handedly. Even Xuhi''s crazy stats wouldn''t stand up to me.


    "DAMN IT, YOU ONE RING PIECE OF SHIT, STAY OUT OF MY FUCKING HEAD, ALREADY!!!"


    My shout joins the roar of my gun as I wheel back on the flame and keep firing until the hammer starts clicking. My arms shake as they keep my gun outstretched, my chest heaving for breath.


    This thing''s too dangerous to let my guard down around for even a moment.


    I spare a thought for the fireballs that must have gone off in the distance. I hope they didn''t do anything too serious. We''re in the middle of a forest, so surely they hit trees or something. The blasts are too short-lived to start fires in green wood, surely.


    My eyes twitch to a flicker of blue in the corner. It''s a System Window, but I''ve never seen one flicker before, like there''s interference.


    Tentatively, I take a few steps back from the flame, and the window clears up.


    <hr>


    AN APOLOGY FROM


    HEAVENLY<sup>TM</sup> SYSTEMS INC.


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Dear Customer, this notice


    is to inform you that there


    has been a terrible


    oversight on our part.


    We at Heavenly<sup>TM</sup> Systems


    strive to ensure that all


    of our products meet the


    high standards that you


    have come to expect from us


    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    for all of your Heroic


    needs. Everything from


    body enhancement to flash


    education to the healthiest


    options in emergency food


    supply, our sacred duty is


    to enable you to do YOUR


    sacred duty.


    Unfortunately, we love our


    job and all of our cute


    little Heroes so much that


    sometimes, very rarely, we


    may lose track of some very


    minor detail or two.


    We regret to inform you


    that this is one of those


    extremely scarce times.


    Our systems indicate that


    you have encountered a


    [Heart of Corruption]. As


    you may have noticed, it


    possesses no corporeal


    form for you to damage.


    Similarly, we have


    neglected to stock any


    support item for its safe


    elimination.


    We understand that this


    ever so minor oversight is


    absolutely unforgivable.


    We hope to one day earn


    back your trust in us


    through our steadfast


    dedication to your needs.


    As a first step in proving


    our penitence, we have


    generated a new Skill for


    your cause. With it, you


    will be able to eliminate


    any [Heart of Corruption]


    or similar threat you may


    encounter.


    Our systems show that a


    special Skill has already


    been promised to you as


    part of your current


    System-issued quest. Rest


    assured that acceptance of


    this Skill will not


    replace the one to be


    generated in compensation.


    Happy hunting, Hero, and


    remember Heavenly<sup>TM</sup> Systems


    for all of your Heroic


    needs!


    <hr>


    A new skill? That''s an exciting prospect, especially if it''ll let me deal with this annoyance once and for all. I quickly navigate to my Skills page to check it, and focus my attention on the icon, helpfully illuminated with a "NEW" tag.


    <hr>


    PURIFICATION CANNON


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Ever seen a super-cute holy


    warrior fire off a beam of


    energy as they shout


    something like Love-Love


    Cure Beam, and thought,


    Hey, that looks more like a


    Death Ray? Well, don''t


    tell the locals about it,


    they''ll just give you weird


    stares and back away


    slowly.


    Instead, use this super


    cool knock-off-- I mean,


    absolutely legitimate real


    deal! Turn your firepower


    into the Heavenly<sup>TM</sup> embrace


    of love and wash away all


    of that nasty evil in the


    world!


    Expend the remainder of at


    least one magazine to power


    the beam. More bullets


    mean more power! Any


    special effects of the


    expended rounds carry over


    to the cannon, as well!


    Purification Cannon!


    Punish your enemies in the


    Heavenly<sup>TM</sup> name of love!


    <hr>


    ... Okay, that was definitely written by the sales department instead of whoever normally does the skills. Yeah, I''m way past wondering if there''s actually someone, or at least some intelligence, actively writing this stuff.


    Instead of dwelling on it any longer, I pop the empty magazine out, toss it aside to pick up later, and slide in a load of overpressure rounds. Special effects of the rounds ... With these, it would be damage and penetration, right?


    I rack the slide and return my attention to the flame with a grin. Time to see how this works.


    And as I shout, I pull the trigger.


    "PURIFICATION CANNON!!!"

 Chapter 34 - Five

    Chapter 34


    Five


    "Ow! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! How long is everything going to keep hurting?!"


    I help Ayre walk along the path with my arm around her waist and hers pulled over my shoulder. It''s only been a few minutes since she was able to move at all, and the Paralysis hasn''t quite run its course.


    "Sorry," I apologize, "I don''t really know. I''ve never shot myself with one of them."


    "You should," she pouts. "It hurts so bad! Like every muscle in your body is stuck in a cramp!"


    "Well, that would explain why everything else I''ve ever used it on always comes out of it ready to kill me," I muse. "Unfortunately, it was the only thing I had to restrain you with."


    "Yeah ..." That reminder dampens her ranting a bit. "I don''t know what came over me."


    "A status condition."


    The elf shoots me a glare. "Well, I mean, I know what came over me, but not what I was thinking."


    "That the spooky flame of evil was pretty and you wanted to touch it."


    She forces us to stop walking. "Remmi, I will stab you with my dagger if you keep doing that, and without full control of my limbs, I can''t promise I won''t hit something vital."


    "Understood," I say, doing my best to look suitably reprimanded. "Lucky us, the condition left you when I destroyed the corruption."


    "Yeah, great, now I''m just in agony for no reason."


    "It will fade," I promise. "I just don''t know how long it takes."


    We reach a glade and I ease her down onto a rock. "Here, you take it easy. We''ll call it quits for today. I''ll set up camp and get some food cooking."


    She doesn''t protest, but only shifts for a moment before giving me a speculative eye. "You''re sure moving around a lot for someone under ten percent."


    "Actually, I''m back up to somewhere under a quarter now."


    Her eyes widen. "Already?!"


    I shrug. "I had time to rest before you were well enough to move."


    "That''s not how recovery works, Remmi!" she scolds. "And besides, anything under half starts adding penalties."


    I nod. "Yeah, I can tell I''m not at a hundred percent."


    "And pain."


    I wheel back on her. "I''ll walk it off! Look, neither of us wants to be trying to set up camp in the dark, and I''m the only one with full movement!"


    "You shouldn''t have full movement."


    "It''s fuller than yours! And I promised to make camp, anyway!"


    Still, she scowls at me. "You also promised to show me your status."


    I give a sigh of frustration. "Right now?"


    "Right now," she nods. "You shot me."


    I drop my head at the guilt trip and summon the window. I keep the second age hidden, but don''t bother with the Outsider tag this time. She already knows that part, after all.


    <hr>


    NAME: Remmi Lee


    RACE: Human (Outsider)


    AGE: 15


    LEVEL: 5


    CLASS: Gunslinger


    HP: 48/220


    MP: 120/120


    ST: 200/200


    STRENGTH: 50


    TOUGHNESS: 60


    INTELLECT: 120


    AGILITY: 100


    POINTS: 28,520


    TRAITS:


    Hero


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Gun Nut


    Jack of All Trades (General)


    <hr>


    Ayre nearly looks like she''s going into seizures when she sees it. "What in the hells is with that Intellect?!"


    I give an awkward half-grin. "Yeah, that''s pretty much the exact same reaction the Battlemage Hero had when he saw it."


    She did a double-take from the sheet to me. "You mean that''s what you started with?! No wonder your Paralysis is so horrible!"


    My look turns confused. "What do you mean?"


    She sighs and palms her face. "Right. Newcomer. Or," she glances to the sheet, "Outsider."


    The elf inhales a new breath before explaining. "Intellect doesn''t just determine how much magical power you have and how fast you recover it. It also affects how strong your spells are. An Arcane Bolt from somebody with twenty Intellect and someone else with a hundred are going to be completely different in scale. The same goes for the intensity and duration of your status conditions, and how hard they are to resist."


    "Huh, so I might want to keep it up even though I''m not a caster."


    She squints. "Probably? But honestly, you''re already higher than likely anybody under forty."


    I don''t bother mentioning Benarou. For one, it seems to be pretty rude to talk about someone else''s stats without their permission, and besides, she''d probably just blame it on him being a Hero.


    Ayre turns her attention back to the rest of the information on the status window. "... Wow, you really are level 5. I know you didn''t have a reason to lie, but I still couldn''t believe it. Not that these are remotely the stats of a level 5."


    "I don''t have much to compare it to," I admit. "Nearest I can guess is they''re closer to ... maybe fifteen?"


    She nods. "At least. And why do you have such a disgusting mountain of points?!"


    I give an awkward chuckle this time as I scratch at my cheek. "Actually, most of those are from today. I get bonuses both for being a Hero and for using a gun, so I was getting two hundred per rat. Then I got a fat bonus for purifying the Heart of Corruption."


    She narrows her eyes at that number, probably trying to math out how much of it was what. "Yeah, I actually got a bonus just from being partied with you, which surprised me. On top of the System Quest. Which I didn''t even know was a thing."


    "Really?" I ask with genuine surprise. "Just being in the same party as a Hero grants a bonus? The trait didn''t mention that."


    "It actually notified me of it. Not nearly as much as you got, though. It added an extra quarter." She rubs her chin in thought. "That''s still considered a huge amount for us normal people, though. I wonder if it stacks with dungeons."


    "Dungeons give a bonus, too?" I ask.


    Her eyes widen at the question. "Oh! I didn''t tell you? Sorry, it''s common knowledge, so it must not have occurred to me. Yes, dungeons give more points than normal, it''s one of the reasons why they''re considered so valuable. Well, to adventurers, anyway. And even for us, they''re dangerous."


    "High risk, high reward," I sum up, and she nods again.


    "Right. Still doesn''t explain why you have so many just sitting there, though."


    I settle in next to her, to look at it over her shoulder. "What do you mean?"


    "It''s normal to have some, sure," she admits, "and more of them after something like this when you received bonuses and haven''t had time to burn them off yet. Most adventurers will take time to train after a dungeon culling to take advantage of it. But to have so many, it''s like none of them were spent on growth."


    "Oh!" I chirp with a grin, glad it''s such an easy thing to explain for once. "That''s because I''m a Hero! My points don''t spend themselves. I get to save them as currency and decide where they go for myself!"


    Ayre turns on me with a look of simultaneous awe and seething rage that makes me lean away from her. "You get to WHAT?! How is that remotely fair?! You don''t even have to put in the work! You''re just cheating at that point!"


    My grin is a lot less secure now. "I can also buy things with them!"


    "Things?!" she repeats. "As in physical objects?! How does that even work?!"


    "There''s a menu system," I explain. "Mostly, it''s things like rations and tools for an emergency, but it''s all of disposable quality, to discourage relying on them when you don''t need to. But it''s also where I buy my bullets and maintenance kits for my gun, probably since there''s no other way to get them here."


    I spin the screen back and navigate through them. I''m in desperate need of more bullets now, anyway, so now''s as good a time as any for a demonstration. "It''s also how I learn new skills and spells," I explain as I sort out my order. "I don''t have a Soul Orb, for example. I bought the Identify spell directly."


    I also add a couple more pouches for my belt since I''ve got a good reason for more ammo types now. Speaking of which, they do, in fact, have holy rounds. Burst rounds, in fact. (Make the light of wisdom shine out of their every orifice, the pitch brags.) They also have healing rounds. The idea of shooting someone to make them better makes my eye twitch, but it''s hard to argue against the usefulness.


    I add a couple magazines of each to my order, since they''re situational, and I take a moment to find that Heal spell, too. Like the others, it''s only base level, so it probably doesn''t heal a ton, not like what Seina can do, but it''ll probably be easier in combat than switching magazines.


    Besides, it''s not like I have much else to spend my mana on.


    As always, I''m struck by the inexpensiveness of it all. Even restocking basically all of my fire rounds and probably half my overpressure rounds, and adding two new types to my collection, I''ve barely made a dent in that mountain of points Ayre complained about. I add another each of the holy and healing just to feel like I''m spending something.


    The elf''s eyes are drawn to the box that appears at my feet, and her jaw fully drops open when I pop it to show all of the magazines within. "Where did it come from?! How?!"


    I start the process of moving them to my pouches. The empty magazines and loose bullets have already been transferred to my backpack. "Near as I can guess, the System has some method of molecular printing, probably using Essence as an all-purpose source material."


    She gets a confused look on her face. "Printing? You mean like a book?"


    Whoops.


    "Sort of," I try. "Except printing a book is along a flat surface, right? Up and down, left and right. Molecular printing does it up and down, left and right, but also high and low, so you get three-dimensional objects you can hold. And instead of just ink, you can turn your medium into whatever actual material you need."


    "Alchemy," Ayre says immediately. "You''re describing transitive alchemy."


    I consider that for a moment, then nod. "Yeah, I guess I am. There you go, then. My guess is Essence-based transitive alchemy."


    She mulls that over. "Yeah, that would actually make perfect sense. Still, the degree of detail across so many different materials ... No mortal alchemist could manage that."


    Of course, that just sets my mind to considering exactly how a mortal could do it, but I spare my friend a dissertation on blueprint databases and orbit-to-ground signal broadcasts. Instead, as I close the status window, I just say, "What do you think teleportation does?"


    Ayre opens her mouth, hand half-raised to gesture, stops, thinks about it, and repeats the loop a couple more times before squinting accusingly at me. "Why do you know so much about this stuff if you''ve never known any magic?"


    "I told you," I reply with a grin. "We just did things by other means. And our favorite question to ask was always, ''How?''"


    I cross my arms over my chest and lower my head. "Speaking of magic, I just picked up a recovery spell. Let''s see how it works."


    And as spirals of green energy begin to circle up around me and my health starts to rise, Ayre just keeps sitting there glaring at me like I''m openly palming five aces at a time.

 Chapter 35 - Jack

    Chapter 35


    Jack


    "Well!" I push myself to my feet and only give a passing glance to my mana - bringing myself back to full health with that spell took half of my MP and a solid couple of minutes. Definitely no completely topping up in the middle of combat.


    I turn back to Ayre, who has mostly shaken off the Paralysis status. Surprisingly, the spell I used didn''t completely relieve the wear and tear on my body; I''m still sore like I''ve overexerted. I know she''s going to be tender for the rest of the evening, too, even if she has full movement back.


    Recovery hasn''t changed our plans.


    "I''m going to get started on setting up camp," I announce decisively.


    "... Do you want me to help?" Despite the offer, I get the impression she really wants me to say no. Lucky her.


    "Nah, I''ve actually got a skill I''ve been looking forward to trying out," I reply. "I got it from Jack of All Trades, and I haven''t gotten to try it yet."


    Her eyes widen. "You actually earned that trait?! You said you''ve only been around magic for a month and a half! Most people go their whole lives without ever receiving a single one, and you already have three!"


    "Well, I started with the other two," I confess as if apologizing. "Being selected as a Hero grants Hero, obviously, and then every Hero seems to get a specialty trait that makes them better when using it."


    "It''s really hard to wrap my head around you being a Hero," Ayre admits. "Though I guess you''re definitely weird enough." She completely ignores my scowl with an ease that makes me worry she''s already gotten too used to me. "So how did you get that last one, then?"


    "Well, I picked up a lot of general skills to do different projects and people saw my work with them," I answer. "Both parts seem to have been necessary, because I didn''t get credit for the last one until I did a Wood quest for logs, even though I''d already cleared two acres of my own."


    At the mention of clearing that much land, Ayre just gives me a flat glance, including her ears going nearly level with her eyes. "Because what else would a Hero do with their free time?"


    I just shrug. "I needed somewhere to stay!"


    "Two acres?"


    "I''m going to put in a garden," I counter with crossed arms. "Maybe a pond!"


    "... This is a your people problem, isn''t it?"


    I blink. "What''s that supposed to mean?"


    She just shakes her head. "This obsession with crafting. Homes, gardens, ponds, dungeons!"


    "Hey," I argue, "I''m also working on making repeating crossbows not suck, and I redesigned our carriage''s suspension!"


    "No, really," the elf sighs, "how do your people get anything actually productive done? I''d be hard-pressed to believe you could do it all with magic, but without it?"


    I scratch my cheek at that. "Well, most probably don''t keep quite as busy as I have."


    She nods as if she''s agreeing with me calling myself an idiot. "I''ve noticed you do seem to have a lot of energy to burn."


    "And I don''t want to be a crafter," I insist. This just earns me another sarcastic nod. "There''s just a whole lot to get done and nobody else to do it!"


    "Right, right," she agrees indulgently. "So what''s this skill you got from all of this crafting you absolutely aren''t obsessed with?"


    "It''s a Hidden Skill called Auto-Mode."


    She frowns in thought, clearly searching her memory for any such thing. "A Hidden Skill?"


    "Yeah," I nod, leaning in with eagerness, "apparently, there''s all sorts of skills that you can''t get through normal means, even as a Hero able to buy them. They don''t even show up until you meet the requirements, and then they''re granted automatically. They don''t even take any points!"


    "With a requirement like displaying so many general skills," Ayre considers, "they probably don''t need to take any. You''ve already spent far too many points for it to be worth the investment by that point, anyway."


    "I built a slime-breeding farm," I explain that complication away.


    "Of course you did." Again, she shakes her head with a sigh. "I want to ask if you''ve ever considered trying something other than building your way out of your problems, but it got you a Hidden Skill and a trait, so as stupid as it sounds, I guess it works for you."


    I scowl at her, but it feels like the same face that makes Zeiya laugh at me. I quickly shove the worry about it actually looking like a pout aside. "I''ll have you know that I absolutely consider other options! In fact, I choose shooting my way out of my problems a lot more often than I choose building out of them!"


    But then I pause and consider my track record. "... Maybe. I think so. I actually haven''t encountered many situations since I came here where shooting''s really helpful."


    Stolen story; please report.


    She actually gives a snort, so I take it as an invitation to ask a question of my own.


    "To be honest," I venture, "ever since I''ve shown up here, everyone has been balking at anything more than minor projects. It''s fine to commission a better suspension when you''re stuck in a box on wheels for two weeks, and you''re commendable for wanting to stomp around your own land to outline where you want things, but suggest doing the work yourself, and everyone blows a gasket!"


    The elf blinks at the end of my declaration, her ears twitching.


    Right, gaskets. Probably not a pre-industrial thing.


    "Um, I mean they lose their minds," I try, but Ayre shakes her head.


    "I was able to piece it together," she assures me. "And you want to know if it''s something cultural you''re offending?"


    I nod, and she tilts her head to the side, touching her chin as she considers the question.


    "Nothing specifically scorned comes to mind," the elf finally answers. "But why do it yourself? Like I said earlier, doesn''t a Hero have better things to do with their time? No abominations to slay? No rabbits to rescue from trees?"


    I blink back at her. "Is that a thing?"


    "I don''t know," she answers easily. "I''m not from Dabun. They certainly seem to be everywhere else, why not trees?"


    "Fair point," I concede, then think over what she asked for myself. "Well, at the time, I didn''t have anything better to do, no. I mean, I probably could have found something technically more like Hero work, kept my stuff at the inn until crews got something built. But since I''m not from the Empire, I don''t have any personal wealth to pay for that."


    "How were you paying for the trip to Serazin Province in the first place?"


    "The Throne was shipping me out here, so they paid for it," I explain. "They''re the ones that granted the land to me, too."


    "Couldn''t the Throne have covered initial construction, then, as well? Or at least your inn room until you got going? That was the whole idea, wasn''t it?"


    I wrinkle my nose. "Yeah, they probably would''ve covered the bill, at least for the inn, and the mayor offered to let me stay there until I had something more, too. There were options, sure. But I didn''t like any of them."


    "What''s wrong with that?" Ayre pressed. "You could have focused on your job and let others do theirs."


    The way she says that clicks in my head. "Oh. That''s the problem. I''m not sticking to my lane. That''s why people are going batty."


    The archer is tilting her head in confusion, so I elaborate. "Ayre, would you say the Empire is a fairly regimented society?"


    But that just makes her furrow her brow further. "... Compared to what, exactly?"


    "Well, would it be fair to say that the farmer sticks to farming, and he might be able to do general upkeep on his wagon, keeping things greased, oiling straps, keeping it out of the weather. But if something major goes wrong with it, he''s not expected to do the work, himself, right? He''s expected to bring it to the people who do wagons and he''s supposed to go back to farming, because that''s his job."


    Ayre nods slowly. "... Yes? Is that so strange?"


    "And if his roof leaks, he calls the carpenter or roofer or whatever. It might be easy enough to learn how to do such things for himself, but that''s not his job. His job is farming, and civilization runs best when he sticks to that."


    "You don''t believe that," she guesses.


    I sigh and cross my arms, certain I''ve figured out the issue. "I wouldn''t say I don''t understand the position. There''s merit to everyone sticking to their one thing if you see society as a bunch of cogs."


    "But you don''t believe it," Ayre says again.


    "In my homeland," I answer, shifting my attention fully to her instead of my own thoughts, "self-sufficiency is considered a virtue. We even have a phrase for it, and you''ve already heard it."


    It takes her a moment to think about it before she guesses, "Jack of All Trades? I admit, the phrase didn''t make a great deal of sense."


    "It''s centuries old," I explain, "and doesn''t even actually originate from my homeland, itself. It''s been used to mean different things over time as a result. A respected leader of my people reworked it to represent the ideal skillset, though: A jack of all trades, and master of one.


    "To put it simply, you might have your one specialty that you do as your vocation, and that''s the big thing your community turns to you for. The farmer, the doctor, the blacksmith."


    "The Hero," Ayre inserts, and I nod.


    "But it is considered virtuous if you have at least a basic understanding of how to do other things, too. You don''t need to be a master carpenter, but it wouldn''t kill you to know how to build a simple shed, yourself. You don''t need to be a professional plumber, but knowing how to fix your own sink is a skill worth knowing. You may not be the village''s huntmaster, but knowing the basics of how to track, hunt and butcher means you have the skills to feed your family in tough times."


    "But the time you spend building your shed," Ayre counters, "and fixing your sink, that''s time you''re not spending growing food, healing wounds, repairing tools."


    "Getting rabbits out of trees," I add to her list with a grin, getting a giggle out of her.


    "That, too."


    "Do you spend all of your time hunting, Ayre?" I ask. "Or adventuring? Do you spend every moment you''re not eating or sleeping guarding caravans or skinning monsters?"


    "I spend a lot of my time doing those things," she answers readily. "I do have hobbies, but that''s a few stages below what we''re talking about here."


    "Sure," I agree easily. "But it''s not just time management, it''s frugality. If you can patch your own clothes to make them go a little longer, you don''t have to replace them so often, which saves you money you can reinvest in things like a better bow. But more than anything, it''s practicality. What do you do if there isn''t a seamstress or tailor?"


    "Or a healer or a blacksmith," she sums up.


    I nod again. "I will say Essence-enhanced bodies seem really sturdy, but I imagine field medicine and first aid are still pretty valuable skills to have, for example."


    "Absolutely." The elf narrows her eyes at me in suspicion. "... Don''t tell me you have skills for that, too."


    I give a wiggle motion with my hand I hope Essence will translate accurately. "No actual System skills, but I know how to splint a leg or tie a tourniquet. Internal injuries, there''s a lot less you can do about that. And, honestly, most of those skills got rendered pointless when I bought that healing spell."


    She frowns. "Well, make sure you tell the Guild about those field skills, it''ll raise your value for when other parties are looking to fill in gaps." She pauses and peers at me again. "Also, most of us aren''t as sturdy as you are. Anyone else level 5, even with the same Toughness, should have snapped like a twig, getting thrown around like you did today."


    I find my nervous grin coming back. "I''ll keep that in mind," I promise. "But yes, the System certainly makes it easier for me to do, but in my mind, there''s a great deal of value in being able to do things for yourself. Not all things, but being someone others counting on you can rely on when something unusual is needed is worth a lot to my people."


    "I can see it," she nods. "As you put it, I can understand the position. I can''t help but think you must not have many stable, established cities, though. It''s the only way I can imagine such a mindset taking root."


    That uncomfortable grin widens further, and I reach up to scratch behind my ear. "Eheh, well, it''s a geographical difference, to be sure. A lot of rural regions more like Dabun than the capital. But we''ve got cities that would make Fushiro look like Dabun, too."


    From her doubting expression, I decide to leave out the part where my country''s probably three times the size of hers, too.

 Chapter 36 - Gruel

    Chapter 36


    Gruel


    "Remmi, I was thinking about how you fought yesterday."


    I''ve got a cup of hot tea to my mouth with one hand while my other stirs a pot of rice with wild berries and game meat that''s to be our breakfast. Ayre''s an alright cook, but she was just going to leave it at rice and call it good enough.


    Dawn''s just starting to flood the province, and though the sky''s taking on colors, the biggest source of light in our glade campsite remains the fire. As such, when I lower my cup and look over at the elf, firelight reflects mostly off of her legs and glistens off of the bottom length of her bow as she oils it, but much of her upper body is cast in shadow by comparison.


    She''s back on the stone I first sat her down on while she was still recovering yesterday, but a good night''s rest did her a world of good. She claims that the campsite I constructed with Auto-Mode is the most comfortable she''s ever stayed in. Though I erected her tent, I did so over a bed of leaves and lack of rocks. Under my encouragement, she left the flaps open so she actually had airflow.


    But the bugs, she''d predictably complained. She would have complained about the smoke from the fire, too, if I hadn''t already made it smokeless with a second air feed, an innovation that absolutely blew her mind. As for the bitey little fiends, I''d already thrown a collection of wild mints onto the fire, including some I''m pretty sure are related to sage. They filled our campsite with a pleasing aroma that still lingers, but that I assured her the bugs would hate.


    I even got a new spell out of it. Auto-Mode took note of everything I wanted to construct, and then whisked me along to do so, but it left the fire pit unlit. I had almost just gone and done it the old-fashioned way, striking flint to the back of my hatchet over tinder, but then I recalled Ayre mentioning adventurers often used magic to start campfires. A quick search and a hundred points got me Spark, a match at the end of my finger.


    I was pleased to learn that we are both early risers, as well, despite an initial concern that she''d had trouble sleeping after all. It did mean that I got to light one more piece of envy in her when I came out of my lean-to (which I maintain was in no way an inferior experience to her tent) and immediately rendered myself and the clothes I slept in clean and pristine with my cleansing spell.


    I swear I only teased her a little before I gave in and bought her the item version for her own use. With that, she had proclaimed her last complaint about camping defeated and insisted she''d never be able to tolerate the normal way again.


    "You mean how I ran around in circles," I ask in response to her question with a crooked grin, "shooting into a mass of baddies that wanted a bite of Filet au Hero?"


    Just because it''s comparative shadow doesn''t mean I can''t see her brows furrow at my words. "... Yes. Exactly that."


    I chew my cheek as I consider how to respond. "Well, the secret is high Agility and a lot of adrenaline."


    I casually lean to the side to avoid the stone she hurls at me. Not that she was really trying to hit me with it. I think.


    "I''m being serious, Remmi!"


    "I''m not."


    Okay, pretty sure that one was meant to hit. The second stone clatters behind me like the first, and I put on an apologetic grin.


    "I''m sorry, I''m sorry!" I insist. "Please, what did you want to know?"


    Ayre takes a deep breath to settle and regather herself. Even then, she still picks her mug up from beside her to take a sip before speaking.


    "Remmi, where did you learn how to fight?"


    I give it a coin flip if that question is preceding mockery or praise, but either way, I''m not sure what kind of answer she''s wanting. "Uh, how do you mean?"


    "You don''t handle yourself like you''ve never fought monsters before," she explains. "I''ve seen plenty of first times, and my own wasn''t so long ago. I know how people behave when they''re faced with monsters in a life or death situation for the first time."


    I scratch at my ear as I cast my gaze upward. "Well, it wasn''t my first time. I nearly got beaten to death by a wood golem the day after I got here."


    "A month and a half ago," she recites, and I nod. "I somehow doubt you reacted vastly differently then. Besides, my point isn''t about an exact number. By your own admission, you''re green. If you weren''t a Hero, that badge on your chest would still be made of wood. The whole reason Sacred Yorin made you wait for another Bronze adventurer is because you have the experience of a novice."


    I can''t argue against any of that, it''s a fair critique, and probably true. If I had been dropped here without my gun or the abilities of a Hero, I''d still be struggling to learn the ropes, grinding my stats up like everyone else. If I''d survived this long at all.


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    "Okay, sure," I concede. "I''m afraid I''m still missing what you''re wanting, though. Are you asking if I had some sort of training back home?"


    "That, or any other excuse for it." Ayre turns to face me directly, setting her bow to the side. "You say you have no monsters, but you know the nature of undead. You ask me for information, only to find it redundant, and you go rushing in. You proceed to literally run circles around them in a tactic that can only be called inspired by madness."


    Then she narrows her eyes at me, in focus rather than frustration this time. "And even the abomination was not a revelation to you. You called it a boss. You knew where to shoot it. You never even stopped to think about it."


    I mull all of that over. I hadn''t really thought about any of it that deeply at the time, beyond how to do it. It was just what needed to be done.


    I recall giving Yorin a similar explanation for my activities on the estate. I might have a problem with long-term planning.


    I push my growing list of psychological shortcomings off to the side and use tasting the rice as a means to squeeze an extra moment or two to decide how best to answer her.


    "There''s honestly a lot of things that I could point to as contributors for that," I start after determining breakfast could definitely use more butter and sugar. Too bad we have neither. "It''s true we don''t have monsters, but we know about monsters. Mostly from mythology and fantastic tales."


    I motion with the spoon. "And I told you our favorite thing to ask is how. Well, that goes beyond just how something might work. There''s a lot of thought put into how we might behave, or how we should behave, in sudden dire situations, even if those situations are impossible."


    She''s giving me that stare again, the one where she''s getting reminded I''m basically an alien. "Your people devote time to considering how best to fight monsters that don''t exist?"


    "For fun!" I emphasize with a grin. Though I look away thoughtfully and tap my cheek. "Probably says something about the danger we faced in earlier eras when overpowering monsters from the darkness are a major recurring theme in our modern entertainment."


    Ayre scowls at me. "Would you stop that?!"


    "Stop what?"


    "Segueing into philosophy every time I try to get a straight answer out of you!"


    "Hey," I counter, gesturing with the spoon, "How we came to be the way we are is a How question, too!"


    "You and your Hows!" Another stone comes my way and joins the other two past me, but I''m certain that one, at the very least, definitely wasn''t meant to hit. After all, I only had to move a little that time.


    "Y''know, if you do hit me with one of those, it''s going to bounce off my face and go right in breakfast."


    "Do your people normally avoid them so easily?"


    My grin returns in full force. "We have an entire game called Dodgeball!"


    "... Of course you do."


    She sighs again and brushes her hands off on her shorts. "So you''ve had some sort of conditioning for this sort of thing," she reasons. "In those dungeons your people make?"


    I nod. "That''s some of it. There''s also literature and other media." And then I grin again. "We even have a whole bunch on suddenly showing up somewhere that has magic and stats!"


    "All I''m hearing is that your people have overactive imaginations that they allow to run away with them," Ayre counters, "and are terribly prone to overthinking."


    My grin doesn''t waver. "Sure turned out useful for me!"


    This time, her sigh is more like a groan, and her ears nearly point to her shoulders. "The worst part is that I can''t even disagree there. You led those undead around like fish on a lure."


    "It only works if you''re faster than the enemy, and if they''re dumb enough to fall for it," I explain readily, "but it''s a common enough strategy that there''s no single name for it. I''ve heard it called baiting or pulling train, but the idea is getting them to focus on you, usually with some light attacks, and then leading them to group up to maximize the effectiveness of area attacks. It''s a favorite tactic for clearing out lots of weaker enemies at once instead of expending extra resources taking them out individually."


    Ayre seems to be thinking the idea over. "I can see the benefits, but a tactic like that seems like it would require an unhealthy recklessness."


    I pause in stirring to scratch at my cheek again. "Eh, well, our dungeons are recreational, remember. There''s no threat of true death, so that let us experiment with a lot of different strategies that would have gotten people killed here."


    She looks like she''s about to scold me, but she stops just after inhaling and thinks it over again. "You know what? You should talk to the guild about building a training dungeon. I can actually see a lot of benefit to that, thinking that it''s actually possible."


    My look goes troubled. "I don''t have the means to do it the same way here as we would back home, and their construction wasn''t really my field of expertise, either. There''d be a lot of mechanics I''d have to figure out other ways to do."


    This time, it''s Ayre''s turn to grin. "I thought you lived to ask How."


    I''m pretty sure my face really is in a pout this time. "... I''ll put some thought into it," I concede. "I''m just saying that it''s not as easy as building a better crossbow. The technology we use for building dungeons is literally a thousand years more advanced than that. Toleste doesn''t even have the means to build the means to build what I would need to do it the same way. I can''t just roll up to Dina with a blueprint and say, Let''s get started."


    "You''ll figure it out," she cheekily insists as I pass her a bowl of the gruel. "And the abomination, was its weakness taught to you in the same way?"


    I nod, my grin back once more. "That''s the first rule of boss battles, after all! Aim for the glowy bits!"


    "And how does that make sense?"


    I think about it for a moment. "Well, mechanically, it serves as a simple cue to the participants where the points of vulnerability are. In actual application, though, anything glowing is a place where energy is concentrating, meaning it''s an excellent place to disrupt if you can do so. Or if you can see the glow from inside the boss, then it''s a good sign that location isn''t armored as heavily as others."


    "So if you actually see it, you have a target, albeit a dangerous one," she concludes. "Yeah, that follows with the same recklessness as the baiting tactic. And I suppose even if there aren''t any glowing points in real combat, it still teaches you places like joints are good places to strike, I suppose?"


    "Exactly," I nod around a spoonful of rice before swallowing. "Now you''re getting it."


    "And all this for something you don''t even believe exists."


    Ayre''s conclusion is delivered as flatly as her ears.


    "Remmi, your people are terrifying."

 Chapter 37 - Welcome

    Chapter 37


    Welcome


    Breaking down our campsite goes smoothly. Ayre has no problem taking down her own tent, though she compliments the ease with which my knots come undone without sacrificing their strength, and I promise to teach her how to tie a trucker''s knot for herself some other time.


    I get her attention just before I give the central pole of my lean-to a tug, then relish in the dirty look she gives me as it all neatly collapses.


    By the time we''ve got all of our stuff together and I''ve extinguished and collapsed the fire pit into a low mound of wet, runny ash and mud, morning light well illuminates the glade.


    Ayre''s gaze passes over it all as we give it one last once-over to make sure we''re not missing anything. "It seems a waste to go to so much work making all of that with your own hands, and then just collapsing and removing it all. Wouldn''t it be better to leave it for someone else?"


    "That would actually be rude to the next person," I counter. "What if they came all the way out here to enjoy the beauty of nature, and found a dirty, old campsite marring it, instead? No, respecting the wilderness means leaving it the way you found it, as near as possible."


    I take a few steps away, peering into the trees and then up at the direction of the sun to make sure I know which direction will take us to the road. "Besides, no telling how long it''ll be before someone makes camp here again. What if they used what we left, but it''s decayed enough that it collapses on them?"


    She goes silent at that, considering the idea, and I''m about to start the two-hour trek still ahead of us back to Dabun Village.


    "KYUU!"


    A battle cry erupts from the underbrush an instant before a gray blur the size of a small dog crashes into the side of my head and smashes me into the forest floor.


    Before I can even re-register which direction is up, a heavy weight lands on my back, knocking the air right back out of me again.


    "It''s a rabbit!" Ayre squeals in shock, and I''m pretty sure the sounds I''m hearing are her scrabbling for her unstrung bow. "Is it corrupted, too?!"


    "That depends," I grunt into the dirt. "Is it glaring at me?"


    The scrabbling pauses. "... Um ... Yes? Maybe? Are rabbits capable of glaring?"


    I just groan. "That rabbit''s not corrupted, it''s Kyuuga." I get my arms under me and shove. "Giddoff, you long-eared rat!"


    Again, before I can get a proper shove off, he uses me for a spring board and pushes me into the dirt. By the time I get myself sitting upright again and turning after him, I expect to see his chicken tail disappearing into the underbrush.


    Instead, I''m surprised to see him sticking his head out from behind Ayre''s legs.


    And I don''t care what anybody says about bunny face muscles, that overgrown throw rug is glaring at me.


    I chance a glance at my health and freeze. Nevermind ten, he took out thirty-seven hit points with that one attack! How did his power jump so freaking much?!


    The number taps something in my head and I furrow my brow as I run it down. Wait, did he do a sixth of my total again?! Is he doing it with that much accuracy deliberately, or is it some sort of set damage skill?


    I''m not actually sure which is more horrifying, the idea that this rabbit might have the precision of a mathematical surgeon, or that he''s got a skill for kicking the crap out of people without killing them and clearly knows it.


    I shove that ball of knots off to the side to focus on my anger. "What''s the big idea?! I thought you wanted me gone! Here I am out of town for one day, and--"


    He interrupts me with a rapid-fire thumping so fierce that Ayre has to step away to avoid the thrown soil getting kicked up into the air.


    "Oh," I blink, my voice dropping back to calm more from surprise than anything else. "That''s what you''re upset about."


    "Heroes can even communicate with monsters?!" Ayre asks in surprise, and I give her another hand wiggle.


    "Kyuuga''s a lot smarter than the average rabbit," I admit, "and even then, it''s not so much communication as it is getting gists and impressions."


    "Is he some sort of rare subspecies?"


    "Same species," I correct, "I Identified him, myself. But rare? I haven''t seen any other horned rabbits with a class, so I''d say that probably qualifies."


    "He WHAT?!"


    Any response to Ayre''s disbelieving freak-out is cut short by another indignant stomp from Kyuuga, who clearly does not give a damn about the elf''s existential crisis, and I turn my attention back to him.


    "I don''t have the stuff out here," I tell him. "It may not mean much to you, but we''re two hours out from town, and I am not hauling around my entire kitchen for one spoiled rabbit!"


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    He starts to raise his foot again and I hold my hand out for him to pause - a little surprisingly, he does so.


    "We were out here on important business in the protection of Dabun Village, and it won''t be the last time." I cup my chin in consideration. "You like Yorin. If you''re so insistent on a daily tribute whether I''m available or not, I can teach her how to make it."


    That sets off another patter of thumps, a hop, and a couple more punctuated thumps.


    "Sure, I can make you some when we get back. After we report to Yorin, you know that comes first." He hops a step away when I kneel down to him, but I ignore it and slip my bag off of my shoulder. "In fact, I was going to tell you when we got back to town, but since you''re here ..."


    I reach into the backpack as I speak. "There was a rat nest that got turned to an undead infestation further in. We destroyed them all, it''s clean and safe now, but ..."


    I pull the horn of the undead rabbit out and hold it toward him. "I''m afraid they got one of yours before we ever got there."


    He understands me, I know, or at least what the horn means, because his whole demeanor changes. The upright and aggressively alert ears slump, followed by his whole posture. He takes a tentative hop toward me, then another until he''s within reach of the horn, then with a quick motion, he gets it in his mouth and pulls it out of my hand.


    I can''t shake the feeling he has a decent idea which rabbit it''s from. Maybe he''d even known one of the wild ones had gone missing?


    "Hey," I say to him with some forced good mood in my tone as I shoulder my bag again. "You wanna ride back to town? I''m sure you could make it faster than us two-legs, but nothing''s saying you can''t take it easy!"


    He genuinely looks like he''s thinking it over, little nose twitching. But then he shifts and he starts looking between me and the elf.


    "Ah, Ayre, watch-- !" I start when I see him start butt-scooting.


    "Ack!" I''m too late and she lets out a cry of surprise as the rabbit clears her entire height in one jump, lands half of his feet on one of her shoulders, and then flips about to land atop her bag before she can topple.


    Kyuuga looks at me from his chosen roost with a mocking gaze, but I just chuckle.


    "Have it your way, Kyuuga. I''m certainly not going to criticize you for it."


    *     *     *


    The village gates are closed when we reach Dabun, and Ayre, Kyuuga and I all pause at the sight, looking between each other for an explanation. I obviously can''t say for certain that they''ve not been closed while I was up in the woods, but I doubt it. I''ve certainly never seen them shut.


    We crane our heads around, searching for any signs of a guard, and even try shouting, but there''s no response.


    "Well, there''s no signs of attack from this side," I note, "and I don''t smell any fires. No more smoke than normal, either. They could be sheltering for some reason and the cause just hasn''t arrived yet."


    I recall the mayor mentioning bandits and giants in years past attacking from the forest on the opposite side of the village, but I can''t really picture them being the cause. Not only were both of those wiped out by Xuhitana personally, I can''t see the village deliberately blocking their one escape route in the other direction.


    "... Do we try to open them, ourselves?" Ayre ventures tentatively.


    I remember the gates being jointed outward, the better to resist being pushed inward, and their arcs of movement are cleared and cobbled to ensure their ease of opening from the inside.


    "We can try," I say, and start forward.


    There''s nowhere to get a grip, so I just grab a log near the seam between the two doors as tightly as I can and pull. When that doesn''t make any progress, Ayre moves to help, but I wave her off.


    "Don''t bother," I tell her. "It''s barred, figured as much."


    "Then how do we get in?"


    "Well," I reason, "we could walk around and come in from the estate." That''s no small walk, though, and they''ve surely barricaded that, as well. I block the sun from my eyes with my hand as I look up at the top of the palisade, eyeballing its height. "How are you at climbing?"


    Both the elf and the rabbit look at me like I''m talking crazy. "Up a solid vertical wall?!"


    "Alright," I answer, removing my backpack again, "you two stay here until I get the gates open."


    I ignore their stares as I pull out and uncoil my rope, then pull out my hatchet and tie the rope around the middle so they connect in a T junction.


    Another mental note, buy a proper grappling hook.


    I stand and give the rope a few experimental swings to test the weight, then step toward the wall, eyeing its pointed peak. I begin spinning the rope faster and faster, building up the momentum while trying to keep it from getting so high it might fly away from me entirely.


    I release it, and the hatchet sails over the wall. I promptly clamp down on the rope sliding away between my hands and tug to kill its momentum, then begin retracting it until I feel the hatchet catch between the spikes. I give another tug and feel the hatchet turn, likely going flush against the spikes instead of catching on the back.


    Good, that''ll help keep it from slipping.


    I step up to the wall and wrap the rope around the outside of my body so it doesn''t get tangled up in anything, place one boot against the wall, and start scaling.


    As I go, I twist the rope around my forearms so that, should I slip, I can only go so far. It''s not necessary, though, as I make the climb without difficulty, and soon pull myself atop the wall.


    The main street of Dabun is completely empty. As high up as I am, I can''t see a single soul.


    I consider jumping down, since I really don''t want to leave my hatchet up here, but a moment of looking shows a guard''s stand not far to my side. Walking on top of these spikes is absolutely out of the question, but I toss the hatchet down to the inside of the wall, then drop myself while gripping the spaces between the spikes so that I''m hugging up against the top of the interior wall.


    I probably look ridiculous as I shimmy my way over until I can get a foot onto the stand, but climbing down the ladder is far easier than jumping would have been.


    I recoil my rope and untie the hatchet to stick it in my belt for now while the rope goes diagonally over my shoulder, and head over to the bar.


    The gates'' locking mechanism is a massive wooden beam, easily two Remmi''s long as it stretches nearly the width of both gates. It''s got a few grab bars bolted onto its square body, intended to allow for two to three soldiers to easily and quickly lift it into place.


    Despite my raised strength, I''m a far cry from two to three soldiers, even if they didn''t also possess enhanced physiques. Leuke could probably flip the thing out of there with one hand. Heck, he could probably just shatter the whole freaking assembly with that ridiculously massive sword of his. But I''m not Leuke, either.


    Standing next to it, I immediately feel regret for not making Ayre follow me over, but I get under it and start shoving, anyway. With a lot of grunting and groaning, I get one end clear and manage to walk it enough so its own weight takes it off the other side.


    I know it''s stored on a mount under a one-walled shelter off to one side, but that''s not happening under my own power. Instead, I let it drop off of my back and start pushing the gates open.


    "Wow, you actually did it," Ayre cheers with a little hop as I come over and pick my backpack up again. "And you made it look so easy!"


    "Then I''m glad you couldn''t see me struggling with the bar," I only half-joke, and she gives it a wide-eyed stare as we step over it. "And it would''ve been a lot harder if there were any guards there to shoot at me or throw my rope off."


    I''m actually considering if we should shut and bolt it again, as we step into the actual city, but before I can come to a decision, every door around us is thrown open and a wave of villagers come pouring out, making such a ruckus that not one of us can make sense of what''s happening.

 Chapter 38 - Of

    Chapter 38


    Of


    The villagers swarm around us, laughing and clapping and cheering. I recognize the wheelwright, the blacksmith, the baker. But just as often, they''re noticing our bewildered expressions and pointing and laughing over them.


    They''re almost deliberately moving around so much that it''s impossible to get an answer out of them. I get hold of the baker and she just shoves a basket of pastries into my arms. Ayre manages to grab a man she recognizes as the innkeeper, but he laughs and promises her room free of charge for as long as she''s in town.


    I''m starting to worry some sort of madness has taken them all when Kyuuga suddenly jumps from Ayre''s shoulders to mine and gives a cry, insisting on a direction.


    I follow his insistence and spot the mayor and Yorin just beyond the outer edge of the crowd. Graf is his jolly self, clapping at the sight, and the priestess is just giving that expression of motherly bemusement that looks so out of place on her.


    Little surprise she''s looking me right in the eyes the moment I notice her.


    I grab Ayre by the arm again and start pulling. "This way!"


    Bewildered, herself, she follows my order without thinking, but I keep a grip on her anyway so we don''t get separated in the crowd.


    The villagers laugh at how we push through them, but don''t try to resist us. They reach out to clap us on arms and shoulders, some women and children hug us, but pull away to let us through before they can drag on us.


    At some point, I realize Kyuuga has received a huge kebab of raw vegetables he''s gnawing his way through.


    I nearly fall forward when we finally break through and there''s no longer resistance to my forward momentum, and I take a moment to catch my breath.


    "What is wrong, Remmi?" Yorin asks in that knowing way she has. "Cannot bear the consequences of your actions?"


    I raise my head to look at her. "What are you talking about, Yorin? What''s going on?! What''s gotten into everyone?!"


    "Why, you have, Gunslinger Hero," she replies. "Nearly the whole village saw that pillar of light yesterday."


    My jaw falls open as my mind completely locks down. I can''t think of a single thing to say. I can barely process what she''s implying.


    "Indeed!" Mayor Graf corroborates. "To be honest, we saw the light and were terrified we were under attack! Fortunately, Sacred Yorin recognized it as a Hero''s purification magic, and explained that you and your team had encountered and eliminated an invading fragment of Darkness!"


    My team?


    I glance back at Ayre ... and Kyuuga. Wait, do they think that bratty rabbit was with us for the fight?!


    I catch myself and sigh. To be fair to him, he''s absolutely powerful enough to have been of aid. I just might have to sit him down and have some words with him so it doesn''t go to his head.


    ... When did he become my responsibility?


    ... When he became part of my "team," I guess. The answer comes to me as quickly as the question.


    Instead, I thumb back toward the gate, and in so doing notice that some guards have already hauled the bar back to storage.


    "If you knew it wasn''t an attack, what''s the big idea with locking us out?"


    "That was the wheelwright''s idea," Yorin provides. "It started as a precaution in case you didn''t actually succeed, despite my insistence that the light meant you had. Then he mentioned picturing your reaction to it, and it turned into a surprise."


    "I was worried you wouldn''t be able to get in," Graf admits, "but Sacred Yorin reminded us that a simple city wall would never be an obstacle to a Hero!"


    I eye the priestess at that, but she''s as unflappable as always with that motherly smile. "She reminded you, did she?"


    Everything''s always a scheme when she''s involved, Xuhitana had said. I''m even starting to wonder if the first spark of the idea really came from the wheelwright. And by getting the whole village so involved, she''s made sure they all know I''m not just some random adventurer, too.


    Instead of looking at all guilty, she just changes the subject. "I''m sure you''d like to tell me all about what happened so that I may relay it in my imperial report."


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    "Normally, people wait until after they hear the story to steal somebody else''s thunder, Yorin."


    "I believe in being proactive," she responds easily. "Will you be joining us, Mayor Graf?"


    "Ah, no, I think not," he declines. "I''ll get things settled down here. Hero Lee, I am certain many will want to send their gratitude to your estate that couldn''t give it to you personally here. I''ll arrange it for you."


    "Uh, thanks," I fumble. "I, uh ... I''m out of my element on that, honestly. That much attention feels unnecessary."


    "Nonsense, nonsense!" he assures me. "It is not just the Imperial Capitol where stories of the darkness have people in fear, dear girl. You may not think much of what your team has done, but there are none among us who won''t sleep easier tonight knowing that a piece of that horror was so near, but for the bravery of a Hero."


    And as he heads off to sort out the flash mob, Yorin speaks again, drawing our attention back to her.


    "The Guild wants to speak with you both, as well," she informs us, "but Guildmaster Kobi thought this sort of display was inappropriate for his station. Depending on what you tell me, it may be best if he speaks with me, instead."


    Ayre''s eyes are like saucers. "This is big enough that a Sacred Priestess would need to speak for us?!"


    Yorin smiles at the question. "Heroes are a Heavenly product, Ayre. But I am also a designated representative of the Imperial Throne. In both capacities, I may be required to ... interpret some aspects for layman ears."


    "You mean filter them for classified information," I challenge flatly, arms crossed.


    Again, not even a flinch of guilt. "Well, let us go somewhere quieter first, where we can speak in something vaguely resembling privacy, hm?"


    * * *


    [Yorin]


    The children''s story starts out innocently enough, and in territory with which I am already familiar. They set out for a simple Iron mission to clear out a monster nest of giant rats, a task far below either of their skills, to test their teamwork.


    I still hold that this was a wise course of action that more new parties should engage in, and despite my earlier teasing, it did not surprise me at all that it was Remmi''s idea. For all of the problems her Outsider status brings with it, she does not possess an obsession with status, want of material reward or impatience for preparatory labor.


    Is the girl wise? On that, I am as yet unconvinced, but it is clear that her naivety of our world permits her to jump to ideas natives too often wouldn''t bother considering. There is no reason in her mind to even second-guess such a measure. It is the heavy side of the scale to the same reason that she creates such terrible devices.


    Unfortunately, it seems things soured rather quickly.


    "... You realized the nest''s monster type had changed and been empowered, and couldn''t explain why, yet you kept going?"


    This is exactly the sort of recklessness that ends up getting people killed.


    "Remmi, I know that, as a Hero, you are unusually hardy, and your Heavenly Artifact is powerful, but even you should have recognized that proceeding without support was a bad idea. You cannot allow yourself such overconfidence. That is the very reason that I didn''t want you inflating your status! But not only did you go, you took someone with you that you knew didn''t have the same protection!"


    I motion to said other and turn my attention to the archer. "Ayre, you are a Bronze-rank adventurer! You should have known immediately that the proper course of action was to report the elevation to the guild."


    The young elf wilts under my reprimand like a drought-stricken plant, and even Remmi seems a little penitent.


    "Actually," the Hero puts in delicately, "we ... had pretty much that exact conversation."


    I let my surprise raise one of my eyebrows. "You did? And yet you went along, anyway? Why?"


    I know I''m not going to like the answer when they both immediately turn and look at each other. I too easily forget how poorly the young regulate their expressions.


    Rather than allow my own frustration to show, I take the opportunity to lift my tea and take a single, precise sip. They''ve been drinking theirs at uneven paces with little decorum, which is good. I want them to be comfortable with me. Ayre is probably just following Remmi''s lead, anyway. I can take the time to teach the Hero proper tea ceremony etiquette when it actually matters.


    When I set my cup down, I slide the plate between us toward them both again. "Another cake?"


    Their looks nearly drive me to assure them they aren''t in trouble ... yet. Predictably, however, Remmi''s gluttony drives her to take the offer regardless, and, confirming my suspicions, Ayre follows soon after.


    I understand the Hero''s initial concerns about her appetite when she first arrived, but I am glad she is listening to her body when it says it is hungry, anyway. Even Heavenly Essence cannot provide her the endless energy she seems to have on tap from nothing. If she tried to deny it and starve herself, I''d have to speak with her about the harm she risks.


    Once they''ve had a moment to settle down, I raise the subject again, careful to keep my tone gentle. "So, what was it? What drove you to keep going in spite of better sense?"


    They look to each other again, but this time, it is a mutual search for words. I expect Remmi to speak first, but Ayre actually takes the initiative.


    "The System told us to, Sacred Priestess."


    ... I''m immediately grateful my tea is on the table before me and not in my hand. I fear even my self-control isn''t quite that strong.


    "... The System did?" I repeat. "Directly?"


    "Gave us a proper quest and everything," Remmi confirms with much less formality. It''s a bit ironic, but next to Ayre, the girl is almost boyish. No doubt something cultural. "Both of us. Mission, objective, rewards. Interrupted us right when we were talking about going back."


    I take a deep, slow breath. "Just to be certain that I understand, you each received separate quest notifications, with independent rewards dispensed directly to you?"


    They both nod.


    "Mine promised bonus points, a new power and item, and a bunch of affinity increases," Remmi confirms first. "Told me to find and eliminate the cause of the undead."


    "Mine just offered me bonus points and affinity," Ayre notes, "but I''ve never seen such things from the Essence System before. My mission was to assist Remmi in finding and eliminating the cause."


    I really should stop being so surprised all of the time. I, of all people in this village, and perhaps most of the empire, understand the myriad ways that Heroes can inadvertently make life miserable for those around them.


    But I doubt there has ever been another Hero like Remmi. If there had, it would have been an era in history not soon forgotten. Whether that is a mark in her favor or against it, I''ve yet to determine.


    "Remmi?"


    She blinks at my simple, short address. I don''t think she realizes she does this little owl face when she''s confused. "... Yes?"


    "Kindly please stop breaking everything."

 Chapter 39 - Rewards

    Chapter 39


    Rewards


    [Remmi]


    I''m stunned by Yorin''s words and I reflexively run through everything I''ve done recently to see if I''m guilty of something I didn''t realize.


    It''s ... a surprisingly short list, and I don''t come up with anything that was actually broken.


    "... What''d I do now?"


    We''re all kneeling around a short, square table in Yorin''s ... office-house-apartment-thing. Ayre''s to my left and Yorin sits across from us. Kyuuga is off in a corner stuffing his face with potatoes and onions.


    When Yorin closes her eyes to talk to me, I''ve learned it means she''s concentrating on her exact word choices. Whatever I''ve done must be a pretty delicate issue.


    "Remmi," she says slowly, "the Essence System does not direct sapient beings. To do so would be to impose a will over them, defeating the purpose of sapience. It will support anyone connected to it, anywhere, regardless of their deeds or intentions."


    Without really thinking about it, I reach up and scratch the side of my head. For something that isn''t supposed to be willful, the System can get pretty darn cheeky.


    Yorin notices, because of course she does, and gives me the glare that says I''d better not even dare to contradict her right now.


    I put my hand back in my lap and hold it there with the other.


    "The one exception it might possibly make, if it would do so with anyone," she continues, "is with Heroes, due to your unique connection to it."


    "On account of us still being jacked directly into it instead of just feeding off the wifi signal?" I venture.


    Which, of course, earns me the, Stop right freaking now, glare. Probably should''ve seen that coming. Probably could''ve phrased it better, too, but I have a feeling she got the gist.


    "For the Heavenly Essence to direct both of you violates every stretch of understanding Man possesses of its nature," Yorin''s lecture goes on as if I''d said nothing. "The only possible explanation is the severity of the event. A situation where to do nothing would have led to a result anathema to its nature. Even then, it should have precious little capability to alter a non-Hero directly."


    I''ve already been scolded twice, but an idea hits me hard enough to override my restraint. "Maybe it didn''t."


    I have the attention of two elves on me immediately, so after a pause to let my mouth catch up with my brain, I continue my thought.


    "All it offered Ayre was extra points and affinity increases. Now, those seem more like predicted responses from people finding out what we did than anything actually generated by the System."


    I motion to myself by putting my hand against my chest. "As for the points, we already found out that just grouping with me grants regular people extra points, like I''m some sort of portable dungeon."


    Aww crud, that made Yorin''s eye twitch, a good sign I again said something I shouldn''t have. So I bulldoze on to the conclusion. "Maybe the System did nothing to Ayre at all. Maybe it just cranked the bonus from me way up for a moment right at the end to give Ayre the promised reward. I was the only one changed. Used me like a signal tower to roundabout get to Ayre."


    Fortunately, that seems to appease Yorin, who cups her chin as she mulls the idea over. "Yes, that would make much more sense. It remains mind-boggling in implication, but it fits more closely to our comprehension of its limits."


    "And seeing how infectious what we found was," I put forward with a little more boldness, "I think we can easily say you''re right about the severity. If we''d gone back to town and everybody took time to come up with a response, the days or weeks that thing would have been left alone could have been catastrophic."


    Yorin''s eyes snap back to me at that like hot irons, but her voice remains calm. "You have not yet reached that part in your retelling. You had only just confirmed the skeletal rat. Please continue from there."


    So that''s what I do. I mention the increasing environmental damage and my suspicions about the rats'' cannibalism. I include the large numbers and different creatures, how anything that got killed probably got added to its menagerie.


    I detail the tactics we used to eliminate the undead horde and how all of the pieces pulled together to form the abomination. Because I don''t want to leave anything out, I also relay the data from both Identify and Diagnose, and these cast a dark pall over Yorin''s tightly schooled expression.


    For once, I don''t think I''m the reason. Those things mean something to her.


    I describe how that battle goes, too, and finally get to the damned will-o-wisp. Throughout the recitation, Ayre has been providing her insights and perspectives, how things played out from where she stood.


    Now, she only describes her reaction to the flame and goes silent.


    I explain why I paralyzed her and my own temptations with the Heart of Corruption, and walk through my own thought processes and tests in trying to figure out what to do with it.


    ... I get ... interesting reactions when I get to my idea that Heroes could have innate resistance because of their direct System connection. Ayre gives me a bewildered look as she tries to process the idea. She probably can''t figure out how I might be wired up differently to a system that clearly affects the whole world as she knows it.


    Yorin, meanwhile, gives me a look like I''m trampling all over Vatican secrets. Thinking of things that I''m not supposed to be thinking of. Honestly, I''d be shocked if I was really the first one to make such a guess, but I can also understand why the Temple of the Ascended wouldn''t want people thinking of Heroes as inhuman super-soldiers.


    When I get to how that thought tied into one of my temptations, though, her face goes darker than I''ve ever seen it. It''s sudden and vicious enough that it takes me a moment to realize I''ve stopped talking. It takes her a moment longer still, and then to notice me staring at her. The expression promptly dissolves into a slightly troubled wrinkle.


    ... Okay, so somebody''s fallen for that temptation before, then. Good to know. And safe to say that it was with the predictable outcome. From her reaction, one would think I''d suggested reenacting the fall of Lucifer.


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    I make it a point to mention how proximity to the Heart disrupted the system display, give a summary of the corporate apology letter, and pull up the description of the Purification Cannon skill to share it with them both.


    Ayre reads through it with wide eyes. "... Is the System always so ... violent for you?"


    "Only the sales department," I reply. "Normally, skill descriptions are pretty mundane. I figure this one was written by the storefront side of things."


    "Remmi," Yorin gently scolds, "Heavenly Essence does not have departments. It is a singular, incorporeal, diffuse entity."


    In response, I pull up the skill description for Diagnose. "Is this how it looks for you?" When she nods, I let it go and navigate to the storefront, pulling up the item description for Heavenly Thunder<sup>TM</sup> Paralysis Rounds.


    Poor Ayre swallows so audibly that I''m surprised she doesn''t choke on her own tongue.


    ... Yorin, however, doesn''t look surprised at all. In fact, her expression is completely, perfectly neutral, a sure sign she''s actually trying very hard not to show anything. "Remmi, I''m going to have to ask you to stop doing that."


    "Right, right," I reply, letting the screen go. "Stop breaking everything."


    She gives a deep sigh. "Regardless of the individual manner in which the Essence may reach out to each of us, what is relevant is that this Cannon was able to destroy the Heart, correct?"


    "Right," I nod. "After that, I collected my rewards and took a breather until Ayre recovered enough for us to leave the area, and since we were both hurting, we made camp instead of pushing to make it back to the village that evening."


    "I see," Yorin replies. "And Kyuuga''s part in it? You''ve yet to mention him."


    "Ah, that''s because he didn''t show up until the next morning." I scratch the side of my head. "There hasn''t been a good time to bring that up, and frankly, I''m fine leaving it be. Let his legend grow a little bigger. It could help dissuade trouble from targeting a village with such a guardian."


    Yorin stares at me a bit longer, but I''m not sure what, if anything, she is waiting for. She drops it before it gets too awkward, however.


    "I agree," she says instead. "Though it will mean that people will look to you for dealing with him. After all, he''s part of your team."


    How close that lands to my own thoughts out in the street is a bit unnerving, but again, she doesn''t let it hang there long.


    "You mentioned you received rewards?"


    "Oh, right!" I pull my backpack off to hold it before me. "The System managed to swing extra-dimensional storage! The new bag''s bigger on the inside!" I hold it open - from the outside, it just looks too dark to make out the interior.


    Yorin, of course, just stares at it for a moment. "Remmi, that is not a new bag. That is the one that Jentas sold you in the Capitol."


    "Yeah, it gave me the option to apply the bonus to an existing bag, and I decided I was kind of sentimental about this one."


    She and Ayre both freak when I stick my head and shoulders in up to my collarbone, my voice echoing out of the opening that much of me shouldn''t fit in. "I don''t think it''s actually bigger on the inside, though. I think the System just set aside a room and put the door in the bag! Like a direct deposit box!"


    The backpack is yanked off of my head and I''m face to face with an annoyed-looking Yorin again, but I keep talking, anyway. "I always know everything that''s in it if I concentrate, and whatever I''m looking to pull out is what comes out in my hand after I reach in!"


    "... You do realize that if you are correct, you essentially just beheaded yourself via teleportation?"


    "Eh, one of the first things I did was test it with my hand. You don''t even lose sensation!" I hold my chin with that same hand. "If anything, it''s more like a portal than teleportation. So long as the bag is open, the room and where we are remain connected no differently than in here and outside with your door open."


    I reach for my backpack, but Yorin sets it out of my reach.


    "Causality is not a plaything, Remmi."


    I frown. "I know that! But I''ve also tested it thoroughly, nothing partially through is separated from the rest of it even if the bag is closed around it."


    "... Of course you have." She sighs again and crosses her arms, but doesn''t return my backpack. "You mentioned a new magic, as well?"


    My frown turns into a big grin instantly. "Auto-loot!"


    Both elves give me the bewildered expression I was looking forward to, and I motion for my backpack still behind Yorin.


    "Give it back, I can demonstrate."


    Her eyes narrow at me, but she relents and passes the bag back to me.


    I reach in and pull out a handful of bones. Like when I first picked them up, I open up the window for Identify over them.


    <hr>


    UNDEAD BONES (MIXED)


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    A random selection of


    bones from an undead


    monstrosity, purified


    from the Corruption


    animating them by the


    power of a Hero.


    Suitable for crafting.


    Yes, you can make bone


    broth from them.


    Please don''t.


    <hr>


    Ayre recoils at the mere sight of them. "Remmi! Why would you collect the bones from that thing?!"


    I pull my eyes away from the description and give a guilty grin. "Ah, well ... Identify said that, since they were corrupted and then purified, they''re good for crafting!"


    hate


    "Which makes it all the odder how she cannot seem to stop herself," Yorin puts in with a flat gaze.


    "They just seemed worth something, that''s all!" I shake my head. "Besides, that doesn''t matter. It''s just for the demonstration!"


    I toss the bones in a wide arc across the opposite side of the room, then hold my palm out toward them. The skill actually gives me an idea of everything in the room I could pick up, but I limit it to the remains. They all briefly glow and then stream as light into my pack again.


    I turn back to them for their reaction, a proud grin on my lips. "I''ll never lose a game of 52-card pick-up again!"


    The seeming non-sequitur disrupts their awe at the ability, but Ayre recovers first.


    "It will certainly be of great benefit when we head to the dungeon, to be sure."

 Chapter 40 - Training

    Chapter 40


    Training


    ��Oh, right, the dungeon! When are we heading out for that?��


    I won��t lie, I��m incredibly excited to see a real dungeon with my own eyes. My imagination is wild with speculation I��m simultaneously pretty sure the actual experience will never live up to, and I don��t care.


    I must look like an overeager puppy, to judge from the apologetic look Ayre gives me.


    ��Ah, if it��s alright, I want to put it off until I��ve trained down.��


    I��m confused, I thought we were going soon after the nest. And her phrasing is strange. ��Trained down? What do you mean?��


    Her eyes widen. ��Oh! That��s right, you spend your points. I��d nearly forgotten.��


    She takes a moment to consider her words and gather her thoughts. ��Well, for normal people with classes, practicing and even fighting only generates points. I could shoot a thousand rats without my status or skills ever improving. Until we accumulate enough points to afford an increase, nothing happens.��


    ��Oh!�� I pop my palm with my fist. ��So now that you��ve got a bunch of extra points, it��s a great opportunity to spend them by doing what you want them to go into! Burning them off like after a dungeon!��


    She beams a smile at the understanding and nods. ��That��s right! I��m going to work on my archery and the skills related to it. Maybe some Agility and Strength training, too, if I can fit them in.��


    ��Strength?�� I ask with a confused frown. ��Why Strength?��


    She taps her bow. ��Have you ever used a hunting bow, Remmi?��


    I shake my head.


    ��It��s not the same, or as much, as a melee weapon, but drawing it fully back can require a lot more raw strength than non-archers expect. In fact, just regularly shooting one will lead to Strength points. The higher your Strength, the higher the draw weight you can handle and the more powerful your shots.��


    She pulls her bow off and bends it under one leg to string it, then passes it to me. ��Go ahead, try.��


    I do my best to plant myself correctly and pull the string back with my first two fingers while my forward hand pushes away from me. The first half is easy enough, but by the time I��m getting past three-quarters draw, I am feeling it in my shoulders.


    And my Strength is five times what I started with.


    ��Oh, gosh, Ayre!�� I gasp out as my arms wobble trying to hold the bow at full draw. ��What kind of sleeper build are you packing?!��


    That gets a giggle out of her before she helps me ease the string back to resting so I don��t just let it snap. ��I��m actually surprised you were able to fully draw it at all,�� she admits. ��My Strength is nearly half again what yours is. Your Agility is higher, though.��


    She takes the bow back and goes through the process of unstringing it again. ��Your stance style is strange,�� she comments like an aside. ��I thought you said you haven��t done archery before?��


    ��I haven��t used a hunting bow,�� I clarify, ��but I had a youth bow when I was younger. I know the basics, but I wouldn��t dream of competing against you in target practice.�� I grin and pat my pistol. ��Well, not with a bow, anyway.��


    ��All that you had to cram into your brain,�� Yorin muses, ��and you still had time to dabble in sports you would never use? Remmi, your people truly have an excessive amount of free time.��


    Ayre glances back to the priestess in confusion. ��What about her brain?��


    ��Twelve years of formal education for all citizens prior to adulthood,�� I provide. ��Math, literature, science, history, biology ...��


    The archer shakes her head at that like it was threatening a migraine just thinking about it. ��What a horrible explanation for that ridiculous Intellect ...��


    I laugh it off with amusement, then pull the conversation back on track. ��Where are you going to do this training? The guild?�� I recall that big training area they had in back.


    But Ayre shakes her head. ��They charge to use that,�� she explains. ��An Iron mission, especially a split one, wouldn��t cover the service cost. Even the dungeon, I��d be throwing away basically all of my profits in one go. I was just going to get some cheap targets and go a short way into the forest, maybe come back with some furs for expenses.��


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    I didn��t realize that place was so expensive, but I guess it makes sense. It was pretty impressive. It��s really not surprising that you need a gym membership to use it.


    ��In that case,�� I offer, ��why don��t you come up to my place? I can get stuff for an extra bed and a divider screen so you can have some privacy, and I��ve got a target range for my own practice you��re more than welcome to use. And, shoot, I��ve got fifty acres, most of which I don��t have any clue what to do with. I��ll bet I could put together some sort of obstacle course for us.��


    She blushes in embarrassment. ��Oh, gee, I��d hate to intrude, Remmi ... I��m sure you have your own prep work to do.��


    ��Not really,�� I admit. ��If you leave me to my own devices, I��m probably just going to experiment with the purified bone and tinker with the Noodle Spitter.��


    Her bewildered expression turns into a yelp when Yorin clamps her hands down on the archer��s shoulders from behind. ��Please go with her,�� she urges with intensity.


    I feel a bit insulted, but it��s in line with what I want, so I let it roll and play my one extra card. ��Plus, if we��re doing things together, you��ll get more bonus points, right? That means you��ll be able to get more gains than if you just went and spent what you��ve already gotten alone.��


    ��That��s a good argument ...�� Ayre tentatively admits. ��If you don��t think it will be too much of a hassle.��


    ��Nonsense!�� I insist. ��And it��ll be nice to have someone around. I don��t know if it works with points, but back home, you always seem to improve more when you��ve got somebody alongside you, doing it with you!��


    ��Well, if you��re sure,�� the archer finally relents. But then she tilts her head as another thought reaches her with that matter out of the way. ��Wait ... Remmi, why are you training if you don��t have to do it to expend all of the points you got?��


    I cross my arms. ��I may not have to train in order to spend my points, but I still have to do it to know what I��m doing. The more familiar you can get with your body and what you can do, the faster and more naturally it��ll respond when you need it!��


    ��Oh, well said, Remmi,�� Yorin puts in with a casually accusing tone. ��Like Xuhi, you are growing skilled at passing my counsel as your own wisdom.��


    I frown - and very specifically do not pout - at my cool moment being called out. ��It��s not less true just because you said it, too, Yorin.��


    She gives an overdramatic sigh. ��Yes, that is her excuse, as well.��


    ��Who��s Xuhi?��


    I inhale to answer Ayre, but before I can, Yorin cuts in again.


    ��Speaking of points, Remmi, Ayre is correct that you do have quite an abundance of them. Have you considered how you will spend them? If this is to be a period of training, some self-investment seems timely.��


    I can see in Ayre��s face that we both got the message, and we play along with the topic change. I consider the question for a bit before giving my answer.


    ��Well, with this much, I could probably bring myself on up to level 10.��


    ��Please don��t!��


    I look to Ayre in surprise, and she fidgets in the wake of her outburst.


    ��I mean, I know it��s probably selfish to expect a Hero to hold themselves back for me, but ...�� Her fingers tie knots around each other for a bit. ��Well, the way your status goes, your ten is probably going to be more like thirty! There��s no way I can keep up with that! Just ... just wait until after the dungeon, okay?!��


    ... Is Ayre worried about being left behind if she can��t keep up?


    It takes me a moment to kick my brain into motion again and I scratch at my cheek as I grin nervously. ��Sure, Ayre, if that��ll make you feel better. If we end up in a spot where I need the extra power, I can always pump it then.��


    I turn my consideration to what I could put so many points into without raising my level. There are some abilities I want to get that will really increase my performance, but I hardly know them right now. I��ll need to ask around for advice.


    ��Actually, there is something I can do now,�� I decide. ��I could go ahead and bump up my Intellect so it doesn��t lag behind. That��ll help my performance with things like my fire and thunder bullets without increasing my level any, since I��m not a caster, and I��ll be able to focus on my combat stats later without worrying about it!��


    Yorin nods in approval. ��That is a wise choice that meets the demands of your team. Will you do it now?��


    I glance over to her with a quirked eyebrow. Is there some reason she��s wanting me to do it right away, or is it just more derailment? I suppose it doesn��t matter.


    ��Sure,�� I say, and open the relevant menus. I navigate through buying the points, then pause at the confirmation screen. ��Whoa ...��


    Ayre leans over like she might be able to see. ��What��s wrong?��


    ��There��s a big jump in stat cost past 150.��


    She looks at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. ��How high are you raising it?!��


    ��Two hundred. Any less and I��ll be right back to the same problem the moment I try leveling up my main class stats. I was thinking of bringing Strength and Toughness up to a hundred each, since I��m reaching a point of diminishing usefulness for them, and raising Agility on up to one-fifty. Two hundred Intellect just makes sense for ratio, then.��


    I check the cost of more Intellect points out of sheer curiosity. ��Looks like they jump even more after two hundred. Probably again at three hundred, I��ll bet.��


    I apply the changes and watch my Intellect and MP both jump to two hundred. Despite the leap, my level remains five. Disappointingly, I don��t notice any sudden spark of increased genius, either.


    With two hundred mana, the fact I have so little to spend it on weighs even heavier, but those new skills I want should help with that. I��m sure the few thousand points I still have left over will be sufficient for them.


    ��And done,�� I announce, rather anticlimactically I think. I turn to Ayre. ��Ready to go?��


    She, however, glances to Yorin. ��Um ... we need our pay from the guild. Do we still need to talk to them?��


    The priestess seems to consider it for a moment, though I��m certain she��s already made her decision long before she was asked. ��I will talk to the guildmaster and collect your wages for the elimination of the monster nest. I��ll bring you the funds so you can buy the supplies to sustain you during your training expedition.��


    ��Oh, right,�� I blink. ��Gonna need to get more food. Especially for two people.��


    Yorin smiles that motherly smile and places a bag of coins on the table. ��Why don��t the two of you indulge in the public baths before you disappear into the woods? My treat. I��ll come find you once I��m finished at the guild, and then you can do the rest of your shopping from there.��

 Chapter 41 - Stew

    Chapter 41


    Stew


    The prospect of a long, hot soak sounds like a slice of heaven, and with Ayre looking as eager as I feel, I can only imagine she feels the same.


    We may have had a full night��s sleep, we may have had magic and items keeping us clean, and our health and stamina may technically be full, but there are other kinds of aches that set in from those types of encounters. Tight muscles from emotional tension, overplayed joints from high-stress maneuvers, sore arches from two days of walking.


    There are simply some things, it would seem, that a healing spell can��t cure, and that a status screen can��t tell you is wrong, but that twice your body mass in steaming water can whisk away like its own kind of magic.


    ... There��s probably a lesson there, something about how the whole of the human condition can��t be reduced to a single arbitrary number, or that we��re more than the literal numerical sum of our parts and our needs are bigger than just keeping that number full.


    Ayre��s annoyed expression slides into my field of view, her ears twitching out her irritation like morse code. ��You��re doing it again, aren��t you?��


    I rub the back of my neck with a nervous laugh. ��Eh? Doing what? I��m just walking!��


    ��You��re going pointlessly philosophical on something incredibly simple again, I know it!��


    ��I didn��t say anything!��


    The elf��s face slides into a pout as she continues to walk backwards in front of me. ��If how people respond to what you do really bothers you, then you need to be more aware of what you��re doing that bothers them! And the first step in that is staying in the present instead of getting lost in your thoughts every time you have a spare moment with them!��


    I give a relenting sigh. ��You��re right, Ayre. I��ll try to be more aware of myself. But at the same time, I like getting lost in my thoughts.��


    She wrinkles her nose. ��Spoken like those collegiates you mocked, Remmi.��


    ��Eheh ... Do they call it navel-gazing here, too?��


    I get treated to the sight of her eyes glazing over as half of her expression collapses. ��... What?��


    ��... Did the Essence not translate that?��


    ��No, it translated it, but ... What?��


    I shake my head. ��Nevermind, it��s just a figure of speech. It��s not important.��


    I do take her advice, though, and turn my attention to our surroundings. I��m used to being recognized, given that I stick out so much, but more of the town than usual calls out greetings to us as we pass.


    Fortunately, no more flash mobs form.


    Something else occurs to me while I take in their smiling faces as they tend to their work, but I��m not really sure how to ask it without sounding incredibly rude. I wouldn��t mean it to be rude. If anything, it��s complimentary, but still ...


    Ayre still gives me another long look, somewhere between confusion and distrust. It seems like she��s not really convinced I��ll stop, still puzzling over the phrase I��d used, or both. Yeah, probably a good, solid, thick mix of the two. Like a new pair of boots and a Saturday Night Special.


    I give my friend a bright, cheerful smile to reassure her that I absolutely did not imagine a thought in the voice of an Italian mafia boss, nor was that thought to do with a needlessly theatrical consideration of her expression of doubt.


    ... For some reason, this makes her expression worse instead of improving it.


    Soon enough, she gives up her stare in exchange for a sigh and joins me in focusing on the village around us, and it isn��t long before Dabun Village��s public bath comes into view.


    Rabbit��s Stew is a corny name for a bath house, but I��ve never paid the building much mind before today. When I��m staying at my cabin, I have my own bath tub. Before then, I used the river. And now, even if I��m staying in town, I have a spell for that.


    Like most of the major construction in town, it��s got a mud brick foundation, but the visible parts of the frame are a yellowish-white softwood connected by painted plaster walls. That plaster probably covers more bricks, I��d imagine.


    The windows, like nearly all in the village, lack glass but boast charming bamboo shutters. The same material is used for the roofing, but rather than strips threaded together, it��s whole split logs of the stuff alternating which side is up. I guess that makes for natural gutters, but I still can��t help but think it could use an additional bamboo corridor at the base to run it to the corners instead of coming off right over where people are expected to enter.


    The sign is a wooden panel with the lettering vertically along one side. Beside the name is a simple painting of a horned rabbit reclining in a pot of steaming water. It��s cute, I have to admit, especially its little sigh as its forelegs drape over the sides.


    ��Welcome!�� The chestnut-haired woman behind the counter is calling to us the moment the door starts to open. ��Please leave your footwear in one of the empty bins provided!��


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    I glance to the side of the entryway at that and see an entire shelf composed of several dozen small, backless, wooden cubes. Almost all of these are empty, probably on account of the time of day. A simple, backless bench runs the other wall to give us someplace to comply.


    The floor directly inside is solid, baked and sealed mud brick, providing a sort of mud room type section to keep messes contained. The floor raises slightly outside of this area with a wooden trim that is then filled entirely with what I have come to recognize as tatami.


    The woman recognizes us as we sit down to start tugging our boots off, which I��m hoping will fit in the cubicles alright since most of what��s there are sandals.


    ��Oh! If it isn��t the heroes of Dabun Village,�� she gasps. ��I didn��t expect to see you in my humble bath house! I mean, I suppose it makes sense, but you two looked so clean coming in!��


    I feel a bit hypocritical over the burning of my cheeks at being called a hero. I guess it hits differently than when it��s just a title. ��Ah, well, we cleaned up before coming back,�� I explain as Ayre and I slide our footwear into the nooks. ��Sacred Yorin wanted us to enjoy a proper bath while she handled some paperwork everything caused, I guess.��


    ��Oh, she��s a regular here,�� the woman confirms as we approach the wooden counter she��s behind. ��At least once a week. I guess they haven��t gotten that far in the temple��s construction yet. I��d assume that��ll have its own bath.��


    ��Actually, I��m curious,�� I venture. ��There aren��t any volcanoes in this region, so this probably isn��t a hot spring bath, right?��


    The woman laughs right into my face at that question, though not maliciously. I just really tickled her funny bone. ��Oh, by the Essence, not on your life! Can you even imagine all of the digging that would require?��


    ��Then how do you heat all of that water? I didn��t see any chimneys for boilers. The answer isn��t just magic, is it?��


    ��Close,�� she chirps with a grin as she holds up a finger. ��We use elemental stones to produce the hot water directly on demand! It was an expensive initial set-up, but we really save on upkeep. Especially in the winter! We��ve got pipes underneath the floors we can channel it through that keep them nice and warm even when we��re buried under snow!��


    ��Stones, huh?�� My eyes roll toward the ceiling and I scratch at my cheek as I think about that. ��I haven��t seen those used since the capitol. All of the waystation inns just boiled it. I wonder if there��s any books on how they work in town ...��


    ��Oh, that��s right,�� she intuits, ��you��ve got that land outside of town! I can see why you��d be interested.�� She frowns. ��I��m afraid I wasn��t kidding when I said they��re expensive. It wouldn��t be as much for a house as it is for this place, but you��d still have to order them from a big city.��


    ��I��ve got other projects they might be useful for, too,�� I reply, already thinking of stoves and generators, provided they come in other elements, too, and I can somehow regulate their output. ��It can��t hurt to check, at least.��


    It sets Ayre to giggling as she promptly tells on me. ��Remmi always says she hates crafting, so of course she can��t stop thinking about it.��


    The woman chuckles, too, and even moreso at the frown I toss the elf��s way. Ayre is, of course, completely unrepentant. ��Ah, I��d heard talk you��d gone to the wheelwright and blacksmith with a bunch of wild projects. Little gears, steel trusses and the like. Well, if you ever manage to invent a way to make milk last for longer than a week even when it��s cold, you let me know.��


    I blink at that. ��Uh, you pasteurize it. Ideally, you��d homogenize it, too, but that requires hardware we can��t really get.��


    The poor woman stares back at me, and after a moment, Ayre elbows me in the side.


    ��You��re doing the word thing again, Remmi.��


    Oh! Right. Homogenizing, I can get why that didn��t translate, but somehow, I assumed pasteurizing was obvious. ��Oh, uh, it��s just heating it up to a high enough temperature for long enough without scorching or curdling it. You can do it in a double boiler.��


    The brunette on the other side of the counter frowns at that. ��You��d cook the milk you want to keep cold?��


    ��Eh, it��s not really cooking,�� I assure her. ��Unfortunately, I��m not sure how well temperatures translate, so I can��t say how hot you have to get it. But yeah, it helps keep it from spoiling and reduces the odds of getting sick from it.��


    She��s still frowning, but it��s more thoughtful than rejecting. ��Shame it doesn��t sound very usable, then.�� She forces a smile back on her face, though, and claps her hands. ��But you two came for a bath! Let��s get that sorted! For two of you, that��ll be twelve tins!��


    I pull out the bag Yorin sent with us and count out the coins within. ��Hm? She sent us with sixteen. If she comes so often, you��d think she��d have the price memorized.��


    ��Oh, that must be for the milk!��


    I look back to the proprietress. ��Milk?��


    ��Yes, we offer cold milk as a beverage served after a bath. It��s very popular, and the reason why I asked about preservation. Sacred Yorin always orders it, so she must assume that��s the actual price!��


    Ayre tilts her head. ��Is there something special about the milk?��


    ��Not specifically,�� she replies, ��but when combined with the hot bath, it��s thought to help the complexion and smooth the skin!��


    ��My people have a similar belief back home,�� I confirm. ��Some girls even say it��s supposed to help increase bust size.��


    The brunette promptly pulls out a writing pad. ��Oooh, that��s a good one, I��ll have to remember that for my sales pitch!�� She puts the charcoal rod back down and beams back at us again. ��So can I put you both down for a nice, cold milk after your bath?��


    Ayre and I look at each other in bewildered confusion, then back to her as I answer. ��Uh, well, I guess. I like a cold glass of milk, and Sacred Yorin seems to have intended it, anyway.��


    The elf beside me just gives a nod in agreement.


    ��Wonderful!�� She turns toward the shelves behind her and pulls out a bundle for each of us, consisting of a set of towels, a chunk of simple soap, a bottle of something I suspect is supposed to be shampoo, a simple robe and cheap sandals. ��You��ll be able to store your clothes in the changing room, and you��ll be able to get your milk at the seating area after your bath! Enjoy!��


    We thank her again and head toward the one big door further in.


    ��Remmi,�� Ayre asks in a lowered voice once we��re a bit away, ��is all of that stuff about drinking milk really true?��


    ��Nah, all myth,�� I wave the question off. ��A lot of people believe it, anyway, though. And, besides, what it is good for is rehydrating you and restoring the minerals the bath costs you in sweat.��


    I��m honestly kind of dragging Ayre along by the arm without really thinking about it, so I��m surprised when we reach a divider just past the doorway and I suddenly come up short.


    I trace the tug back to the linkage of our arms and look to Ayre in confusion. ��Something wrong?��


    She looks uncomfortable. ��We��re at the changing rooms.��


    ��Yeah?�� I sort of ask-state.


    ��I have to go the other direction.��


    ��To the guy��s room?��


    Ayre looks back at me in a mirror of my own confusion. ��Yeah. I��m a guy.��


    I won��t lie, my brain just dies on me. I��m not even sure how long I��m standing there. It could have been a couple seconds, it could have been a minute. My perception totally shuts down.


    When awareness returns to me, I��m still staring at Ayre��s face and we��re still linked at the elbow. ��Wait ... Really?!��


    Ayre just nods back at me with an embarrassed smile, and I clearly haven��t rebooted all of my faculties, because my friend has to pull free of my arm.


    I force myself to say something, anything, so while the first thing to come to mind is completely honest, in retrospect, I��m probably going to groan over how corny it is.


    ��Ayre?�� And the archer turns back to look at me. ��I gotta say, you are the prettiest guy I��ve ever seen.��


    And, bless his heart, that��s the brightest smile I��ve ever seen, too. ��Thank you!��

 Chapter 42 - Bath

    Chapter 42


    Bath


    The women��s bath is surprisingly empty. Its only other two occupants passed me when I was coming in, and now I have the whole thing to myself. Which, honestly, feels kind of wrong. I remind myself that it��s really just the time of day; it��s hard to remember that it��s barely noon yet.


    I would have thought that a medieval public bath for a secluded village would be something more like old, reheated water in a stone basin, but even this far out, the Imperial culture values cleanliness. I even had to shower and wash before I entered, just like going to a public pool.


    The facilities, themselves, are actually pretty nice. They��re not fancy, but they cover all of the needs. The shower area is sealed brick, like the entrance, with drains in the floor, but everything else has a love for this warm, reddish-brown wood. That stays true even out here in the bathing area, itself.


    The walls remain plaster. Given the understandable humidity, I��ve come to the conclusion that it must be some sort of clay-based mix, or perhaps they lacquered over it with some sort of waterproofing sealant, like with the bricks. In either case, both it and the wood are water-tight and pristine.


    As for the dirty water, there is none, not even as I��m sitting in it. The circular bath is perhaps a dozen feet across and has a big, covered drain in the middle, with fresh water pouring in constantly. Again, the similarity to a pool back on Earth is striking.


    As I��m lounging in the hot, steaming water, though, it��s really not the architecture of the place that��s absorbing my thoughts.


    Ayre is a guy?


    It just doesn��t compute. There��s absolutely nothing masculine about the elfin archer I��ve been traveling with.


    ... Is that rude to say? Am I allowed to think that about someone I consider a friend?


    I��ve known effeminate guys before, but Ayre isn��t like that, either. There��s always something about a guy that reminds you they are a guy.


    My mind flashes through all of the cultural issues from back home I haven��t thought about since I came here. It��s like a deep reflex that��s been burned into my brain. My conditioning tells my body that it��s a danger, like that will-o-wisp, that my gun can��t shoot, with social death the consequence of failure.


    All the same, it��s the only frame of reference I have for considering the issue, so I swallow my trepidation and dive headlong into that database.


    I don��t think Ayre is some local equivalent of transgender. I��m not sure what magic makes possible here in that regard, but he clearly expected me to realize he��s a guy. It had the awkwardness of having to point it out, rather than that of revealing a secret.


    It occurs to me only now that the status window doesn��t even have an entry for biological sex. But then, it��s not an ID card. Its primary purpose is to relay combat readiness to the person to whom it belongs, making such an entry doubly redundant.


    Maybe it��s a culture thing. It��s possible everything I��ve ever relied on as clues in this regard are primarily cultural. Add in the fact that Ayre isn��t even human, and that could be why it blindsided me.


    But Ayre isn��t the only elf I��ve met since coming here, and I don��t just mean Yorin. They��re definitely a minority, but not to such a degree as to be exotic. The wheelwright is an elf, and that man has abs that could shred cabbage from curling wagon parts all day. He��s slighter than the blacksmith, sure, but you��re never going to doubt he��s a man, in behavior or form.


    It��s hard to believe there��s some sort of elfin tomgirl subculture that��s never come up before now and nobody��s commented on. It��s not impossible. After all, most of my time here has been pretty secluded.


    I can��t rule it out entirely, like a tourist that��s never heard of gal culture, but it doesn��t feel like the right answer. Such subcultures tend to thrive on over-expression. When you hang your identity on a particular style or trait, it��s only natural that you overemphasize it. The whole point is that it��s how you��re different from everyone else around you.


    That��s one of the reasons effeminate guys are always so obvious. Even if they��re otherwise completely passing, they��re going to paint a red flag on themselves by overdoing it. They don��t behave like it��s natural for them to behave that way. They act like it��s a feature.


    Ayre doesn��t act like anything about her-- him is extra. Ayre just acts like Ayre. Fashionable, cosmopolitan, giggly Ayre, with legs to kill for and a smile to die for. Nothing forced, nothing postured, just genuine Ayre.


    Is that it? Is it really that simple and I��m just overthinking something again? Ayre is just Ayre? Maybe, but it doesn��t solve my original problem. Do I treat him differently because of it?


    ... Nah. That wouldn��t be fair, and I��d never be able to stick to it, anyway. Ayre hasn��t complained so far. I should trust her to speak up if there��s a problem.


    ... Speaking of problems, the other side of the wall, where I assume the men��s bath is located, started getting awfully rowdy not long after I settled in here.


    I hope they��re not giving Ayre any trouble. If things sound like they��re going to get out of hand, I��m going over there and testing how Paralysis Rounds work when wet.


    Fortunately, it never reaches a really concerning level and settles back down soon enough. I��m left to my own thoughts once again as I let all but my head sink below the churning water. Its movement toward the drain ever so gently tugs my body with it, softly stretching me out.


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    ... I��ll bet it was Ayre they were worked up about. I let my imagination run a little wild, picturing all of the grown men freaking out when a cute girl seems to have mistakenly walked into the wrong bath. Trying to cover themselves while panicking about making sure none of their glances happen to pass even vaguely in her direction.


    In my mind��s eye, the recollection of those noises fits perfectly, even if it��s a bit too stereotypical an interpretation to be particularly likely.


    ��Um ...��


    My eyes snap open at the sound of the familiar girly voice. That did not come from my imagination.


    ��Ayre?��


    Sure enough, there stands the elf I��ve been traveling with the last couple of days, torso all wrapped up in a towel with a smaller one over the hair, just like I��m wearing mine. And a face as red as a tomato.


    ��... I, um ... made the men��s bath ... uncomfortable. They ... asked me to leave.��


    I can��t help it. Before I can do a thing to restrain myself, I throw my head back in cackling laughter.


    Poor Ayre pouts at me, ears angling down. ��What��s so funny?��


    ��Nothing! It��s nothing!�� I wave my hand back and forth as I swallow air in an effort to get a grip on myself. ��It��s just, I could hear the noise from over here! I was just thinking, I��ll bet that was all over Ayre! Pretty thing walks in and they all lost their minds!��


    Now, I motion to my friend standing before me. ��I thought it was too silly to actually happen, but not only did they flip their lids over a cute girl walking in, they kicked her out!��


    I actually dunk my head under the water to stifle another cackle-fit. When I pull it out, Ayre��s still standing on the wooden walkway that goes around the bath, looking lost.


    I wave the elf on in. ��Come on, you��re gonna get cold just standing in the open air! You paid for the bath, and you want to actually finish it, right? There��s plenty of room!��


    That makes him start. ��Uh ... are you sure it��s okay?��


    ��Nobody else in here but me,�� I reply. ��And since it��s a public bath, I wore a towel in, same as you. If anyone else comes in, they��re not going to know any better and we��ll be wrapping up, anyway. And, besides, Yorin says baths are great for forging bonds. If a priestess says it, it��s gotta be true, right?��


    That puts a frown on Ayre��s face. ��Sometimes she does things that don��t seem very priest-like.�� The frown shifts, becoming more thoughtful as the elf meets my eyes. ��That usually seems to be your fault.��


    I point a finger back. ��Hey, I warned you of that day one.��


    ��This is only day two.��


    ��And you��ve already found out I��m no liar!�� I motion to the water again. ��Now, are you getting in, or are you going to wait until I get out and leave you in here alone?��


    Ayre swallows at the threat and is soon easing down into the water opposite me.


    His adventuring clothes don��t exactly mask his silhouette, but with nothing but a wet towel sticking to it, Ayre��s body shape is really obvious. I can��t help but think how, if he were from Earth like me, trying to wear men��s clothes would just make him look like he snatched them from his boyfriend. They wouldn��t look right on him at all.


    I mean, unless you were into that look, but it��s generally considered pretty provocative, and that doesn��t seem like Ayre��s preference. From what I��ve seen, the elf��s tastes lean strongly toward cute over lewd, regardless of how much might technically be covered.


    ... Gosh, he doesn��t even have a significant apple, as far as I can see.


    I let him settle in and get comfortable so he starts calming down before I bother him again.


    ��Ayre, do you mind if I play the part of the stupid tourist for a moment and just come out and ask something?��


    Ayre meets my gaze warily. ��About me?�� When I nod, he puffs out one cheek poutingly. ��Am I really so weird?��


    My eyes widen as I raise my hands to ward that off. ��No, no! I wasn��t going in anything like that direction!�� But as fast as the knee-jerk denial leaves me, my brain catches up and I reconsider. ��Actually, maybe I am. That��s kind of where the stupid tourist part comes in.��


    I pull my hand back out of the water to motion up and down the elf across from me. ��I ... don��t actually know enough about elves to know if there��s anything weird or not.��


    Ayre��s expression changes to one of disbelief. ��Really?��


    ��Really,�� I confirm. ��Like magic, I��d never even seen a real elf until after I came here.��


    ��Wow, your homeland really is far away,�� he summarizes. ��No magic, no elves, no dungeons ... Next thing you��re going to tell me is there��s no Essence, either.��


    There��s an increasingly awkward silence that expands through the bath until Ayre glares accusingly at me. ��Remmi ...��


    I give a clumsy shrug.


    ��Oh, come on, that��s too far! You��re literally talking about life, itself, now!��


    ��I don��t know anything about that,�� I counter. ��All I know is that when I got here, I had zero points! The System is supposed to record everything, but it had nothing on me. Even my Outsider race tag, it��s not just outside of magic and dungeons. It��s because my whole existence was outside of the System.��


    ��You��re a Hero, Remmi! You can��t have been outside the System. How would it have grabbed you in the first place?!��


    I open my mouth to retort, but pause. ��That��s ... actually a good point ...��


    Ayre sighs with a shake of the head. ��Hundred-twenty Intellect, and never considered the obvious.��


    I��m the one pouting this time. ��It��s two hundred now!��


    ��Sure, sure, keep making it worse.�� My friend drops the teasing, though. In fact, Ayre goes completely silent, clearly building up the nerve to answer the awkward question.


    ��I don��t think there��s anything weird about me,�� my bathmate finally answers. ��I like how I look, and I��m not doing crazy things for it. This is just who I am.��


    I give an understanding nod. ��But from that answer, I��m guessing most elf guys don��t have your figure?��


    That earns me a blinking stare for half a second, then Ayre��s face goes red again before he tucks a lock of loose hair behind an ear. ��Oh, right, that��s more what you asked ...��


    Ayre gives a deep sigh and pulls his knees in to clasp his arms around them and hug them to his chest. ��... No. No, most don��t. Elves are all slighter than humans, obviously, but I��ve always been shorter and softer than average. I��ve never really wondered why, any more than you��ve probably ever wondered why your hair is yellow. For an elf, it��s not even that extreme.��


    I self-consciously tuck my own hair at his comparison. ��... Do you have a preference?��


    ��... For what?��


    Oh, yeah, that wasn��t exactly a clear choice of words, was it? I try again. ��I imagine most anyone who sees you is just going to assume you��re female. A pretty girl with an eye for fashion and a cute giggle. Does that bother you? Do you like being seen that way?��


    Ayre takes a moment to process that, then shakes his head. ��I mean, I like the idea that people think I��m cute, I guess, but boy or girl, I don��t really mind. I just answer to whatever they��re calling me.��


    ��You don��t identify strongly one way or the other?��


    Now, Ayre really looks confused, ears wiggling as his head tilts to one side. ��... Is that something your people do?��


    ... Right. I file that under alien concept, then. No big deal. Still, it sounds like the answer is, No, not really. Inasmuch as the concept of gender identity exists here, Ayre doesn��t really seem to have one. Ayre really is just Ayre.


    That��s actually kind of wholesome in its own right, I decide. Not caring about labels at all.


    ... On the tail of that thought, another, sillier one occurs to me. One could say Ayre is a Boy In Name Only. Which would make him ...


    ... an Ayre-bino!


    The elf��s gaze goes flat as I bury my head in the water to stifle my giggle-fit again. ��Now what��s so funny?��


    Pity there��s no way that one��s gonna translate.

 Chapter 43 - Pay

    Chapter 43


    Pay


    ��... Do you really think I��m fashionable?��


    We��re in the little cafe area between the changing rooms and the showers, every customer clad in identical simple robes. Between these and the towels, I��m convinced the proprietress or someone in her employ knows the Cleanse spell, too. There��s no way they do this much laundry by hand.


    I stop mid-stride at Ayre��s question and turn to stare at the elf like I doubted my ears. ��... You��re kidding, right?��


    Ayre��s slow to meet my eyes. ��Well, you said it��s how people see me, but your style��s so unique ...��


    I blink back at her -- him -- screw it. ��My style? I��d like to think I have a good eye, but I literally came here with nothing but my gun to my name. In all of Toleste, I own exactly two sets of clothes, and one of them��s a set of one-size-fits-all robes that the Temple gave all of the Heroes because we spawned in naked as a flock of jaybirds. And my adventuring gear was made for me before I even came looking for it.��


    ��You really don��t have anything else?��


    ��Yorin��s bringing us my first real paycheck since I came here. Every other little bit I earn has gone right back into tools and supplies.�� I motion around us. ��And don��t get me wrong, Dabun��s a really homey place, but I��m not big on fur. If I ever decide to build up a wardrobe, it��ll have to be somewhere else, and I��ll need more cash to get it.��


    The elf gives a more understanding nod as we begin heading toward the counter again. ��I��m sorry, I keep forgetting that you really don��t have anything.�� Those thick eyelashes blink. ��Well, except for a big plot of land, a heavenly artifact, hundreds of bars worth of alchemical compounds, a noble��s carriage ...��


    ��Yeah, yeah,�� I sigh, ��I��ve kinda ended up in a weird place in that regard ...��


    Rather than relenting, Ayre turns toward me fully with narrowed eyes. ��Actually, Remmi, the more I think about it, aren��t you really quite materially wealthy?��


    ��I get it, alright?! I��ll look into buying some new clothes, I promise! I��m still not doing it in Dabun, though!��


    This seems to satisfy the fashion-conscious archer, who apparently takes personal offense at travel companions not having a well-populated wardrobe, and we flag down a different woman than the one at the front desk to order our milk.


    I turn back to Ayre while she��s getting it. ��And yes, I think you��re fashionable. Your sense of style was one of the first things I noticed about you, in fact. It looks like something you could wear in a big Imperial city without looking out of place questing in the wilderness, either.��


    Ayre is clearly trying not to blush, and decides to cover it up with another quip at me from behind a smug facade. ��Somehow, that carried a lot more weight when I thought you actually dressed yourself. But don��t worry, I��ll use my impeccable fashion sense to help you pick something out!��


    Oh-ho, you want to cross swords with me, do you, Ayre?


    I smile as the bartender sets the glasses of cold milk before us, and I raise mine up to toast. ��Then I��ll be trusting myself to your wisdom.�� Once we bump glasses, we each take a drink, and I take my shot. ��While we��re at it, we can get you fitted for a bra, so you stop poking through your top.��


    The immediate spray of ivory liquid from Ayre��s lips is everything I hoped for as his free arm wraps around his chest protectively, even though these bath robes are deliberately plenty thick enough for concealment.


    ��They do not poke through,�� the elf insists, face red as a tomato. ��That��s what the wrap is for!��


    ��Oh?�� I inquire, arching an eyebrow and smirking around my cup. ��So they are on the puffy side, then?��


    Okay, I lied, now Ayre��s face is as red as a tomato. He��s also sputtering like a gasping fish for anything to say, so I turn and motion to the bartender instead.


    ��Excuse me, can my friend get another milk? That was my fault.��


    * * *


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    We��re putting our boots back on when the door beside us opens.


    ��What perfect timing! I was worried you two would still be in the baths!��


    I look up from tugging the leather up tight to see Yorin��s smiling face. ��Somehow, I don��t believe that for a moment,�� I note with sarcasm. ��I��m starting to think Priests have some sort of tracking skill.��


    ��Oh?�� she asks as if genuinely intrigued by the idea. ��My, how helpful that would be. We could keep at-risk patients under observation without having to be at their bedside. But no, there is no such priest skill, unfortunately.��


    Ayre finishes first and gets to his feet. ��How did the meeting with the guild master go, Sacred Priestess?��


    She holds the door open for us and motions us out with a smile. Once we��re out on the street, she starts walking, giving us no choice but to follow her. ��In due time,�� the priestess insists. ��First, how was the bath house?��


    Ayre and I look to each other at the refusal. Or, at least, for me, it��s the refusal. Ayre might be trying to find what to say.


    ��Refreshing,�� I take the initiative. ��Way better than I expected of a place in a distant, secluded village like Dabun.��


    ��Isn��t it?�� she agrees readily. ��The owner doesn��t like to brag about it, but she has family that owns larger facilities in a couple bigger cities. I��m certain that inspired her to excellence.��


    ��The milk is a nice touch,�� Ayre offers. ��I��d never really taken it before. Remmi said it restores the stuff you sweat out in the heat of the bath.��


    Yorin nods sagely at that statement. ��It also helps your skin look its best and purges impurities.��


    Ayre throws me another glance, far more hesitant than I would be to directly contradict her. ��Uh ... Remmi said that��s just a myth ...��


    Yorin stops dead in her tracks, forcing both of us to jerk short, as well. Her smile doesn��t disappear, but I can feel its tension even though she��s still looking away from us.


    After a moment, still in the same sunny tone, she replies, ��Remmi should get into the habit of Diagnosing her food and monitoring her Status, instead of assuming that she knows everything.��


    An awkward quiet settles over us as we process that we��re being scolded, and I��m left wondering if maybe she��s right. I just assumed milk is milk, and baths are baths. Are there really additional effects without the use of magic?


    We��d previously discussed coffee, of course, but the so-called buffs sounded like just the normal benefits of caffeine. Why would I have assumed anything different about milk? It��s already a superfood with plenty of innate benefits without magic being one of them.


    ... Maybe Yorin just didn��t like her beauty regimen being questioned?


    The priestess starts moving again before either of us come up with any sort of response. ��Master Kobi received the report on the completion of your quest personally,�� she says, moving on to the topic at hand.


    ��For Remmi��s sake, that is not the normal order of things. As Ayre already knows, such paperwork and their payouts are typically handled by the staff. He also upgraded the reward due to the unexpected risks you faced.��


    ��That is normal,�� Ayre helpfully explains to me, ��though you usually have to bring back evidence to get the increase. Between your Cannon skill and the word of a Sacred Priestess, though, I guess that was considered evidence enough.��


    I think back to our intended retreat before the System stepped in. ��Does that mean we would have needed to bring back evidence of the undead if we��d reported it back to the guild?��


    But Ayre gives a shake of the head. ��If it��s just reporting, an eyewitness account is plenty. After all, the guild��s next step would have been to send professionals to reassess the situation, which makes any proof we might have brought redundant.��


    Yorin gives a soft hum. ��Speaking of reassessing, Master Kobi wants both of you retested.��


    Ayre balks in a panic. ��A retest?! Already?! But I barely did anything! Really, Remmi did all of the work, I was just a glorified guide!��


    I scrunch my face in my confusion. ��Why do you sound like you��re trying to throw me in front of the cart?��


    The archer deflates with a dramatic sigh, arms going slack. ��I��m sorry, I just thought I��d actually be able to keep hold of some of my pay for once.��


    I scratch at my chin in thought. ��They didn��t charge me anything for the first one.��


    ��They don��t,�� Ayre confirms. ��First one is free as part of the admissions process. Retesting is the only way to rank up, though, so the higher your rank, the more they charge. And since the pricing assumes you can save up for it and take it on your own time ...��


    When the elf sighs and lets that statement hang unfinished, I pick it up for him. ��... They feel justified in making it expensive.��


    After Ayre nods, though, I tilt my head, considering it. ��It makes sense, though. If retesting was cheap, or even free, people could flood them with retest requests, which costs time and resources. Higher ranks would require special proctors, too, who have their own schedules to work around.��


    But Ayre just glares flatly back at me. ��And that��s fine when it��s your choice! You can set a bit aside from each job until you can cover it!�� She sighs again. ��We��ll be lucky if we have enough left to live on cabbage soup for training.��


    ��Oh, that��s not a problem,�� I assure my friend. ��There��s enough wild food up there to keep us fed. We can just work it into the training! Maybe you can even get Wilderness Survival out of it!��


    Ayre opens his mouth again, but Yorin cuts in.


    ��While I applaud your resourcefulness, Remmi, that is not why it shan''t be a problem. Since he is demanding the retest, I convinced him that the guild should be the one covering the fee.�� She glances back at us. ��He also saw reason in waiting until after you return from culling the bronze dungeon.��


    Relief is flooding Ayre��s face, but I��m grinning as I elbow her, anyway. ��Hey, that means we really need to up your training! If you can get a free rank out of it, we need to make sure you ace it!��


    Ayre rubs the space between ribs where my elbow landed with a small wince. ��That��s a long way to go, Remmi. Most people don��t take the Silver test until at least thirty. For you, that kind of power is only 50 Agility away, but I��d have to almost double my level to get there. And if it��s after we get back, I won��t have time to spend my dungeon points, either.��


    ��You will if we camp out to do it before we head back! It doesn��t sound like there��s anything keeping us from taking our time!��


    ��You might as well give up, Ayre,�� Yorin advises with a subtle smirk, ��because the Gunslinger Hero does not appear to know how.��

 Chapter 44 - Eccentric

    Chapter 44


    Eccentric


    ��Remmi, your buildings are weird.��


    That puts a grin on my face as I come up next to Ayre, standing before my cabin. ��This is an old design. Rustic. Quick and easy to build from natural resources. Honestly, a more modern design would have more in common with what you��re familiar with.��


    Ayre arches an eyebrow, ears twitching doubtfully as he frowns at me. ��Really? Your people went from this to Imperial design?��


    I give a wiggly hand. ��Ehhh, no, not so much the same design, but the same construction methods. Solid foundation, wooden frames. We don��t use clay bricks or plaster, but our equivalents aren��t unrecognizable.��


    ��What do you use, then?��


    ��Concrete and sheet rock.��


    Predictably, the frown returns. ��Remmi, those words mean nothing.��


    I just shrug. ��Don��t blame me, that��s what they��re called. Concrete is a paste made from lime, silicates, gravel, sand and water, and it hardens to stone in whatever shape you put it in. That means we can make seamless foundations that are perfectly level without having to cut individual stones or bricks for every project.��


    ��Riiiiiight,�� Ayre draws it out. ��And the rock sheets?��


    I prop my palms on my hips. ��Really, that��s just plaster inlaid with fibers to hold it together, and then treated to make it resist mold, water and fire. It comes in sheets and you just put it over the frame and insulation and fasten it down.��


    Ayre turns back to the log cabin before us, arms crossed over his belly - and, if I might add, hip cocked to the side, I don��t think he even realizes he does it. He juts out his bottom lip and chews on it thoughtfully.


    ��Remmi, that doesn��t sound different at all. It just sounds like you pay someone else to do all of the work ahead of time.��


    I can��t help but laugh at that. ��Maybe! I did say they weren��t unrecognizable! My people caught the assembly line bug a century ago and can��t let it go!�� I tug the elf by the arm on up onto the porch. ��Come on, I��ll show you the inside!��


    Once we��re there, it doesn��t take long for Ayre��s confused expression to return. He seems bewildered at seeing the entire interior of the cabin at once. ��This is how your people lay out a home?��


    ��Nah,�� I wave the idea off. ��Since this is just a temporary structure, everything��s just sort of put in a vaguely useful place.��


    ��Oh, good ...�� Ayre actually sighs with relief. ��For a moment, I thought that maybe your people had a habit of taking up big, open spaces with nothing in them just to be obnoxious.��


    ��Eh?��


    I look over the four walls in confusion of my own. The whole cabin couldn��t be more than four, maybe five hundred square feet. If I got down on my belly, then head to foot, I might just fit four of me along one wall.


    ... Would that make the place sixteen square Remmis?


    I push the mental image of misshapen, chibified versions of myself from my mind and force it back to the topic at hand.


    ��It isn��t really that big, though,�� I insist.


    Ayre looks back at me, ears parallel with those big eyes and his lip��s stuck out again. ��... Are you serious?��


    I make sure to nod with extra zeal to reassure the elf. ��Absolutely! Like I said, it��s temporary and more for storage and so I have my own bed to sleep in.�� I pop my fist into the palm of my other hand as I gasp. ��Oh! I��ll bet it just looks that way to you because of the lack of walls! I didn��t see much point in including any, so the open floor plan makes everything look way bigger than it really is!��


    ��Remmi, how many houses have you been in? I mean since you��ve come to Furinshao.��


    I wrap one arm under my chest while my other hand rubs at my chin. Have I been in any native homes? I really have to rack my brain over it. I��ve been in a temple, lots of inns ...


    ��One!�� I unfold my arms to point victoriously back at the elf. ��I��ve been in Yorin��s little house!�� But then I frown. ��I kinda just assumed it was temporary, too, though.��


    ��I��m sure it is,�� Ayre confirms, ��and it��s smaller than a permanent home. But for only one person?�� She holds her arms wide and motions at the four walls while turning about in the middle of the floor. ��Remmi, this would be comfortable for a small family!��


    I give Ayre my best Gary Coleman side-eye. ��How big a small family?��


    Ayre stalls a bit at that, looking around the interior again. ��Um ... with walls? And not shared with storage? Not that there��s a lot of that ... A couple and a child, maybe?��


    I take a turn at measuring the space with my eyes again, too, then roll them. ��I dunno, Ayre, I think we��re going to have to agree to disagree. Could a family of three live in here? Sure, but I can��t imagine calling it comfortable. Two people, tops. And that��s not exactly spacious. It wouldn��t even have a living room!��


    Ayre follows me over to the pantry as I begin moving the supplies we picked up from my pack to the shelves and barrels. ��Remmi, your temporary storage shelter has its own bath!��


    ��It has a tub,�� I correct as I upturn my backpack to dump all of the potatoes into a barrel, then repeat it for the onions, and again for turnips. Being able to decide what comes out makes this so much easier. ��You��ve still got to get the water and heat it up, yourself. At least until I can learn how to use elemental stones.��


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ��That��s normal out here,�� the elf insists. ��You heard the bath house lady, stones are expensive! And your tub is big enough for two people!��


    I turn on Ayre and hold up a determined finger. ��It is not for two people. It is for one person to recline in!��


    ��Who reclines in a tub?! You sit in it! Put sitting blocks in either end of that thing like a normal person, and you��ve got a miniature bath house in your house!��


    ��Agh!�� I finally just wave my friend off. ��I��m starting to think Imperials just have a fetish for cramming everybody together like sardines! Besides, where I��m from, space isn��t at such a premium that you have to obsess over the usage of every square foot.��


    I finish stowing foodstuffs and toss one shoulder through the backpack straps again before slamming the pantry door shut. ��Come on, we lost most of the day in town. I can show you the shooting range and you can give it a spin while I get a frame together for your bed!��


    * * *


    *Ayre*


    Eccentric.


    If I had to pick a single word with which to describe Remmi, that would be it. She��s obsessed with details, but you��d never know it from the way she flits about from one project to another. Even her absurdly high Agility can��t quite keep up with how quickly her mind moves.


    If it weren��t for the fact that she produces a perfect cut every time or never misses a spot of sealant or plaster, nobody would be able to take her farcical approaches to crafting seriously.


    Her target range is an excellent example of this. Most would suffice with an area of trodden dirt and some scarecrows in mock-armor at varying distances. She mud-bricked the entire thing, level enough to keep a marble from rolling, with a marked-off shooting line and a low wall denoting the boundary.


    She doesn��t even have scarecrows. Instead, she made silhouettes of a man��s head and torso, just flat planes painted with red, circular targets. It��s cold and practical in a way that disturbs me for some reason I can��t place, but when I asked, she simply explained that scarecrows are a fire hazard. Apparently, the rounds come out hot enough that they risk igniting loose, dry grasses.


    There��s always a reason. No matter how bizarrely she goes about something, she always seems to have some sort of ready explanation for it. Somehow, that just makes it weirder.


    The worst part is that she��s not even happy with this. She talks eagerly about capstones for the wall, a thatched canopy to keep sun and rain off of us while we practice, partial walls, windows and other obstacles to simulate targets behind cover, and even tracks to move the targets from side to side to increase the difficulty. She even wants the targets to pop up randomly somehow, and bemoans the difficulty of doing so with her available resources.


    And thanks to her strange Hidden Skill, she��s able to keep talking about all of these improvements she still wants to make even as she��s manhandling a tree into a bed frame and comically shoving the full-sized pieces into her little bag.


    I can��t help but wonder if any level of improvements would ever satisfy her. For someone who so endlessly complains about how much she hates building things, nothing ever seems to be good enough to get her to stop.


    She finishes shoving the last of the ... tree into a pocket plane like it��s as normal as chucking it into the back of a wagon, then glances to me for a moment before digging around in her bag to pull something back out. I lower my bow to turn toward her as she heads my way.


    ��So, what do you think?��


    I glance back over the target range as she sweeps her arm across it. ��Well, it confirmed a suspicion of mine.��


    ��Oh?��


    ��Over-engineering is definitely a your-people problem.��


    Remmi��s face puffs into a pout that makes me giggle. I can tell that I didn��t actually offend her, though. That pout has more of a glare to it than this one does.


    ... Is it okay for a Hero to make faces like Remmi does? Honestly, I still have trouble even thinking of her as a Hero, even having seen it twice over now. Once from her own sheet, and once before that from the Essence, itself.


    I think it��s for the best that she��s like this, though. As far as she is from the loud, boisterous, battle-hungry stereotype, clad in heavy armor and hundreds of pounds of muscle, I never could have been comfortable around someone like that. A figure like that would be too intimidating, and he��d either leave me behind without realizing it or drag me into a fight I wasn��t ready for just because he lacked a sense of scale.


    Oh, Remmi definitely lacks a sense of scale, too, and she��s got an impulsiveness to her that demands action, but she��s aware of it, and she��s willing to pace herself so I can keep up. I��m not just an extra to her.


    I��m a friend.


    ��So, hey, before it gets too dark,�� Remmi asks, still keeping what she pulled from her bag behind her, ��your bow proficiency extends to crossbows, right?��


    I frown in thought of what this might be about. ��Yes. Not all of the skills carry over, and since I��m considered specialized, my proficiency doesn��t count as highly toward them, but I can use them. I don��t like them, though. They��re too slow and reloading them is too much of a hassle.��


    ��And a repeating crossbow would solve those problems, right?��


    My frown deepens, again from confusion. ��Yes, but in exchange for a different set of problems. They��re extremely weak compared to anything in the same size range, and are considered horribly inaccurate. Proficiencies don��t differentiate between them and regular crossbows, though.��


    I widen my eyes as I make a connection. ��Oh! Crossbows handle a lot like your gun, don��t they? Do you mean to say that your proficiency includes them, too?��


    Remmi��s face illuminates into a huge grin as she nods eagerly. ��In fact, I had to use a repeating hand crossbow at the Hero Trials since I didn��t have my pistol!��


    She��s told me about the trials in passing before, but never seemed to want to go into much detail over what happened. Now, I wrinkle my nose, as if having caught a whiff of why.


    ��A repeating hand crossbow?! Remmi, how did you take out anything with that?!��


    Her grin turns impish as she waves a finger. ��Big, glowy weak spots!��


    Ah, right ... Of course, now I can see what��s in her hand. That hand, anyway, and she follows my gaze to what looks like a box magazine for a crossbow ... except it��s upside-down.


    ��You built one, didn��t you?��


    That pout returns. ��Am I that predictable?�� It doesn��t last long, though, as she brings her other hand around with an excited expression, revealing another inverted box and the most bizarre-looking crossbow I��ve ever laid eyes on. ��I was hoping you��d test it for me and share your feedback!��


    I take the proffered weapon into my own hands, but can��t help but comment, ��Remmi, that��s not the face of someone who hates crafting.��


    The pouting scowl springs right back, but I ignore it in favor of examining the crossbow.


    It actually has two bows set opposite each other, yet their strings are partly shared, so that to release one is to draw the other. For a moment, though, I��m not sure they even are bows. My sense of familiarity is thrown off by seemingly too many lines, and the arms each have steel pinwheels at the ends. The arms don��t hold one continuous crescent, either, but independent ones connected to a mounting bar.


    I can see the cut-out underneath where the bolt box is supposed to go, which explains why she built them upside-down. She probably imitated the design of her pistol��s magazines. The reason for going in from underneath seems to have been to free up the top for what it takes me a moment to realize is a sight. Holding it out in front of me, I can look through the simple square to see a red point held perfectly in the center of it by three strings, two of them seemingly adjustable with small wing nuts.


    Everything else appears surprisingly normal to what I would expect on a repeating crossbow. I can identify the trigger assembly and the ratchet bar, though the grip is more pronounced than the normal design. It doesn��t take much to realize it��s the same sort of elongated grip as Remmi��s pistol. Bow limbs not withstanding, the weapons are roughly the same size, so I suppose it makes sense she��d design it to be held the same way.


    Along the side of the frame, written in Imperial Common, are just two words. Noodle Spitter.


    I look back to her and sigh at the pleading puppy face she probably has no idea she��s making.


    ��You��re going to have to go over the basic operations with me.��

 Chapter 45 - Crops

    Chapter 45


    Crops


    TURBO SEED BULLETS


    Nutrition is important for a growing Hero! Especially when it��s magical!


    But you��re a Hero! Your day is packed full of saving rabbits from trees and making giant monsters explode! You don��t have time for farming!


    Not to worry! With Heavenly Produce?? Seed Pellets, you can turn your hand cannon into a high-speed planter! Not only do our easy-to-plant, easy-to-grow starters come in any variety you can imagine, but the Turbo variant guarantees quicker growth with our patented nitrogen-rich hyper-fertilizer!


    Reap the benefits of reaping fresh vegetables, including clearer skin, more energy, better sleep and point multipliers, faster than you ever thought possible! Buy today and stop wasting valuable Hero time watching grass grow!


    It��s been just over a week since I saw that ad while scrolling through my point shop. Again, the suspicion that the System was monitoring me close enough to know my thoughts had returned to the surface, as I��d been thinking earlier that very day about how handy it��d be if we had our own crops.


    ... Not to mention, the very specific references make it feel exceedingly unlikely that the entry existed before Ayre and I did the Iron-rank mission.


    Still, like every other custom offer from the System shop, it was too good to pass up on, and I had the soil turned for a sizable garden that afternoon. I fenced it off with simple stakes and rope and had a talk with Kyuuga since I figured he��d be the big threat to the project.


    When I explained how it was important to not eat the plants inside the boundary so they could grow to produce even better food, I knew I had his attention. In fact, I feel bad for any other animals he catches trying to sneak in there.


    The bullets, themselves, are the first ones I��ve encountered with their own submenu. I can set each individual bullet to be a different plant, or keep going as they retain the last one I set. I can only assume the contained seed capsule is held in some sort of quantum state until fired. It would make more sense than physically swapping seeds out every time I toggled the setting.


    As for what seeds are on the menu, it really does seem to be anything I can think of. Even things that don��t fit the climate are available, but we��ll see how they grow. Most of what I picked shouldn��t have issues one way or the other, though.


    Mostly, I focused on the essentials: Tomatoes, corn, peppers, herbs and such. Things that don��t seem known to the Empire. We already have potatoes and onions, but we use enough that, if these really do offer extra benefits, we might as well be getting them, too. I had some spare rounds, so I even tried things like a lemon tree and sugar cane. One of the experiments is something I��m very excited about, however.


    I planted coffee bushes.


    I had been worried I��d have to choose a specific variety, but the System had its own it highly recommended: Essence Arabica.


    I thought I wouldn��t be able to wait until they were ready, but the System hadn��t been lying when it said this stuff would grow fast. Instead, I spent the last few days running around to make sure I was ready, most notably getting a rotisserie barrel for my fireplace.


    As we are separating the seeds from the cherries, I explain the roasting process to Ayre, who asks if I have the Cooking skill since I know so much about it. That it never really occurred to me to get it surprises me, and I go to grab it.


    ��I ... can��t select it?��


    Ayre looks up from the pot of coffee cherry husks in surprise. ��You can��t? Are you restricted or something?��


    I shake my head. ��I don��t think so. After you mentioned transitive alchemy, I looked into getting that, and the System straight up said that I wasn��t allowed because of my background. There��s no message like that for Cooking, just nothing happens when I try to pick it.��


    The elf��s brows furrow. ��Wait, your background keeps you from taking alchemy? How?! You said your people don��t even have magic.��


    I can only shrug. ��Apparently, I��m barred because I understand nuclear physics.��


    Now, it��s Ayre��s turn to give a shake of the head. ��Yeah, that means nothing here.��


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    The archer��s eyes widen with the light of an idea, and Ayre holds up an index finger. ��Oh! Just because you can buy skills directly, that doesn��t mean you can��t still earn them the regular way, right? You��ve done so much cooking since you��ve come here, are you sure you don��t already have it?��


    With a thoughtful frown, I navigate out of the store and back to my own information. Like the store, I have a separate tab for general skills, but I��ve almost never paid them any mind once I bought them.


    ... Wow, I really do have a lot. And ...


    ��Oh, yeah, there��s definitely skills here I��ve never purchased,�� I confirm. ��Not many, but I don��t remember taking Line Fishing. Oh, there it is! Cooking! I do have it!��


    Ayre beams a bright, celebratory smile at the news. ��That explains why you were able to do so much with our porridge when we made camp!��


    My smile is a bit more embarrassed as I resist the urge to rub the back of my head, what with the berry goop all over my hands. ��Ah, it still could have used some milk and sugar, but we didn��t have any ...��


    ��Did you do a lot of cooking back home?��


    I consider the question as we continue pitting the cherries. ��I guess so? That��s kind of a hard metric to gauge. I didn��t do it professionally, or anything. Mostly, it was a cost-saving measure. Raw foods usually last longer, so there��s less waste, and making food for yourself is cheaper and healthier than getting it already made.��


    Ayre looks confused at this. ��Are you saying that cooking at home isn��t normal for your people?��


    I give a wiggly hand in reply. ��Not when you��re living alone. You don��t have the time.��


    I don��t realize I��ve said something wrong until Ayre gasps. Those ears drop down and those big eyes grow watery.


    ��Oh, gosh, I��m so sorry, Remmi, I didn��t know.��


    I give my friend a bewildered look back. ��... I think we just had a miscommunication.��


    ��... You aren��t an orphan?��


    I stare in silence for a moment as I process that. And then it hits me. I��m fifteen. Sure, it seems normal enough for someone my age to be out on their own, but I was talking like I��d been doing it for years. Mostly because I had. Because I��m not fifteen.


    ��Oh, no, no, no, no, no!�� I insist quickly. ��Nope, both parents alive and well, last time I checked! Sister, too! But my mother made sure to teach us both lots of recipes to help make ends meet should we need them.��


    And they saved my life at university.


    ��Oh ...�� Ayre looks down into the cherry pot for a moment. ��... Well, now, I just feel embarrassed.��


    ��Don��t be!�� I insist. ��I��m glad you thought to comfort me!��


    I finish the last of my cherries and begin to look around for a towel to wipe my hands on before remembering that I don��t need to spread my mess around. Snapping my fingers is completely unnecessary for casting Cleanse, but I do it, anyway.


    At least I don��t wiggle my nose.


    ��How��s your pits coming along, Ayre?��


    ��Almost done, just a handful more,�� comes the reply. ��You talked about roasting the seeds, but what about all of the fruit? Are you going to make a jam out of it?��


    I look back at the perhaps gallon worth of pulp we have between our two pots as if seeing new potential at those words. ��... You know, I��ll bet I could ... The sugar cane is about ready, too, I could use it and some lemon juice, some other seasonings ... And I saw jam setter at the general store.��


    Ayre stares back at me. ��If you��re only just now thinking of jam, what were you going to do with it before?��


    ��I was going to make cascara. I��m sure I still can, we��ve got plenty.��


    But the elf frowns. ��Sorry, Remmi, that didn��t translate.��


    I wave the issue off. ��It��s just the name of an infusion tea made from coffee cherries. I��ll press them, dry them out, throw in some cinnamon and ginger, it��s good stuff.�� I grin back at the elf. ��You��ll probably actually like it, too. I��ve never gotten to try it, but I��ve heard it��s sweet and fruity!��


    The way Ayre��s ears perk up at that makes me chuckle. I��m not at all surprised that my elf has a sweet tooth.


    I pick up my beans and make my way over to the sink, followed shortly by Ayre. ��Once we get the pulp cleaned off, we can start roasting these. Keep this up, Ayre, and maybe you��ll get the Cooking skill, too!��


    My teasing is instantly rewarded by a panicked expression filling Ayre��s face. ��Oh, I hope not,�� the elf whines. ��I need those points for training, and you already have me learning Wilderness Survival!��


    ��Oh, come on, it��s a great skill that makes life easier,�� I insist back. ��Besides, everyone likes a good cook!��


    ��They do?��


    ��Yeah!�� I try to shove the image of Ayre in a cooking apron out of my head. ��And you��re already skinning your catches for the furs. Wouldn��t it be nice to be able to turn the meat into a nice, savory rotisserie for dinner?��


    That bottom lip comes out, though. ��Can��t I just leave that to you?��


    I grin. ��One adventure with me and you don��t wanna go solo again, huh?�� I throw an arm around Ayre��s shoulders. ��I feel the same way about you, Ayre! Let��s stay in the same party forever!��


    Ayre flubs and flusters for a bit, torn between protesting that wasn��t what he meant and sounding like it��s not what he wants, so I release the elf after a quick half-hug and finish cleaning the pulp off of the coffee beans.


    The reason why I explained the roasting steps to Ayre ahead of time is because it��s like popping popcorn without a timer - you��ve got to do it by ear. There��s two separate pops you have to listen for over the clanking of the beans as you keep them moving. After the second one, you��ve really got to watch it close. Another minute, maybe, then you have to hurry to pull the beans and get them cooled down.


    Even after that, of course, it��s still not done. You have to get all of the chaff disposed of, and then the beans have to degas overnight, venting their carbon dioxide for twelve hours. I��ve known the general steps, as this was a project I long wanted to do even back home, but I have to admit, it��s a bit labor-intensive.


    But the next day, we grind the beans for the first two cups, as I insist Ayre has to try it, too. Even if the archer doesn��t care for coffee, the ceremonial first cup must be taken.


    I lift that steaming cup of nigh-black liquid up under my nose and inhale. It��s an earthy, semi-nutty aroma that seems to have a ghost of bittersweet chocolate to it.


    Ayre and I toast and bring the cups to our lips, the fluid passes over our tongues and runs down our throats ...


    And both of our eyes shoot wide.

 Chapter 46 - Zoom

    Chapter 46


    Zoom


    Ayre and I dash straight through town. In fact, we dash from the estate to the town. We sprint all of the way from the estate to the guild hall without so much as a pause.


    We know what we must do. The coffee demands it.


    "Zeiya!"


    I''m shouting for the redheaded bartender before I''m even all of the way through the front door. I look around quickly, lock onto my target, and charge.


    "Zeiya, you''ve got to try this!"


    The retired Platinum-rank adventurer balks as we bull right up to her bar, patrons scattering to give us clearance. "Yellow, if you''re going to come blowing into the guild like this, there''d better be a fucking dragon on your ass."


    "Oh, no, it''s way better than a dragon!"


    The redhead is staring at my gigawatt grin like it''s a metric of my sanity. "Dragons are never a good thing, kid."


    "But it is better!"


    When Ayre backs me up, Zeiya looks between us both with growing suspicion.


    "... How many cups of coffee have you two had?"


    "Just one!" I plop the latch-lid jar of roasted beans onto the bar in front of her. "You''ve got to try it! It''s called Essence Arabica!"


    She glances between us both again as Ayre eagerly nods in agreement, fists balled up earnestly in front of his chest. Finally, she focuses back to me.


    "Yellow, did you say Essence?"


    "Exactly that Essence," I insist, not bothering to elaborate that I literally am incapable of misspeaking in that regard, since my words are being translated based on intent. Instead, I pop the jar open under her nose.


    It has the desired effect immediately as her eyes go wide and she leans in for a closer smell. "Yellow, did you roast these, yourself?"


    "Over an open fire with a rotisserie barrel!" But I''m far too impatient to go through all the details now. I shove the jar toward her. "Come on, come on! Make a cup! Try it!"


    "For Essence''s sake, Zeiya," a nearby man half-jests, "make a cup before the kid''s head explodes, already!"


    "If it''s doing this to them, I''m more worried about my head," she grumbles, but takes the beans and begins the process of preparing a cup''s worth.


    Toleste doesn''t have vacuum-sealing technology, so they don''t keep ground coffee or make whole pots at a time. Instead, they keep the beans whole to better preserve them in airtight containers and grind the cup fresh when ordered, or in small batches. That they''re a semi-precious luxury item makes it all the more essential to ensure as little goes to waste as possible.


    This is to say that Zeiya is well-accustomed to the steps she moves through with practiced ease. The water is already heated for all of the other beverages that need it, so she runs a measured scoop of the beans through a grinder and into a filter. The filter sits within a wire frame that holds it above the cup, and the paper''s conical shape directs the fluid into the cup below.


    Ayre and I are definitely the most obviously staring, both of us the nearest to being in her personal space as possible without actually crossing the counter. Everyone in the canteen, however, is watching with rapt attention as Zeiya brings that steaming cup tentatively up to her lips.


    And the Rubicon is crossed, and the woman��s eyes shoot wide. The next instant, her high-level physique allows her to chug the steaming hot beverage, and she doesn��t stop until she��s slurping at the dregs. Only then does the mug hit the counter.


    Her eyes are still as wide as saucers.


    ��Holy shit.��


    I point at her reaction with a giggle. ��Right?!��


    She immediately points to one man toward the edge, an older one with a gold badge. ��Get the guildmaster! Now!�� When he doesn��t immediately start moving, she chucks the mug, it sailing within a hair��s breadth of his ear to shatter behind him. ��MOVE IT!��


    ��Y-yes, ma��am!��


    As soon as he takes off, everyone else starts crowding near, bombarding Zeiya with questions. Is it safe? Can they get a cup? Is it any good?


    She ignores them all and turns her eyes back on us once more. ��Yellow, do you have any idea what the fuck you��ve done?��


    I��m starting to wonder if I��m in trouble, but I try for a sheepish grin and shrug. ��Revolutionize the adventurer culinary industry?��


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    ��And only!�� She leans over the counter until we��re nearly face to face. ��Have you told anyone else where you got those beans?��


    ��Only Ayre,�� I answer, motioning to the elf.


    ��I was there!��


    The redhead takes that in with a slow nod, then speaks more quietly. ��So what were they? Dungeon drops? Did they grow there?�� She turns away slightly. ��No, couldn��t be. They��d be called Arcana or something, not Essence.��


    I frown, knowing I��m about to disappoint her. ��Um, if you��re looking to send harvesters, that��s �� not necessary. And probably wouldn��t work.��


    She must be catching on to where this is going, because she gives me a sharp look and pulls away slowly. ��Yellow ����


    ��They came out of my garden.��


    She��s like a marionette whose strings are suddenly cut, and it seems only her hand, propped by her elbow on the counter, catches her by the forehead as she collapses down upon it. ��Fuck ����


    ���� Is that bad?��


    But the woman shakes her head. ��Bad? Shit, Yellow, by this time next year, you��re going to be richer than the Empress.�� She raises her head as a light of realization fills her eyes. ���� You just paid for your castle, you thrice-blessed little bitch.��


    I would be much more worried if it sounded like she meant any of those nastier words.


    ��Well, it��s not that amazing,�� I insist, ignoring her growing look of indignation. ��It only lasts for about an hour, and when it fades out, it��s replaced by two stages of Caffeine Overdose. Which probably stack, so no drinking it back to back.��


    Zeiya wrinkles her nose and raises an eyebrow. ��How many stages does that condition have?!��


    ��Just the four,�� I reply. ��After that, you die by heart attack.��


    I can see the reflexive swallow move down her throat, but she admirably doesn��t let it reach her face. ��Still, an hour of these stat boosts? That��s more than enough for an adventurer. And even a laborer can get a lot done in an hour when they can��t get tired. And is it really giving me over a hundred fifty Agility?!��


    My eyes widen at the sudden glimpse into her stats. ��No, it��s giving you twenty-five percent!�� I grin and wink as I give her a thumbs up. ��Still, Zeiya, over six hundred base Agility? Nice! Are you sure your adventuring days are over?��


    She realizes what she��s given away and frowns as she crosses her arms. ��I��ll let you off the hook for that one, but no more freebies! A girl��s stats are a closely-guarded private matter, Yellow!��


    My grin turns apologetic. ��I won��t tell, promise!��


    ��Uh-huh. Like you didn��t tell about the Empress��s stats.��


    ��I didn��t!��


    The great bear I know as Kobi comes from the back halls with the man Zeiya chased away, and he begins to wade through the crowd like they��re pups to be pushed aside with his foot.


    ��Clear back, you lot, clear back!�� he shouts. Though shouting might be a poor choice of words, since it��s more like a roar.


    Half the people in his path clear out of it long before he has to reach for them.


    When he finally reaches the counter, I notice Zeiya is already preparing another cup of Essence Arabica. I��m not sure Kobi has picked up on it, though, or he doesn��t understand the significance.


    ��What��s the meaning of this, Zeiya? It��s not like you to send people running for me in fear���� The cup clicks down in front of him, and he stares down at it in confusion. ����of their lives �� What is this?��


    Zeiya glances back to me for a moment before stealing my words, but it��s a quick glance, barely noticeable. ��Revolutionary, if the grower is to be believed. It��s a new variety of coffee bean.��


    He clearly isn��t buying it. He picks the cup up to better examine it. ��You called me out here with the urgency of an attack on the city �� for coffee?! What��s gotten into you?��


    ��The coffee.�� Maybe it��s because she��s older or because her level is so high, but it seems like Zeiya really is handling herself well despite how hard it must be just to stay still.


    Kobi frowns again, gives it a sniff like a wary animal �� then, in what I am certain is the most alpha move I have ever witnessed at a bar, throws the whole mug back in one go. He doesn��t even chug it, just lifts it above his head and pours the whole thing into his mouth.


    It��s gone in a single swallow.


    His transmogrification is terrifying. His eyes widen so much I can see the veins as he begins to growl. His grip on the mug tightens until the ceramic shatters and he��s left holding only a fist.


    ���� Is he oka���� I start.


    His fist slams against the counter, causing a splintering web of cracks in its granite surface as he all but roars into Zeiya��s face. ��WHAT IS THIS?!��


    The bartender is completely unfazed. ��Essence Arabica, apparently,�� she replies at a far more normal volume. And then she tips her head toward me without looking at me. ��Yellow grew it.��


    When the guildmaster turns his attention on me, the only reason I don��t jump and hide behind Ayre is because the archer already beat me to it, cowering behind me and staring at the massive, gray bear over my shoulder.


    He just keeps staring at me, growling at me, clenching the fist like he��s trying to get microscopic ceramic shards out of it. Finally, his other hand points aggressively at me.


    ��Effects! Negative and positive! Do you know them?!��


    Without thinking of anything but self-preservation, I��m rattling them off before I can even consider whether I should or not. ��Unlimited stamina and a one-quarter boost to Agility for an hour! After that, it fades to two stages of Caffeine Overdose!��


    ��And you tested this, yourself?!��


    ��I didn��t have to,�� I insist, only for him to growl deeper and lean toward me, so I quickly explain. ��Its Item Window told me! I can cast Identify Level 2!��


    He growls again, but pulls back. The guildmaster stalks back and forth for a bit, everyone giving him a wide berth. Everyone but me and Ayre. I don��t feel allowed to move.


    Finally, he points at me again. ��You��re a registered member of the guild! You will be receiving a deployment contract for the guild to handle the sale of this Essence Arabica. Is that clear?��


    I wrinkle my nose. ���� Are you allowed to do that? Just force me to sell it?��


    I worry I might have overstepped my bounds when I feel Ayre step away from me and the guildmaster starts growling again.


    ��Words, Guildmaster,�� Zeiya puts in. ��I know you��re overflowing with energy in those dusty old bones, but try to remember to use your words.�� Then, to me, ��And yes, Yellow, he does. The Exploration Service Guild operates in tandem with the Imperial Government. In interests of national security, the old bear can even order around a landed noble!��


    I frown, dipping my head a bit. That��s offensive, but if that��s the law, then that��s the law. I can absolutely see how something like this, if it really is unique, could be a security risk. Without a vetted middle man, a foreign power could buy up all of the available stock and monopolize the powerful bonuses.


    ��Okay, I get it. I��ll take a look at the contract. But the rest of the stuff, I��m keeping����


    Before I can make the mistake in protest, the doors to the guild interrupt me as they��re thrown open even more dramatically than at mine and Ayre��s own entrance. Since I quickly realize what I was about to do, I would normally be grateful for the save.


    But only dread fills me as I recognize the robed silhouette and the voice that bellows even greater than Guildmaster Kobi��s.


    ��REMMI LEE!!!��

 Chapter 47 - Priestess

    Chapter 47


    Priestess


    Kobi storms toward the elven priestess standing in the doorway.


    "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, MAKING A RACKET IN MY��"


    But Yorin just holds one hand toward him, touching his forehead the moment her first two fingers could do so.


    "Purge."


    The old man slumps as the spell strips all status effects from his mind and body, and the white-haired priestess steps past him as if any business with him is concluded.


    After all, she''s already set her eyes on her prey. "Remmi," Yorin repeats my name as she steps toward us. "What did you do?"


    I have to admit, I''m offended that she just assumes I''ve done something wrong.


    "Huh, so it''s true, you really are paired with that girl''s elf, Yellow."


    I turn to Zeiya, delighted to have an excuse not to answer Yorin, and open my mouth to reply ...


    "Remmi Lee." Yorin doesn''t bother repeating her question. She only reminds me of her impatience for an answer.


    So I wheel back on her with an expression I''m sure is full of my fury and frustration and absolutely isn''t petulant and pouty. "I didn''t do anything, Yorin! I roasted coffee! I had one cup! Just like I promised!"


    Her eyes flick to the container on the counter, and she steps past me now, too, to pick it up. "And shared it, I see." She turns it about under her gaze, gives the open container a sniff. Finally, she turns back to me and gestures with it. "Is there more?"


    Now she''s just confusing me. Is she really upset about magic beans in a fantasy world?! "Of course," I answer. Usually, Yorin doesn''t ask such silly questions.


    "Did you buy general skills for it?"


    "I planted seeds in the ground," I argue back. "I watered them, I weeded them, I harvested them! It''s not rocket science!"


    "You are supposed to be training for the dungeon."


    "I have been," I insist. "How long do you think I''m spending on a little garden?! It''s just supplemental stuff to save on time and money so we''re not wasting all of it running everywhere just to get something to eat!"


    She holds the jar like it''s murder evidence. "Remmi, do you know how long it takes coffee plants to grow from seeds to producing berries of their own?"


    I cross my arms. I can see where this is going, but I''m not backing down. I''m not doing anything wrong! "Three to five years," I answer readily.


    "You have been here a month and a half, Remmi. Where did you get this coffee?"


    "From my garden!"


    "When did you plant it?"


    "Last week!"


    Yorin sets the jar down with what I feel is admirable self-control. The beans barely jostle. "You say you planted these last week, yet you know they take years to produce fruit. Did you use magic to accelerate their growth?"


    I frown and twist my nose a little. "Not my magic, and not arcana. The essence did it!"


    Yorin looks down at the jar and runs a finger around its rim. Her expression is still so controlled. "If this is a creation of Essence, this may be classifiable as a heavenly artifact."


    "It''s a can of beans," I finally shout in frustration. "Why is everyone so determined to take my food?!"


    Yorin''s eyes snap to me at that, and I finally see that control slip a bit. She''s shocked at my outburst. Is she not aware of how she was coming across?


    Then she lowers her head and gives a sigh I recognize as apologetic. "It is not my intention to take from you your foodstuffs. A supplemental garden is a good idea, though I hope you planned the rest with a shorter growth pattern."


    "Then why are you laying siege to the guild hall to get to me?!"


    Now, its her eyes that are apologetic, but she turns to Zeiya. "Excuse us, I think we should take this to a private table. Could I get a green tea with mint, please. And a warm milk for Remmi."


    The redhead just sighs with a shrug. "Sure, crazy lady." She puts her hand on the jar and slides it away from the customer side of the counter. "Beans stay with me as a neutral party for now, though. Just in case."


    Considering how Zeiya confided before that Yorin scared her, I can only appreciate her sticking her neck out for me like this. Before anything can come of the act, however, the other customers start getting excited at the implication.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    An implication she quickly cuts short. "Tamp it down, you boars," she shouts over them immediately. "It''ll be for sale when, and if, something gets decided, and not a moment sooner! And anyone who''s already had anything that gives Caffeine Overdose isn''t getting any either way!"


    I use the opportunity to point out a small, open table to Yorin in the hopes she''ll drop the matter, and she does so.


    "It is good that you already have loyal friends within the guild, Remmi," she says as we sit down. "You seem to have a natural talent for making them."


    "Yeah, Zeiya''s cool," I agree. "Dina, too. A lot of them are, actually. I feel like I can go up and ask any of them for advice."


    I pause as I remember I wanted to do exactly that. "Actually, maybe I should take time to do that before I leave today. I''ve been wanting to pick Zeiya''s brain about skills now that it''s known I''m a Hero and can buy them."


    "You sound like you have something specific in mind."


    I nod. "Because my Intellect is so high, I have a lot of mana that just ends up sitting there, so I''ve been trying to think of ways to use it. I picked up a healing spell, but it''s too slow to be much use in combat, and seems like it uses way too much energy besides."


    Yorin nods in agreement. "You do not possess the class for it. A Priest''s passive skills increase the power of healing magic, and most mages get cost and chant reduction, as well. Such skills make combat use much more practical."


    She crosses her arms with a sigh. "Of course, as a Hero, you could simply purchase such skills, yourself, but I would advise against it."


    "... Because imperial culture hates generalists?" I venture.


    "Because you are the Gunslinger Hero," she immediately corrects me. "Some flexibility serves your style very well, I have come to accept that. You should remember, however, that there is already a Priest-type Hero in the theurgist girl, Miss Bibe. If the System wanted a second, it wouldn''t have chosen you."


    Yorin leans forward and puts a hand over mine on the table. "Remmi, the reason why I panic so when you go ..."


    She spends a moment fishing for the word. "... How did you put it? Lumberjack? It is not because I do not wish for you to find your own way in this world. It is because you were Essence-blessed specifically because that very same world needs you.


    "If you lose sight of what brought you here, you risk your very life. And, Essence forgive me, it is not merely the fate of the world that worries me at such a possibility. When you went sprinting right by the temple grounds without stopping, I feared you were up to something dangerous. Again."


    She''s scared for me, I realize. Was that it? All the scolding, is it just how she reacts to freaking out? Trying to fix the problem that''s disturbing her?


    I dip my head to hide the flushing of my cheeks. "I ... understand, Yorin. I promise I do. And I know I get excited and go off on tangents easily, but I promise I''m keeping my end goal in mind. And I think you''ll be pleased with what I''ve got in mind."


    She arches a fine eyebrow at that. "Oh?"


    But I grin, looking to the side this time, and for a different reason. "Oh, and I think we should let the guild sell the beans. They''re supposed to make sure it doesn''t get into bad hands, right? Those plants are going to produce way more than I can keep up with, anyway. They might as well fund us, right?"


    The way her face goes blank before shifting to her motherly smile tells me I scored an annoying blow. "Very well, I will work with Guildmaster Kobi to come to an arrangement, and I look forward to seeing what skills you have in mind in action. Is there other produce I should be discussing with Kobi?"


    I wrinkle my nose and shake my head. "There''s a variety I grew, but I still have a lot of testing to do to figure out how they interact. The raw, off-the-stalk effects are pretty milquetoast, so until I know what they can do, it''d be dangerous to send them off willy-nilly."


    "How milquetoast?"


    "A coffee berry eaten off the stalk just restores a quarter of your maximum stamina, up to your maximum."


    This time, both of her eyebrows go up. "Remmi, you are telling me that stamina potions now literally grow on trees."


    "But when you roast the beans and brew the grounds into a coffee," I argue, "it becomes an infinite stamina potion with a massive Agility spike!"


    "Followed by a deadly withdrawal." She shakes her head once with an exhalation. "That is your biggest flaw, Remmi. You possess no sense of scale. Such could be said of any Hero, to be true, but it is uniquely so of you, for you lack even a worldly frame of reference."


    I frown back at her. "Fine, relatively milquetoast. I''m keeping it in mind, though!"


    Yorin smiles back. "You are," she agrees. "And it soothes my heart to know it." She glances aside to notice Zeiya coming with our drinks and leans back. "I just wanted to make certain of it."


    I take the opportunity of the break in conversation to take note of the room. Most of the regulars seem to be keeping their distance from us, or perhaps, more accurately, from Yorin.


    Kobi is among them, but he''s watching us closely, his massive arms draped across his oak tree chest. Maybe he''s not normally supposed to mess with the sacred priestess, and with his temper no longer riled by caffeine, he''s remembered that.


    It seems like Zeiya has put Ayre to work while she runs orders out to the tables. The flustered elf is behind the counter in a half-panic writing down orders, as apparently every free customer with something to order decided to do it just then. Probably specifically to cause said panic.


    Zeiya exchanges the usual customer pleasantries with Yorin before heading to the next table, and I''m reminded again that the priestess had ordered me a warm milk.


    I eye her over our mugs. "So, uh, what''s with the warm milk, Yorin? You ... trying to send me a message, or something?"


    The priestess takes a sip from her tea before answering, her eyes closed as she''s probably enjoying the aroma. "You seem to know so much of milk, Remmi. Why don''t you tell me?"


    Is she teasing me? It''s possible, but I decide to answer it directly, anyway.


    I tilt my head to one side as I call up the information from my memory. "Well, besides already having melatonin and tryptophan, heating milk breaks down the proteins into peptides that also calm you down. It''s good for if you''re having trouble going to sleep."


    But then I motion to the tea. "Green tea helps lower blood pressure, and mint, stress." My eyes widen in realization. "Oh, gosh, I''m sorry, Yorin. Did I really drive you that crazy just by running through?!"


    But she waves it away. "The matter is resolved, and had a benign enough, if disturbing, cause. Just remember that I am here to be your advisor, Remmi. Let me do my job before you go running off half-strung."


    After another pull on her tea that seems almost as if she is fortifying herself, she gives me that motherly smile and her undivided attention.


    "Now, tell me, Remmi, what else have you been growing up there that you still have to test?"


    I only question telling her for half a heartbeat, and then go full in on detailing all of the different effects I''ve found so far and the combinations I''m eager to try.


    I''m not sure if Yorin always drinks her tea so fast. Maybe she just really likes the mint. In any case, she gets through it so quickly that she ends up ordering two more before we leave, but she listens to my entire diatribe, smiling and nodding along.

 Chapter 48 - Preparations

    Chapter 48


    Preparations


    Our training has gone well. With Ayre''s feedback and some advice from Dina and Zeiya who insisted on coming out to see the project, I''ve built a passable obstacle course that meets most of the requirements for the archer to spend down points.


    I say passable mostly because it''s not up to my standards. I want randomized targets, motorized movement thereof, and pop-up/drop-down functions. Still, we''ve got some primitive Ninja Warrior type stuff going on, interspersed with targets that can be mounted in different locations. No water pit to catch us, but our superhuman physiques handle landing on the soft grass just as well.


    Whoever is running the course, the other will arrange the targets and then keep track of the run time and how many are successfully hit. The high rate of 100% target elimination from both of us has me thinking I need to make some more changes, but competing for best perfect clear time will have to do. The purpose here isn''t to create a perfect obstacle course, after all.


    The crops have added an entirely new dimension to our preparations, as well. Every one of them have astounding effects that increase powerfully through cooking. Kyuuga''s fried potatoes, onions and potted meat became Essence Fried Potatoes and Onions with Meat, and increases Toughness and Disease Resistance, while also giving a bonus to point gain for an hour after eating it.


    Ever since the discovery, showing an actual understanding of the concept of points to some degree, Kyuuga has insisted on training with us. He''s actually got the best clear time of all three of us. That rabbit is fast, and entirely too aware of it, the braggart. Always stops as soon as the hour''s up, though.


    All of the plants grew so quickly, too. Even the apples finished in two weeks. And the sugar came up, too, despite the poor conditions for it. In fact, it grew so quickly and so well that I took the time to actually prepare ground for it and grew a second batch.


    This second batch grew even faster, even thicker, and with even better bonuses, prompting me to take a second look at the conditions of the rest of the plants. Most of those were pretty forgiving, though, and I had already done things like making sure the root vegetables were in soil mixed with sand to keep it loose enough for them to grow. I sold the first batch of sugar cane to Zeiya as a "botched" crop, much to her delight.


    In the midst of all of this testing, we also confirmed that time doesn''t seem to pass in my storage pocket once it''s closed, or at least it''s drastically slowed down. This has allowed me to make plenty of fresh food and store it inside for the trip to the dungeon. No iron rations for us!


    Of course, I''m still picking sturdy, carb-rich foods for energy and nutrients, especially things that recover our hit points. One such item I''m holding as a surprise is actually thanks to the sugar and apples both being ready and in such abundance.


    ... Yes, I made caramel apples, and I can''t wait to see Ayre''s reaction to them! I already shared them with Yorin when I identified their effects, and I swear she would have given me another lecture if her mouth wasn''t full of sweet and tart goodness.


    One Essence Candy Apple fully restores health and mana, and gives a quarter boost to both, making them great for mages and warriors alike! And since they''re on sticks, they''re easily eaten with one hand.


    Yorin had expressed confusion over the properties, however. Apparently, sugar, though a luxury good, is well known for its mana-restorative properties, and mana potions commonly use a diluted simple syrup as a base.


    "But why does it heal injuries?"


    That hadn''t been a question I had been expecting, so I''d given a little laugh and gave the first explanation that came to mind. "Oh, you know, they say an apple a day keeps the healer away!"


    My joke had gotten me a flat stare. "Remmi, no one says that."


    Ah well.


    I got that help from Zeiya with choosing a new skill, too. What I really wanted was that chi-do monk ability to burn mana and multiply stats, but even my ability to buy stuff is limited to only what a non-class person could learn through study, provided the knowledge exists.


    Kaido''s skill, apparently called God''s Fist, is unique to his class, however, which means it''s not even on the market. Zeiya was able to recommend a lesser equivalent spell, though.


    <hr>


    EMPOWER


    ----------------------------------


    Increases Strength, Toughness and


    Agility by 50% while active.


    Health remains calculated by stats


    prior to activation.


    Casting Cost: 10/sec


    <hr>


    I could immediately see why she said nobody bothers to take it, though. The cost is way too high for most warrior-types to be able to maintain it for any meaningful length of time, and since it doesn''t increase Intellect, there''s better ways for mages to be spending that mana.


    Even for me, that was only twenty seconds of time. Fortunately, I''m a cheater, and I took what Yorin told me and grabbed a cost reduction mage skill that cut the burn in half. I was tempted to cut it again, but the cost for the next rank up is exponentially higher.


    It''s still only forty seconds, but that''s more than enough time to pull clutch. I can probably extend it further by pulsing it on and off only when I need to act, too. And since it''s percentile-based, it''ll only get stronger as I do.


    Of course, the second skill I made sure to pick up means that I probably won''t have the full forty seconds, anyway, not if I''m going full bore. It also took more work, because I had to convince Ayre to teach it to me.


    <hr>


    SPIRAL SHOT


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Once activated, the next


    ranged attack and all


    ranged attacks for the


    next second afterward gain


    the following bonuses:


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    * 200% Armor Penetration


    * 125% Damage Increase


    Casting Cost: 10 MP


    <hr>


    Those buffs are nothing to sneeze at, and are absolutely worth the work I put in to build a compound bow for Ayre. I wasn''t about to try to compete with the level of craftsmanship of whoever made the last one, so I opted for advancements in engineering.


    I had to explain exactly how it all worked to Ayre before the archer agreed, but basically, his recurve bow has a draw weight of somewhere over two hundred pounds. I was staggered when I learned this (we exchanged metrics over a bucket of water), but assured my friend that the cam system would increase the performance of the weapon by at least half at the same draw weight.


    With the promise of such an increase in potency, Ayre agreed to the deal, but insisted on teaching me the way he had learned, rather than just giving me the name and allowing me to buy it from the System. Though I did still have to buy Arcane Knowledge just to follow what the elf was saying.


    When I finally mastered it, I tackled Ayre in my excitement, drawing a startled squeal of protest from the elf. With the notification of successfully learning the skill came an additional notification that I had to share with Ayre before my friend understood my exuberance.


    My second earned Trait!


    <hr>


    HEDGE WITCH


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Despite a lack of a mage


    class, you have mastered


    spells from five different


    schools of magic, or two


    different spells from


    three schools.


    Having proven undaunted


    by worldly conventions or


    class restrictions, you


    have earned recognition as


    a mage regardless -


    a Hedge Mage, without the


    shackles and expectations


    of oath or fraternity.


    You receive the following


    bonuses:


    * The multiplier for your


    maximum mana increases


    to 150%. This has no


    effect if your


    multiplier is already


    150% or higher.


    * The power of your spells


    is increased by 50%.


    * The mana cost of all


    spells is reduced by 50%,


    calculated after all


    other reductions.


    <hr>


    This means my mana is now at three hundred points, and the cost of Empower has dropped to a measly 2.5 points per second! Spiral Shot is also down to 2.5 mana per cast, but I''m not sure if that will round up, down, or not at all. Even better, their bonuses have increased, too!


    I do some quick math in my head and determine that would bring my Strength up to 87, my Toughness up to 105, and my Agility up to 175! It''s nowhere near Zeiya''s, but it''s still like jumping seven levels with one spell! For two whole minutes!


    Spiral Shot, too, now triples my penetration. I kind of want to see how many trees I can shoot through with the overpressure rounds now. The smaller damage multiplier is now only an extra third, but I''ll take it!


    Man, if I''d had these skills against the Abomination, I''d have swiss cheesed the thing! And I still haven''t even leveled up since then!


    ... Actually, that''s a bit of a sobering thought. If skills can make this much of a difference, have I been neglecting them too much?


    Maybe, I decide, but I also came into this completely lacking a solid foundation. All of the skills in the world can''t help if they have nothing to build off of. I''ll be able to pursue a more balanced rate of growth from here on out.


    In fact, after this dungeon, won''t I finally be on par with the other Heroes? Well, on par with how they started, anyway. I''m a couple months behind them. I hope they haven''t pulled ahead of me too much! Though it''s not like I''m not surrounded by other powerful people that I can aim for.


    There was actually one other skill Zeiya recommended, but ...


    "Remmi! Are you done packing yet?"


    I turn toward Ayre as the elf interrupts my thoughts. "Yeah, just finishing up!" I make a big show of hefting up the nearly empty backpack. "Oof, so heavy!" I moan dramatically, earning a giggle from the elf.


    We''ve actually got a lot of stuff, since space is no longer an issue. More camping gear, for example, since there''s no need to improvise in order to stay light. A bigger tent, two cots and bedding sets instead of tatami mats and bedrolls ... We even have my very first two creations with elemental stones.


    I befuddled Ayre when I insisted I would create heat with an electric stone instead of a fire one, but I explained that electricity is what my people were most familiar with utilizing, so it''s what I wanted to master first.


    An electric stone seems to generate a consistent current proportional to its size, so I built some simple ceramic resistors to set how much actually gets through, and a simple switch to determine how many were connected at a given time. The current then runs into a flattened metal spring, where the material''s natural resistance causes it to build up heat.


    My first creation is an electric stove, though it doubles as a space heater. I have a larger one planned for my kitchen when the house is finished.


    My second is definitely related to the first, it, too, running current through wires, but it creates a light as it passes through filaments that draws in insects ... and also electrifies the mesh around the bulb. A bug zapper, for Ayre.


    I''m growing more confident in working with the stones, but I definitely feel the limitations of local technology in the process. I''m currently experimenting with simple graphite circuits so I don''t have to hard-wire everything, but without transistors, I''m restricted to bulky mechanical switches.


    For example, my electric burner''s "circuit" is actually a Y-board offset from the main circuit. The switch manually rotates which board segment is in line with the current. There is a high setting with minimal resistors, a low setting with some resistors, and the third breaks the circuit completely to turn it off.


    It works, but I can''t help but be unsatisfied.


    For now, I shoulder my bag and latch the cabin door behind us. Finally, it''s time for my first Tolestean dungeon! I can''t help but practically leap from the porch steps, pumping my fist into the air.


    "Let''s go!"

 Chapter 49 - Forest

    Chapter 49


    Forest


    "Hey, Ayre," I ask the thought that''s been iggling about in my brain as the carriage rolls along, "during the whole coffee fiasco, Zeiya mentioned dungeon drops. Is that really a thing? How does it work?"


    Ayre''s ears flop down and do this sort of vibrating motion as the elf''s bottom lip juts out. "Why do you always ask the tough questions?"


    I, in reply, beam a gigawatt smile across the cabin. "Because I don''t know any better!"


    "Can you at least not act so proud of it?" Ayre sighs, then straightens back up. "Yeah, they happen. They''re kind of rare, though, and I don''t really know how it all works, exactly. The gist as I understand it is that, sometimes, some aspect of the defenses of a dungeon are denser in mana than others. Dense enough that they survive the destruction of the creature to exist independently."


    "And dense enough that it can be removed from the dungeon and used?" I surmise.


    Ayre nods. "Exactly. Don''t get your hopes up, though. It''s usually things like a tooth or a strip of hide. It takes an insane amount of luck for something like a whole weapon to survive. More commonly, our profit is going to come from unique plants or minerals that only form inside of the dungeon environment."


    "Oh, Zeiya mentioned those, too," I recall as I tap my cheek in thought. "She assumed the beans were either drops or that we found a coffee plant inside of a dungeon."


    Again, Ayre nods. "And she rejected it, too, because they were called Essence Arabica. It''s possible for such a thing to happen, though. In fact, I''ve got a list of known herbs and fruits from this dungeon to bring back with us."


    At that, I wrinkle my nose. "I don''t want to go to my first dungeon just to complete more Wood missions!"


    My friend giggles at my objection. "Well, the pay''s way better than the Wood ranks, and are you forgetting that you have a collection ability now? You''ll be able to know what''s around us and just grab it up!"


    My scowl shifts into a more thoughtful frown. "Yeah, I guess that won''t be so bad, since we''re there anyway. What kind of stuff is on that list?"


    Ayre spends the rest of the trip going over the list with me and making sure I have a good idea of what we''re looking out for.


    Eventually, the forest grows too thick for the carriage and we disembark. I pay the coachman we hired to drive us out here. Apparently, the nearest check-in station to Dabun has an entire route taking people out this way and back. It''s not run regularly, or there would be no need for us to come out here, but it''s clearly common enough for the route to be known.


    We could have just rented one of their wagons, too, and they even have offers for supply kits. When they heard all we needed was the driver, they assumed we were independently prepared. They weren''t wrong, but the coachman sure had second thoughts when he found out he was driving a carriage that looks like it belongs to a noble instead of a supply wagon.


    Still, he''ll keep it and the horse in good company while we''re in the dungeon. The coachmen for this run are all at least level 30, so he''ll be able to fend off bandits and beasts alike to protect our supplies ... though the ones we left are mostly for him.


    And if we aren''t out in three days, it''s his job to go back and report that we''ve gone missing.


    Ayre and I bid him good camping and leave the last clearing behind.


    We''re walking for quite a distance through thick underbrush that seems like no one''s ever been through this way before. This doesn''t seem like a path to a known dungeon. And for someone who claimed someone else needed to do the tracking, Ayre always seems to have a firm sense of where he''s going.


    Doubly so now that he actually has Wilderness Survival.


    I finally give in and ask. "So how long before we actually get to the dungeon?"


    Ayre giggles, ears wiggling in amusement. "We''ve been in the dungeon for a while! Didn''t you notice?"


    I frown, trying to recall any moment of transition. "Depends. How long is a while?"


    The elf frowns, too, for the same reason of thought. "Half an hour, maybe? Right about the time we stopped hearing wildlife."


    I nod. "Come to think of it, I have been noticing a weird lack of birdsong. Is the whole dungeon like this? I kind of expected some kind of System notice."


    "Oh, there is one," Ayre confirms. "I may have misspoke a bit when I said we''re in the dungeon. It''s more accurate to say that we''re within its domain. Each dungeon exercises influence a distance beyond its own borders. You can think of it like the entrance hall."


    "This domain, is that the territory it''ll grow into if we don''t cull it?"


    "Exactly."


    I cast my gaze around us. "All I see is trees and underbrush in every direction. How do we find the actual dungeon, then?"


    "Ah, that''s actually the first trial. This particular dungeon tries to confuse people who enter its domain. If you get too far off track, you end up back where you came in, but if you keep walking straight forward, you reach the dungeon."


    "Huh, so we''re literally in the Lost Woods," I muse.


    I prop my arms up behind my head as we walk, and a grin steals over my face. "Though, you know, it''s a proven fact that people don''t walk as straight as they think they do without environmental reference points. One test had someone thinking they were walking in a straight line, and they were actually doing full loops in a gradual drift away from their dominant side. How do you know we''re not heading right back to the carriage right now?"


    Ayre frowns in annoyance at my attempts to psych him out. "Because I have an excellent sense of direction. Also, the mist closes in if you get too far off course."


    "Definitely the Lost Woods."


    Ignoring my meaningless prattle, Ayre glances back to me with a different topic. "Speaking of the carriage, that was the smoothest I''ve ever ridden in. And that wasn''t just because it was a noble-grade carriage, was it? Was that your doing, too?"


    I shrug. "What can I say? I was stuck in that thing for two weeks straight. I had to do something, if only for the sake of my ass."


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    Ayre giggles again at my comment, then points toward an approaching cliff side. "Oh, look, we''ve arrived!"


    The undergrowth clears out in front of the cliff face, and a looming cave entrance rises before us.


    "Eh," I cross my arms dismissively, "impressive, but the build-up doesn''t match the pay-off, and I''m knocking points off for a lack of originality. Six out of ten."


    In stages, as if waiting for me to recant, Ayre glares at me, unhooks her bow, takes it in both hands, and finally whacks me over the head with it.


    I ignore the five points of damage as my just desserts. Instead, I reach up with one hand to rub where the bow struck me as I grin back at her with my tongue poking out of my mouth.


    As we approach the cave mouth, a system pop-up appears in my vision.


    <hr>


    You are entering "Forest Cavern Dungeon"


    Arcana Level: Very High


    Point Multiplier: 200%


    WARNING: This site is contaminated.


    Contamination Level: Minor


    Risk of Contamination: Low


    Contamination levels may rise or spread


    suddenly and without warning.


    Please contact the nearest Purification


    specialist.


    <hr>


    I look to Ayre with concern. "Are you seeing this?"


    The elf nods. "More corruption, maybe? But it still seems really low." I watch those green eyes dart to a different part of the empty air in front of them. "The arcana level is way too high, though. It should be nearly ready to expand, and the guild never lets a dungeon get that high."


    I''ve found that I have an instinctive knowledge of the state of my firearm ever since I recovered it. I know at this very moment that it is fully loaded and that the safety is on, but no round is in the chamber without even having to remember how I left it.


    So without looking at it, I pull it from its holster, flip the safety off and pull the slide to chamber the first round. "Well, I''m glad we did that Iron mission first now. We know what we''re getting into."


    And I step across the threshold into the dungeon proper, Ayre close behind me with bow in hand. The dungeon asked for a Purification specialist, and I''ve already got one of those jobs under my belt.


    The initial tunnel angles downwards, the ground broken up by three or four foot drops before continuing on in what feels like a slow loop. The result is that the bottom of this "stairwell," as I''m coming to think of it, is never quite in sight until the last bend.


    Ayre and I think little of hopping down the short jumps, our path illuminated by glowing crystals sprouting from the walls like clusters of little torches. I wouldn''t call it well-lit, but our eyes quickly adjust with clarity.


    The base of the tunnel opens up into a huge cavern a dozen feet tall. More of those crystal formations provide light here, too, looking like pearlescent quartz. Some of the growths around the edge of the room are nearly the size of cars.


    "Whoa," I intone, in awe at the display the dungeon is putting on for us. "It''s beautiful ..."


    Ayre is similarly enamored. "Are they crystallized mana?"


    "Can we take some with us?"


    But Ayre shakes his head. "A dungeon''s walls are sacrosanct. No known force can break them. Otherwise, a borer would be on every dungeon team. I''m sure the crystals are considered fixtures of their walls."


    "Aw man, I wanted arcanite earrings ..." A flicker of light catches my attention in the corner of my eye, and I turn in time to catch another, then another. I point them out with a childlike glee. "Ayre, look! Will-o-wisps!"


    I''m still watching their light reflect off of the crystals as Ayre comes up next to me. "Why do you know what will-o-wisps are?"


    I reluctantly turn away to frown at her. "Why wouldn''t I? We have will-o-wisps!"


    But that just confuses Ayre more. "You said you don''t have any monsters!"


    That makes me laugh. "Ayre, will-o-wisps aren''t monsters! They''re just lambent condensations of--"


    One of the wisps pass near me for a moment, and as I look, it transforms into a ghostly mirage of a beautiful elven woman that seems to be begging me for help. I blink, and the figure is gone, the orb bobbing away as if nothing transpired.


    "--methane. Okay, nevermind. Your wisps are different. What are we dealing with?"


    "Will-o-wisps lure their victims into danger by posing as torch lights or as spirits in need," she provides, and I nod. That all fits, at least. "Refuse them, and if they grow angry, they resort to low-level fire magic."


    "So are they undead, or are they just illusions or something?"


    "They''re a type of undead, just not what they--"


    That''s all I need to know. I''m already swapping to my new holy rounds. Well, new in that I haven''t used them yet. I guess I technically bought them a month ago.


    Ayre''s explanation is interrupted by a staccato of explosions that rebound off of the cavern walls and hammer back into his delicate ears, driving him to cower and wince as he clamps his hands over them.


    I let my body roll in the blasts like the bass drum of a concert and continue to turn and fire, each shot piercing another sphere as more and more pour out. The report pauses only when I must reload, and I''m down to my last few rounds of holy ammunition before they cease.


    The rolling thunder filling the room takes nearly another minute to fade, which I spend ordering more of those bullets. I don''t get the impression wisps are particularly tough, but if that''s a theme of this dungeon, it can''t hurt to have a stockpile.


    By the time it''s quiet again, I''m tucking the last bit into my belt pockets. "There, that wasn''t so bad," I chime cheerfully.


    Ayre, meanwhile, lunges to his feet to scream, quite squealingly, back at me.


    "STOP DOING THAT!!!"

 Chapter 50 - Waterfall

    Chapter 50


    Waterfall


    I go over and pick up one of half a dozen orbs that clattered to the ground as the wisps perished. It''s about the size of a softball, possesses an embery iridescence, and is ever so slightly warm to the touch.


    "I can''t believe you''re already getting drops," Ayre pouts as the elf picks up another a distance away. "How are you so lucky?"


    "We''re getting drops," I correct my friend. "We''re here as a team, we loot as a team."


    "That doesn''t answer my question."


    I shrug. "Who knows? Heroes have a luck increase as part of the trait, but it doesn''t say how much. As far as I know, nothing else will drop the entire trip!"


    "If this is all we get, we''ll still be ahead of most any other run in treasure. It could be due to how high the arcane energy is, too." Ayre casts a gaze around at the stone walls, barren but for their illuminating crystals. "I''m a bit worried all of our cramming for the plant list may be for nothing, though. Everything we were supposed to find looks like it''s been replaced by these crystals."


    "A last-ditch attempt by the dungeon to vent, maybe. It''s clearly filling up too fast for it to handle." Identify tells me these are Spiritstones, suitable for enchantments. I don''t need them, but if Ayre is right, they''ll fetch a pretty penny. Or a pretty tin.


    I open my bag and hold my hand out before all of the orbs glow and disappear inside of it.


    Ayre stares down at his now-empty hands. "It sounds like you''re saying this dungeon is in really bad shape."


    "It sounds like that''s what we''re both saying," I agree, but stretch my arms above my head. "But the good news is, we can help it! And all we have to do is keep beating it up!"


    I move toward the far end of the room but there are two exits. One looks like it goes down, and I think I can hear a waterfall from it, while the other appears to go upwards.


    "Have you culled this dungeon before, Ayre?"


    The elf gives a shake of the head. "This is my first time here, too."


    "And I don''t suppose the mission came with a map?"


    "I wouldn''t trust it if it did." Ayre crosses arms across the belly with a sigh. "Dungeons can change their layout over time, and who knows how fast one as erratic and overcharged as this one could do it. Do we just pick one?"


    I think about it a little longer. "The first part was a steady descent. It would make sense if the goal was at the lowest level, wouldn''t it?"


    Ayre furrows his brows. "So it''s the waterfall route?"


    "No, it''s the other route that leads to the boss."


    The elf blinks in clear confusion. "But you said we had to go down."


    "I said it would make sense to go down," I correct. "Back home, dungeons are full of dead ends, switch-backs and twists specifically to confuse your sense of direction, many of them deliberately looking like the way to go."


    "So your reason for it not being the way to go is because it gives every indication of being the way to go?" Ayre struggles with the concept. "But what would design something like that?!"


    I shrug again. "You said it, yourself. This place is erratic."


    And then I start down the waterfall path.


    "Wait, but you said that''s not the way to go!"


    "First rule of dungeon diving! Explore everywhere! It''s the only way to get all of the loot!"


    We start heading down the passageway, and I''m quickly vindicated, at least in my own head. The crystals we''re associating with the dungeon''s runaway energy crisis don''t seem to be growing any more numerous in this direction, as I would expect to see as we get closer to wherever, and whatever, its core may be.


    There''s still plenty of them to put on a show when we reach the waterfall, and Ayre and I both pause in awe at the light reflecting off of the current as it splashes into the basin before us.


    After a long moment of pious silence, a single thought manages to bubble up to the surface of my mind.


    "Why does death have to be so beautiful?"


    Ayre wheels on me like I spoke heresy. "Remmi! Why would you say something like that?!"


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    "That''s what we''re looking at, isn''t it?" I counter, motioning toward the crystal-light. "This was probably supposed to be a glade full to bursting with those plants you wanted. Instead, it''s a waterfall in a glowing crystal mine. And it''s because the dungeon is in its death throes to an overflow of corrupted energy."


    The elf gives a deep, slumping sigh, ears falling limp where they''d previously beat in agitation. "You don''t have to ruin the moment by pointing it out." Still, Ayre rallies quickly and casts a more examining gaze across the chamber. "But you were right, it''s definitely a dead end."


    But my brain''s going into RPG mode again, and I''m furrowing my brow in thought. "Yeah, too dead."


    "Not again with the death speak!"


    I shake my head. "No, I mean, there should be something here, even besides the missing glade. This is too short of a stop."


    Ayre frowns back at me. "This is more of that makes too much sense talk, isn''t it?"


    "Yup!"


    It''s about that time that something catches my eye behind the cascading water, and I begin to move about to check different angles. It''s only a moment before I see what I caught, and my face illuminates.


    "Ah-ha! Vindicated again!" I point toward the waterfall. "Look, Ayre! There''s an opening behind the water!"


    That wrinkles Ayre''s nose. "I wonder how many people have just turned away here."


    And I start toward the basin. "Let''s get a little wet and find out what they missed."


    The water is absolutely frigid, and hammers down on us like a thousand pounds, but we push through, utterly drenched, into a passageway beyond. It looks carved out by the water, itself, and a stream of run-off from the basin burbles down its length. There''s just enough damp stone on either side for a single person to stand on.


    "You said a little wet," Ayre complains as we lean against the cold stone wall to catch our breath. "Maybe the reason why nobody came this way ... is because nobody wanted to catch their death ... of pneumonia ..." Even with breaks for breathing, Ayre needs a moment to refill the lungs after all of that talking. "And I swear my robe feels pasted to me ..."


    "Don''t be like that, Ayre ..." I reply just as winded. "I know girls back home ... who would kill for your figure ..."


    "Shut up," he gasps, "and toss me one of those cleanse sprays ..."


    Once we catch our breath, and with the Cleanse magic treating the water soaking us through to the bone as soiling, we start making our way carefully down opposite sides of the tunnel. It ends in another basin, this one with enough of a side for us to step around it, and a grotto only dimly illuminated by crystals.


    "So we''re definitely further away from the core," I muse, "and we''re further down than we''ve been so far."


    Ayre casts a simple Light spell, creating an orb that hovers overhead. I''d have done it, but we found out during training that the brightness of mine was too much for confined spaces.


    "I still say it''s just chance," the elf says. "Your logic for it makes no sense at all."


    "Is that an adventurer''s body?" I ask, moving toward the figure revealed by the light.


    "If so, he''s long dead," Ayre concurs.


    The figure is wearing rusted armor, but the body is suspiciously dry. Still gripped in the decayed hand is a pristine sword, and nearby is a similarly intact backpack.


    I move over to the latter and bend down to it. "Maybe there''s some identification."


    "It''ll be the only way to tell who he was," Ayre answers back, bending over the body. "He''s been beheaded."


    But the moment I open the flap on the backpack, a man''s head topples it over and rolls out onto the ground.


    I won''t lie, I''d like to say I yelp, but that isn''t really what comes out of my mouth.


    "Remmi?!"


    "I''m fine!" I take a moment to catch my breath. "I found his head ... What kind of sick fuck takes the time to put his head into the guy''s pack?!"


    The head hardly settles before it starts to rattle again. It starts rocking back and forth, subtly at first, but more and more as if trying to build up momentum, angling toward ...


    My head spins toward Ayre. "Get away from the body! Get away from it now!"


    I grab for the head, only to jerk away again as it bursts into flames, and Ayre jumps back from the body just as the skull takes off for it.


    The body jerks and jumps up as the now-burning skull hovers above the neck, rattling in silent laughter.


    "Great, more undead."


    I go to draw my pistol, but Ayre holds a hand out toward me. "Please, Remmi! Go easy on your bolts! It''s so painful in an enclosed space when you rattle them off!"


    I nod to my friend as I pull the weapon out. "Alright, I''ll be relying on you for support, then. Let''s take him together!"


    As if in objection to us daring to take it lightly, the body roars as the flames around the skull surge brighter. The blade in its hands ignites in the same soulfire as the skull, and it gives a couple heavy swings to remind us to keep our distance.


    Too bad for him, that''s all we do.


    Ayre opens first with a couple Spiral Shots that punch halfway through the ruined armor. The body staggers, but turns toward the elf.


    I rush in and jab the barrel of my gun into his thigh. Bam, bam, the holy rounds go off and the corpse collapses to a knee, but takes a swipe at me, anyway, forcing me to jump back again.


    I''m mistaken in thinking I crippled it, however. The skull gives its rattling, silent cackle as it hauls its body back up again.


    That''s when it dawns on me.


    "Ayre, the body''s just a puppet! We''re wasting our attacks on it! Aim for the skull!"


    Ayre gasps, too. "That''s right! Aim for the glowing part!"


    I grin, and we raise our weapons again. I fire three holy rounds into the skull, and Ayre pumps another two Spiral Shot arrows into it from the other side.


    It''s like sticking a pot between two wrecking balls. The skull shatters and the body instantly collapses again, the sword extinguishing and clinking to the cavern floor.


    I give a thoughtful swipe of nonexistent sweat from my forehead with my offhand. "Darn, I should have Identified him! Now we have no idea what level he was!"


    Ayre moves to collect what arrows didn''t break. "I''m more worried that this dungeon seems to be turning into an undead theme."


    I give a thoughtful hum at that. "Like the rats."


    Ayre nods in agreement. "I hope they aren''t connected."


    "As if we''re that lucky." I pause. "No, scratch that. That would be lucky, because we''d only be tracking down one source of corruption."


    That makes Ayre pause, too, then the elf nods. "I take it back, I hope they are, too."


    Identify says that the backpack is a Stasis Bag, stopping time and magical timers on anything put inside. Basically, it''s a lesser version of what my storage space gives me, since it''s still limited to the bag''s dimensions. Still, Ayre can get use out of it, or we can sell it when we get out of here. For now, the archer shoulders it.


    The sword, on the other hand, is a Manaburn Katana. It channels the wielder''s mana to power flames of proportional strength. Useless again to the both of us, but definitely worth tin back in Dabun.


    Before then, though, it''ll serve as a nice source of heat to warm up and dry off next to after we pass through the waterfall again ...

 Chapter 51 - Giant

    Chapter 51


    Giant


    We make our way back to the previous chamber and take the upward path. All along the way, we see more and more crystals. It''s little surprise what we see when we reach the next chamber, then.


    Little surprise, but still breathtaking.


    We must be near the dungeon''s core now. Crystals are growing upon crystals are growing upon crystals in this chamber. Crystals are jutting up from the ground like violent stalagmites. Crystals are hanging from crystals from the ceiling, like stalactites that might fall at the slightest provocation.


    "There''s another adventurer." Ayre notices the body first, this one the first dwarf I''ve seen since coming to this world. "And this one still has his head. Pierced through by--"


    KABLAM


    "REMMI!"


    Crystals piercing the skull or no, my vigilance is immediately vindicated by a notice for points as I double-tap the corpse. But the report still hasn''t faded when Ayre''s screech fills the air beside it ... followed by a rumble in the walls.


    Instead of telling Ayre about the zombie, I''m grabbing her by the arm and running for the tunnel we came through. "Back the way we came! It''s coming down!"


    Pieces are already falling, and we started halfway across the chamber. Terrified we''re not going to make it as the rate of collapse increases, I give up dragging the elf alongside me, grab Ayre up in a princess carry and mentally slap the button for Empower.


    Ayre''s scream is barely audible over the crashing of crystal as I take us diving into the tunnel.


    We cover our heads with our backs to the cavern until the crystalline roar subsides. When it finally does and I look to Ayre to apologize for grabbing him up, he''s instead looking into empty space.


    "... I got points for killing half a dozen zombies."


    "Yeah," I confirm. "That one I shot was a zombie, too. They were probably supposed to ambush us."


    At that, Ayre gives a pouting scowl and whacks my chest with the back of his fist. "You have to start warning me before you do something like that! How do you not realize how loud that thing is?!"


    I can''t come up with anything but a shrug. "It just doesn''t bother me. Probably a class feature. Back home, we''d normally use hearing protection, but I haven''t needed it since I''ve been here. Sorry, Ayre, I''ll try to be more mindful. I just didn''t want it jumping up and getting you."


    The elf sighs at that, crossing arms. "How did you even know it was a zombie? It was impaled!"


    "I didn''t," I admit with a roll of my shoulders. "But this dungeon is trying to be undead-themed, and the last corpse we found tried to barbecue us. I figured a little proactivity couldn''t hurt."


    "I''ll admit, it seems to have paid off." Ayre dusts his thighs off - keeping knees together, I note - as he stands. "It left us with another problem, though."


    I turn my attention to the cavern we just made our rapid exit from, as well, now blocked by crystal wreckage. And then an idea occurs to me.


    "Hey, these crystals aren''t part of the structure anymore, right?"


    I go up to the blockage and place my hand against the crystals, but frown as I pull up Identify.


    <hr>


    ARCANE CRYSTAL


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Though known for its luminescent


    beauty, this crystal is contaminated by


    corrupted energies, greatly decreasing


    its value for crafting, enchanting or as


    a precious gem.


    <hr>


    Ayre comes up beside me. "You aren''t still hung up on those earrings, are you? Glowing earrings are kind of kitsch, don''t you think?"


    Well, if Ayre says it, it must be true. There goes that idea. "Actually, I was thinking they''re items now. Items I can collect into an infinite pocket space."


    The archer''s face lights up at that. "Oh, good thinking! And are they?"


    "Yes, but they''re contaminated. I''ll need to purify them first. I don''t want to put whatever the corruption is directly within an essence construct, that sounds bad for everyone."


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    Ayre shares my frown at that and nods in agreement. "Yes, that does sound like a recipe for disaster. Just let me stand clear."


    Once Ayre relocates further back up the tunnel, I turn my attention to the mass of crystals before me. So far, the holy rounds have been effective against everything in here, so I load a fresh magazine of those in.


    "Now here''s hoping I don''t just destroy them all," I mutter.


    An aura of energy erupts around me as I activate Empower again, then another around my gun as I activate Spiral Shot. I have a feeling the penetration will be essential here.


    "Here goes! Purification Cannon!"


    This time, the light is a golden tornado of energy pouring out from the barrel of my gun and drilling into the crystals ahead of me. Their light rapidly escalates in response until all I can do is keep my gun aimed steady, because I can no longer see anything.


    I vaguely hear Ayre calling my name as my attack fades but the light is slower to do so.


    "I might have flash-banged myself," I shout back, unsure if it''s necessary to do so. "I can''t see a thing! Can you?!"


    I can feel more than see Ayre coming up behind me, the elf''s voice much clearer. "Cover your eyes, you idiot! It''s the crystals, you''re just staring at them!"


    I try that, and though I''m still getting serious sun spots, the light decreases substantially. "Oh, thank goodness, I thought I''d gone blind."


    "Blindness would be darkness, Remmi."


    "Right ... You know what I mean ..."


    Gradually, the light of the crystals fades to a new normal. It''s still awfully bright with so many of them, but we can actually make them out again.


    And the description has changed.


    <hr>


    ARCANE CRYSTAL


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    This luminescent gemstone has been


    Purified by the light of a Hero and


    charged to bursting with Holy energy.


    This Purified Holy Arcane Crystal is


    highly valued for crafting and


    enchanting Blessed equipment, and is


    often worn as ornamentation by high-


    ranking members of the priesthood.


    <hr>


    My grin splits my face. "Jackpot!" And the glow brightens again before we''re left in relative darkness as all of the purified crystal gets grabbed by Auto-Loot and shunted into extradimensional storage.


    Immediately, another pop-up appears that makes me grin even more.


    Because I technically just successfully looted more than I can carry, I got the passive skill Strong Back, which doubles my lifting and carrying capacity. Apparently, all of that crystal is worth a whole lot, too, because I got a second passive for collecting over a hundred bars worth of total loot, Keen Eye, which increases my luck at finding more valuable treasure. This system really is too generous.


    And then there''s the third notification.


    "We just dropped the Arcana Level by three ranks?!" Ayre gasps.


    "All that crystal must have represented a substantial amount of the energy it was trying to vent," I reason. "Come on, we must be near the end now."


    The tunnel forward is crowded with razor-sharp crystals, but none are so close as to hinder Ayre and myself. If we actually did have some sort of tank role, it probably would have been a lot harder, but two svelte, nimble dakka gals can slip through without even slowing down.


    We pause halfway through.


    "You hear that?" I ask.


    "Sounds like fighting," Ayre puts in after listening for a moment.


    "So someone is in here. Maybe even the source of the corruption." I pull my pistol from its holster and nod to the archer, who returns the gesture and motions with his bow to show readiness.


    We start forward again and soon enter the largest chamber yet. Easily twice the height of the first cavern, it''s a massive coliseum of a room, pounded flat by the crystal-gilded stone giant that calls it home. There are fewer crystals here, too, likely because of the fight going on between the giant and two intruders.


    I say fight, but it''s more the two humans trying desperately to avoid being pummeled. The older of the two, I want to call him a kid, but the truth is probably that he''s not more than a year or two younger than I am now. He''s got black, messy hair and the angry look on his face I''d expect to see on a tween out to prove something to the universe.


    The other is a girl, surely no older than eight, in what I would call in Earth terms a gothic lolita dress entirely out of place here. Her raven-black hair is in a hime cut and held out of her eyes with a simple hair band. She is clearly the boy''s sister, even if the equal richness of their attire wasn''t indicator of their relation enough, but seems to lack his fire and rage at the world.


    We don''t have time to question the scene. The giant has the kids cornered. The girl sees me, her eyes wide.


    My legs start moving before I even come to a conscious decision. Since I used Purification Cannon, my magazine is empty, so I punch the release even as I''m ripping a pack of overpressures from my satchel, letting the empty one freefall to the ground.


    "Hey! Big guy!" I rack the slide and raise my gun. "Pick on someone half your size!"


    Even as I''m firing, Ayre comes up alongside me with Spiral Shot. The giant, the golem I realize, raises an arm against the bombardment with an indignant roar, but that doesn''t prevent the specialized attacks from penetrating deep into its body. It staggers briefly under the onslaught, but finds its feet just as my magazine bottoms out.


    The giant is looking a lot less like stones and a lot more like swiss cheese just from that brief exchange, but that doesn''t stop it from charging at us.


    Ayre and I jump in opposite directions, and I reload with the explosive incendiary bullets, determined to use the strategy I had considered for the Abomination.


    "It doesn''t have any glowing bits," Ayre shouts over the quaking from the giant''s fist impacting where we''d been standing.


    "I''ve got a plan," I call back. "Fall back and protect those siblings!"


    The golem tries to take a swipe at Ayre when the elf turns to leave, but my first fireball rattles the creature and draws its attention to me.


    "That''s right, Gravel Face! Over here!"


    I plant my feet in line with my shoulders and hold my pistol up before me with both hands like I''m expecting a huge recoil.


    "Now! Let''s go all the way! Empower! Spiral Shot! Time to find out how fast I can pull the trigger!"


    Against the far wall, Ayre balls up and guides the kids to do the same, covering their ears and tucking them between the archer''s body and the wall.


    The next moment, the room fills with heat and noise as a twenty-round barrage of deep-penetrating fireballs tears into the golem. Spiral Shot basically turns them into High-Explosive Anti-Tank rounds, exactly what the Hero ordered for one big, angry pile of pavement.


    The smell of sulfur and smoke linger in the air for longer than the explosions, themselves.


    "Did you have to use so many?!" Ayre protests after even those finally fade and the golem is nothing but actual gravel and dust.


    "Dunno!" I grin cheekily as I raise my pistol out of the firing position. "Too late to find out now!"

 Chapter 52 - Kids

    Chapter 52


    Kids


    "I''m not some child. I don''t need candy."


    The boy''s words make the girl hesitate to bite into her own caramel apple, no doubt wanting to live up to whatever her brother''s expectations might be.


    Too bad for him I''m not falling for it.


    "Well, I''m going to have to ask you to bear with it," I reply as if completely sincere. "It''s not candy, it''s a restorative. Ayre and I just like sweets."


    He eyes the apple in his hand with a scowl. "I told you, I''m not some child. You can''t convince me this is some kind of potion."


    "I didn''t say it''s a potion," I reply, crossing my arms. "I said it''s a restorative. My cooking skill is high enough I can make food with benefits."


    That''s a partial lie, of course. I do have the Cooking skill, and it does increase the nutritional quality of dishes, but the potent recovery of the treat is from the Essence crops used to make it. I''m not interested in waving that little bit around, though, and it would require way more explanation, anyway.


    "Besides," I add, "think of the worry you''ll cause your sister, running around as injured as you are." He is, in fact, pretty seriously hurt, according to Diagnose, though most of it must be internal, and he''s putting on a brave face. His mana is low, too.


    He looks to his sister at that, who has silently been eating at her own apple.


    She pauses and gives a quiet, "... It''s good."


    "Does it work?" he asks. "Is your health recovering?"


    She nods. "Yes. My mana, too."


    That surprises him. "Your mana?" Then his eyes widen as he looks down at his own candy apple and back up to me. "The sugar!"


    I grin, giving the boy a finger gun and a wink I trust the System to translate as something akin to, Got it!


    He frowns back down at it like he''s losing some sort of battle. "Well, if needs must ..." And finally bites in. He notably has trouble limiting himself to the same speed that seems to come natural to his sibling, but I''m not going to call him out for it.


    He''s halfway through it before he speaks up again. "Did our uncle send you?"


    I shake my head, though. "Sorry, bub, don''t even know who you are. I''m Remmi Lee, that''s Ayre." I motion first to myself, then to the elf off to the side, who nods.


    He takes the hint and motions to himself and his sister. "I''m Mataru Hagasu. This is my sister, Mei. Our uncle is the lord of this region."


    I think back to my lessons from Yorin on the topic, and to my first day in Dabun. "Lord Ettia, right?"


    He nods. "Is there another?"


    All I can do is shrug. "I''m not from the Empire originally, sorry. I''m still learning who''s who."


    Mataru''s eyes drift to the gun on my hip. "And that beastly thing you fight with, what is it?"


    I give it an affectionate pat. "It''s a weapon from my homeland, called a pistol. For us, it was an upgrade from the crossbow. Its ammunition is hard to come by here if you can''t make it, yourself, though."


    "So you''re just adventurers, here to cull a low-level dungeon?"


    I nod. "That''s the gist of it, yeah. What about you two?"


    Mataru goes silent, brooding and grim, but it''s the quiet Mei who answers.


    "We want power."


    Even her neutral tone manages to carry some venom, and I come down on one knee to be more level with where they''re sitting. "Is someone hurting you?" I ask with grave seriousness.


    But Mataru violently shakes his head. "Someone killed our father!" he seethes. "And framed our mother! Two of the greatest, most wonderful people to ever serve the Empire!"


    He seems near tears, but is fiercely determined not to permit them through. "We''re out here instead of with her because they sent us away for our own protection! But if we had the strength to fight the people responsible, we wouldn''t have to hide from them!"


    I nod in understanding. Schemes among nobles, maybe? Sounds about right, but I didn''t think the empress would be the sort to let them get so bloody.


    Ayre is of a different mind. "What were you two thinking?! Throwing away the protection your parents arranged for you! Leave the fighting to fighters!"


    "I''m surprised at you, Ayre," I tsk, shaking my head. "Leave it to someone else? Why? Toleste is literally a place where you can learn anything, do anything, reach any height just by putting in the effort! I''m not one for vengeance as a healthy motivation, but talking like they can''t do it seems hypocritical."


    "They''re kids!"


    Mataru starts to bristle at that, but I beat him to it.


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    "They''ve got classes, Ayre," I point out, crossing my arms. "That means they''re potentially capable of anything we are. And Mataru''s barely younger than we are, if at all. How old were you when you started out?"


    I heft the Golem Core that survived the destruction of the boss. It''s a stone ball about the size of a grapefruit and covered in runes that remind me strongly of circuits. "That being said, you guys definitely bit off more than you could chew here. If we hadn''t happened to come through, your quest would have ended right here."


    The boy''s feelings practically flare across his face, they''re so easy to read. Now he''s sulking. "It''s not our fault. Rapier and flame just isn''t much good against a golem!"


    I can''t fault that logic. "Yeah, that''s not good against anything particularly well-armored," I agree instead. "I''d recommend picking up some penetration skills. Open up a tough enemy, then you can hit the inside." I look over to the pile of rubble. "Or just blow it apart."


    He nods, and I shift and move to stand. "Well, we''ve just got one more thing to take care of, then we can get you two back to your uncle."


    That gets both of their attention. I was starting to think Mei''s whole world was the candy apple. It''s still Mataru that speaks up.


    "What else do you have to do? The dungeon lord is dead."


    So that''s what they call the boss. Come to think of it, boss and lord are synonyms.


    It''s only been a couple minutes since the dungeon boss died. When that happened, a portal opened up, revealing the way to the core room.


    Ayre assured me ahead of time that this was perfectly normal. It is common practice to beseech the core for a reward upon overcoming its trials, and back when there was a hard separation between the worshipers of Essence and Magic, the cores were outright worshiped as guardian spirits.


    Seeing how hard this one fought to keep from going critical, I kind of wish I had something to leave with it now.


    I point toward the portal as I answer the boy. "The dungeon has an infection, that''s why it''s so weird. We''re here to cull it, yes, but also to treat it."


    His eyes widen further. "You''re a priestess?!"


    I give an embarrassed grin. "No, not quite, but I have enough training that they can send me out on purification jobs like this."


    Mataru gives a thoughtful frown at that. "Yes, that makes sense. Less danger to acolytes if they can send a seasoned adventurer, instead."


    "That''s the gist of the idea, anyway," I agree with a nod. "You two finish those apples so you''re ready to go. I shouldn''t be long."


    * * *


    *Yorin*


    "The dungeon core was completely overgrown with jagged, razor-sharp crystals. Just going through the portal nearly ended with me impaled from three different directions! I had to fire my Purification Cannon in half a dozen short bursts just to get to the actual core!"


    "I see," I say after taking a sip of my tea. "And then what did you do?"


    "I purified the core, of course!" Remmi plants her fists on her hips and grins in a decidedly foreign gesture, yet thanks to the blessings of Essence, I understand it to display pride in her accomplishment.


    "After that, I gave it the biggest chunk of holy arcanite we had and assured it that I''d purified the stuff, so it should put the energy to good use getting itself back in shape! Then I gave it a candy apple, patted it and reassured it that it was all better now and to behave itself!"


    At that, the Gunslinger Hero looks a lot less certain of herself. "I, uh ... honestly, I don''t know if it''s even capable of hearing stuff like that. But it absorbed the apple and the crystal after I did, so I''m sure the sentiment got through."


    Trying to console a dungeon core. Such an alien thing is absolutely something Remmi would try. But there''s something even more pressing I''m trying to move toward.


    "And that was when you received the message?"


    She replies with an energetic nod.


    The message ... It was one of what Remmi calls pop-ups, spontaneous notifications from the Essence System that appear in your field of view, but are invisible to others unless deliberately shared.


    They do have them back in her Earth, apparently. They call it Augmented Reality. They use artifice to enable them, however, as Remmi''s homeland is apparently very sparse in both Essence and Magic.


    Every time what I hear makes them sound backwards and primitive, even positively medieval, something else comes up that reminds me how parallel to Furinshao they really are. Completely, utterly alien, yet parallel.


    Such messages, themselves, of course, are nothing new, but the specific one she received promises to revolutionize how we combat the darkness from beyond the Western Demesne.


    "You have purified all of the dungeons in this region," it read, according to her recitation. "This region is now warded against contamination."


    Could it be so straight-forward? And what twist of fortune was this, that Remmi was sent to perhaps the only region so thin as to have only a single dungeon, so that this is discovered immediately?


    As a Sacred Priestess, I should, of course, accept this as providence from the System, but isn''t this far too heavily handed?


    ... No, I only want to tell myself this because my own duty should have brought this knowledge about long before now. If chance alone can be blamed, then I may hold myself guiltless.


    Oh, there were other things in the message, of course. First-time clearing bonuses, that sort of thing. None of it relevant to the fight against the darkness. To that cause, the intelligence on a dungeon''s response to corruption is far more valuable.


    ... It will have to be jealously guarded from the nobles, of course. Nearly guaranteeing constant treasure from a dungeon would lead too many of them to doing something terribly foolhardy. As it is, it is fortunate that Remmi intends to keep most of what she received for her hated hobby. It would be difficult to find buyers for so much without drawing unwanted attention in that regard.


    I go to take another sip from my tea - my fourth since the girl''s return. I find the cup dry. Without letting it change my expression, I set the clay vessel to the side for now. We''re nearly done, after all.


    "And when you returned to the village, the Hagasu siblings rented a carriage to return home?"


    Again, Remmi nods. "I offered to take them in mine, but apparently that''s offensive."


    "It implies they cannot afford it," I confirm. "It is obvious why that would offend a noble, even as a child."


    But she frowns. "It wasn''t about the price. Mine''s way more comfortable!" She shakes her head to clear it and reset the topic. "They''re good kids. Traumatized, but good. I know I shouldn''t think of them as kids, but they strike me like that, anyway."


    "Maturity is often a greater determinant than age between a child and an adult."


    I have my own concerns about those "kids," but I don''t want to trouble Remmi with it right now. Especially if they are staying in Serazin Province, I can keep an eye on things better than she will be able.


    After all ...


    "You two should leave the village in the care of Kyuuga and myself for the time being, I think. Instead, I believe you need to prioritize more dungeons."


    Ayre''s eyes widen. "But ... we just got back!"


    I raise a hand to still her. "I do not intend for you to leave immediately. I need time to confer with the Imperial House on the matter, after all. In the meantime, you should tend to your preparations. And you have a test to study for."


    Both children gasp at the reminder of the ranking test Guildmaster Kobi is demanding of them.


    "Oh no," the archer bemoans predictably. "Since we had to escort Mataru and Mei back, I didn''t get to train down my dungeon points!"


    Again, I raise my hand. "I will speak with the guildmaster about your exigent circumstances. He is a rough man, but not an unreasonable one. Consider such training a part of your preparations."


    Remmi surprises me by smiling, the expression a little sad, as she takes my hand that''s still on the table in her own.


    "Thanks, Yorin. You''ve been a huge help for so much. It''s not going to be the same without you along."


    I give her my warmest smile back and pat her hands in return. "As I do for Xuhi, Remmi, I remain only a missive away."

 Chapter 53 - Summary

    Chapter 53


    Summary


    To Her Imperial Highness Xuhitana Furinshao


    From Your Loyal Servant Sacred Yorin Holt


    On the Matter of the Growth of the Gunslinger Hero


    I wish to open first with the successful completion of my primary mission. Hero Remmi Lee has been brought to par with the other summoned Heroes. At only level Ten, she possesses equivalent might to what they were granted at their summons. With her Heavenly Artifact, she will surely be able to match any gains they have made since then.


    I have already informed her that she is to be dispatched, though I ask your forgiveness, as I have assumed what her mission should be. Hopefully, by the end of this missive, you will concur.


    Though I objected from time to time at the delays, it has actually been a startlingly short span of just a few months. Looking back, I find myself wishing I had taken a more proactive role in her training. I thought I had more time. I thought she would call upon me more.


    In truth, it was hubris, and she barely needed me but for social guidance. I would never have even trained her the way she sought power, and I genuinely believe now that she would have been lesser for it.


    Hero Remmi Lee called it a "shotgun" approach in jest, explaining that it was similar to grapeshot for a weapon like her artifact. It is strange, then, that she did not simply say grapeshot, or that the Essence did not translate it that way, but I digress.


    "Generalist" was another term she used that did not require explanation. The way of her people is to seek to be good at a little bit of a lot, and thus never lack an answer. She tried to explain why they saw overspecialization as bad, but there was something about baskets of eggs and hammers and nails.


    For your sanity, do not engage in long conversations with Hero Remmi Lee without a clear topic on which to focus her attention.


    I confess that I, like most civilized people, have long imagined such an approach as scattered and haphazard. Grapeshot is a better analogy, however. It spreads, yes, but not everywhere. Remmi described it as a cone spreading out from a point of origin to cover a wider, but still targeted area.


    Hero Remmi Lee has spread beyond the scope I would have identified as that of a "Gunslinger," but in every direction she has reached, it has come back in unexpected ways to enable her meteoric growth.


    I would have never encouraged gardening for her as more than a meditative practice, however. Yet I am certain you have by now sampled the fruit of her labors for yourself. Her eagerness to learn general skills that I would have thought senseless paved the way to new traits at an unfathomable rate.


    Of course, I do not need to explain to you, of all people, the value in investing wisely into the fields of magic to supplement a warrior''s abilities on the battlefield. Her lack of fear here, too, sees her closing in on you.


    Even as someone with the abilities of one three times her level, and even with a Heavenly Artifact, itself imbued with the power to rival a Hero, she can jump higher still. She takes the things that other martial warriors reject and makes them monstrous, all because she cannot stand for something about her to be idle.


    If she has mana, it must be burned. If she has points, they must be spent. If she has material, she must build something. Essence help the girl, if she has health, she means to take a blow.


    To estimate her functional level, with gun in hand, I would say it is five times higher than it appears from her status alone. As you know, this would place her on par with a Gold-rank adventurer. Few reach the highest rank of Platinum, meaning precious few within the empire could defeat her in single combat even now.


    And yet, with a level of only Ten, she as yet possesses so much room to grow.


    And to think that it was she who so accidentally discovered the secret of the dungeon cores. Those ancient beliefs of guardian spirits may have been more insightful than they were ever duly credited.


    As you know, Purification is a high-level Priest magic. Only Sacred-ranks are capable of using it. Acquiring it is, in fact, one of the requirements for becoming a Sacred Priest. The addition of Heroes to that list is an unquestionable boon, but will also tie them closer to the temple in the eyes of the faithful.


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    Likewise, Purification is an ability channeling pure Essence. The capacity of dungeon cores, formations of raw Arcane energy, to resonate with it opens an unfathomable number of questions for researchers.


    For the time being, however, the fact that this resonance repels the corruption over an entire region is, I feel, the most important revelation of this excursion, followed closely by how the core seemingly attempted to eject the corruption, itself.


    I would like to know if such Purification techniques have been distributed by the System to the other Heroes, or if it is to be triggered or purchased. I understand that the generals have already divided them and sent them to deal with issues thought to be born of the Darkness, but the presence or absence of such a technique could greatly alter their ability to address such an issue.


    Assuming, of course, the nobles haven''t just dispatched the Heroes to solve their own problems for them.


    I would also request access to what knowledge we have of the dungeons within the Western Demesne prior to the fall of the region. While fortifying all regions along its border must be our first priority, any knowledge of the movement of the Darkness across the realm could help determine a point of origin.


    I recommend any logistical resources not dedicated to tracking down sources of corruption be turned to identifying key dungeons to reinforce and determining the advancement pattern of the corruption.


    I further recommend that I be permitted to deploy Gunslinger Hero Remmi Lee to the reinforcement of said dungeons, beginning in the Southern regions and moving North and West from there. An exact deployment pattern will be developed upon receiving a list of relevant targets.


    I know that you will be concerned when you learn that she found the Hagasu children in the dungeon. You will fear that they seeded the corruption. However, I do not believe there to be a cause for concern. The children are angry, but show no sign of corruption. By their testimony, the dungeon was already in such a condition when they arrived, as well.


    They could be lying, of course, but there is no evidence to support such an accusation at this time. So long as they are staying with their uncle, however, I can keep them under watch.


    * * *


    *Yorin*


    I set my brush in the well as I consider what else there is to say.


    The children are a concern, of course, but I share Remmi''s conviction that they aren''t harbingers of corruption. At the very least, they certainly weren''t responsible for the contamination at the dungeon. The core, itself, was contaminated, and they hadn''t even been able to reach it.


    Still, I wish I''d gotten to examine them, myself. I would have insisted, to ensure they were well enough to travel after their ordeal, but they had hardly gotten to the gate before begging off.


    Perhaps I should send missive to their uncle, warn him about the dangers of inexperienced exploration of dungeons. Oh, I doubt he knows they had gone at all. Had it been with his permission, he would have surely hired an escort. Phrasing such a letter as if he did know is a political courtesy, rude as it is to assume that a noble does not know what goes on within his own home.


    That man is a concern, too, albeit for entirely different reasons unrelated to the corruption. The news of the Abomination must surely have reached him by now and he has heard that Dabun Village was saved by a Hero. Normally, this would be worth a formal notice of gratitude, at the very least.


    Not a word, not of the Hero, at least. Only a crier relaying that he was grateful the village made it through, and that he was sorry it had fallen to outside hands to resolve it.


    There is little doubt that was the part directed at the Hero. It is entirely likely that he still does not consider Remmi an actual Hero. He still sees her as an outsider and a reject. He owes his gratitude, then, to happenstance, not to her.


    At least he has not taken any action against her. He seems resentful, but tolerant of her presence.


    My thoughts turn, of course, to Remmi in short order after that. It''s true that she didn''t need me as much as I thought she would, but I also wasn''t there for her as much as I could have been. This temple didn''t require my constant supervision.


    But I expected her to come to me. All of Toleste new to her, surely she would be overwhelmed and run to me for advice and familiarity. And I expected to have more than two months to find the time for that.


    I let my imagination conjure up a different passage of time. I stayed at her cabin with her. I made sure she went to bed on time, instead of staying up just because she could. I made sure she had fresh food in the evening, and checked on her during the day.


    I praised her for her hard work. I ooh''d and ahh''d at the Noodle Spitter appropriately. I made sure to excitedly encourage her to show me it in operation. I talked with her every evening about the new skills she''d picked up and what she''d learned about them.


    Every Holy Day, we went into the village for the service. She never wanted to, but I insisted that I had to go and wanted her company. It was important for building relationships with the locals, too, after all. Of course, the first time, I still had to bribe her with the food that would be there, the glutton ...


    Instead of just sending her off, I took her to the guild for her exam and cheered her on. I celebrated the ease with which she claimed bronze. I went with her and taught her about the realm on her quests, instead of chaining her to Wood missions I knew that she was never going to bother with.


    I was there when she met Ayre. I went with them as an assistant to clear out the nest. Those children were not alone when they faced the Abomination, nor without tools to deal with it.


    Woe, for many were the mistakes I made with her. Was I so careless with Xuhi? Perhaps I was. For her, it worked. Perhaps in their similarities, I forgot that Remmi and Xuhi are not the same. Remmi isn''t a scarred little girl, desperately focused on vengeance. The cold hardened little Xuhi, but Remmi only reciprocated the distance.


    Perhaps I should be the one to watch her cabin while she is away. The temple will be complete before the season is ended. I could water her crops for her, see that the wildlife stays out.


    No. No, I cannot. As much as it would ease my guilt, I do not have the skills to see to a farm, and the guild has already begun the process of hiring someone that does. And I am not without responsibilities of my own, either.


    I sigh and lean back against the divider wall behind me. Oh, to do it over again, might I have the wisdom to give Remmi the attention she deserves ...


    At the very least, I will make certain I spend more time with her before she leaves. And there should be a send-off dinner the night before ...

 Chapter 54 - Cow

    Chapter 54


    Cow


    I stand with arms crossed, glaring down with pouted lips at the large, ceramic pot of chaff, broken-down stalks, leaves and murky water that sits in front of me. It''ll have to be sealed to keep the slimes out of it, and set in the metal cage to be rotated a couple times a day to break down into proper mulch, but that''s not what''s occupying my thoughts.


    Ayre sidles up next to me with the wariness one approaches explosives, probably worried that I''m considering something crazier than sun-baking my mulch. "... Everything okay, Remmi?"


    Too bad he''s right.


    "I want a cow."


    The archer staggers back. "A ... cow?"


    "I can''t grow one from seed bullets," I explain my thought process. "But I can grow grain and hay to feed it. I''ll bet if it''s on a diet of essence foods long enough, its milk will become Essence Milk! And that would really open up the kinds of things I could cook!"


    I turn away, holding my chin in thought. "In fact, if it works with cows, we should get some chickens, too. Essence Eggs! I could make Essence Custard!" I have to swallow to fight back the tidal wave of saliva just that thought triggers.


    And I rotate back to the flustered-looking elf. "But would Essence Eggs hatch into Essence Chicks? Would it be self-sustaining? Would they lose it if they didn''t eat essence food, too, or would it disappear after a generation?"


    Ayre frowns at me once I pause, then comes over and raps his knuckles against my forehead. It''s not hard enough to hurt, and I blink at the impact.


    "... Ayre?"


    "Just checking to see if the power is filling up your head." The archer''s eyes close with a huff. "Good news, it''s still empty."


    I jut my bottom lip out in a pout. "I have an Intellect of two hundred! That''s not empty!"


    "It''s empty of common sense."


    I turn away with my arms crossed. "Fine, I guess you don''t want custard topped with caramel sauce."


    There''s a beat where that''s getting processed before Ayre clenches his fists, turning them outward at the end of his held-straight arms. "Oh, come on, Remmi, that''s not fair! You can''t use my sweet tooth against me like that! And besides, you can make that out of normal ingredients just fine!"


    "Just fine, sure," I agree, raising a finger for emphasis, "but with Essence ingredients, I can make it even better."


    Ayre''s face twists into a surly pout as the manifestation of the last of his resistance. "... Fine, but you''ve got to run it by the guild since we''re not going to be here to take care of them. They''ll have to make sure whoever they hire to watch the place is qualified to handle livestock, too."


    "Yeah, yeah, I''ll take it up while we''re in there today." I sigh and stretch my back out. "Honestly, if this house-sitting weren''t part of the guild contract, it would be getting crazy expensive. I''ve already got to pay the temple fees for Yorin to come confirm the quality every week."


    "She said if it was something she could do, herself, she''d have waived the fee, which is nice," Ayre reminds me.


    "Yeah, but everyone needs a soul stone to cast Identify," I point out what it is I''m paying for. "And only the temple can issue those." I sigh. "Wish I could just teach it to her."


    "You are clenching bits, Remmi," Ayre counters. "You may not be seeing the results yet, but you''re richer than some nobles now. The stone fee is nothing more than a drop of water for you."


    "And a necessary processing fee," I agree. "Especially if there''s going to be produce that may take time to qualify."


    The elf gives a hum as we head back toward the cabin. "Speaking of nobles, I wonder how those two kids are doing ..."


    I scoff. "Probably already getting into more trouble."


    That puts a look of panic across Ayre''s face. "Already?! Have they even had time to get home?!"


    "I wouldn''t be surprised to find out they didn''t even go home," I point out. "I figure they took the carriage they hired straight off in another direction."


    "And we didn''t stop them?!"


    I frown back at my friend, stopping at the bottom of the steps to plant my hands on my hips. "What would you have us do, Ayre? Escort them back in chains? Those two are on a personal mission. They aren''t going to be so easily dissuaded."


    "You knew from the start," the elf accuses me. "I thought we were sending them home!"


    "I know nothing," I counter. "I only suspect. And suspicion alone isn''t enough to hold a couple of nobles against their will, even I know that much."


    Ayre deflates at that. "You''re right, Remmi, I''m sorry. I just ... I thought we were sending them to safety."


    "We have a saying back home," I provide as we head inside and begin gathering our things. "You can lead a horse to water, but you can''t make it drink. It means you can''t force people to do what''s good for them. We got them out of danger and saw them to town, but our hands were tied when they decided they didn''t want our help any further."


    I specifically grab the Noodle Spitter and put it in an over-the-shoulder holster I had custom-made for it, along with several spare wooden magazines for it that go into a dedicated hip pouch. My gun is still on my hip, of course, but I don''t want to use it for the test, it''s too disproportionate. Likewise, Ayre is taking his recurve bow, not the compound one I made.


    It feels kind of nice for us to be concealing our power level like this, in a cheesy, weeby kind of way, even if it''s for slightly different reasons. The guild already knows of my gun, I just don''t want to seriously hurt anybody for a rank exam. Ayre, on the other hand, is avoiding causing a technological leap in bowyery.


    It''s not like the archer is going without. I have the compound bow stashed in my storage just in case of an emergency.


    We spend the walk into town talking about this and that, about upgrades to the training course, about recipes, about outfits and how leaving Dabun would finally allow Ayre to hold me to the promise to diversify my wardrobe.


    Yorin is outside, talking with the laborers, when we come through. She sees us, wraps up the conversation, then breaks off to intercept us.


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    "Good morning," she greets us. "Are you on your way to the guild hall to take the rank examination?"


    "Good morning, Sacred Yorin," Ayre returns her greeting with formality. "And yes, we believe ourselves suitably prepared."


    The priestess looks over our equipment, and, of course, notices the oddities. "Yes, prepared to restrain yourselves," she muses. "It could throw off your results, you know."


    "It''s worth the risk," I explain. "My pistol is just too powerful. My only means of using it without killing someone is paralysis rounds that ... well ..." I give a glance to Ayre, who felt them first-hand. "... they really hurt."


    Ayre cringes a bit at the recollection, but gives a firm nod. "Remmi called it cruel and unusual. I agree. It is better to save the Heavenly Thunder rounds for when they are the only viable option."


    I pat the firearm on my hip. "They''re loaded anyway, just in case, but yeah. I''ll be trying to stick to the Noodle Spitter. Should be a good live-fire test for it, too."


    "Haven''t you been testing it in your obstacle course rather extensively?"


    I nod. "Stress tests mostly. It''s hard to gauge performance against a flesh and bone target that''s wearing armor when you''re only using paper and straw."


    "I wouldn''t say it lags in any way compared to my bow, though," Ayre puts in. "Well, it doesn''t have the strength of the strange compound type bow that Remmi made for me, but they work on similar mechanisms, so, my bow being so much bigger, that makes sense."


    Yorin nods in comprehension of what we are saying. "Speaking of your compound bow, Ayre, I notice you are using your recurve bow instead. I certainly appreciate the aesthetics of it more, but as you said, its performance is not on the same level."


    Being put on the spot makes Ayre nervous, turning away slightly and scratching at his jaw. "Well, we were worried it might be too foreign. The design would raise too many questions from other adventurers that I can''t really answer. An archer that can''t explain how their bow works, isn''t that unacceptable?"


    "I could explain it," I take over, "but you''ve advised me many times of being careful how much I share about technology from my world."


    I shift my shoulder to indicate the crossbow strapped there. "A hand crossbow made by a Hero? Nobody''s going to question why it performs so well. The excuse is built in. But if that same Hero can craft other weapons, that''s going to raise a whole lot more eyebrows."


    Ayre glances to me at that. "Can you craft other weapons, or are you limited to projectiles?"


    I rub the back of my head at that. "I mean, probably. Firearms pretty much rendered the usual swords, spears, axes and clubs redundant, but there''s plenty of ways to improve them. Different alloys that hold better edges, for example. Titanium, aluminum, graphene, those don''t translate, right?"


    Both elves shake their heads at the strange words.


    "Still," Yorin sighs, "I ask that you stick to your plan to keep that mostly to yourself. Perhaps offer it as aid to the other Heroes, but it is wise to otherwise not spread it beyond your immediate allies."


    I get a grin on my face. "Want a new staff, Yorin?"


    She frowns right back as if seeking to invert the arc of my lips with her own. "As if you needed an excuse to study thaumaturgical flow. And it would be necessary for you to do so. Magical implements are not simply concerned with durability and edge retention. The offer is appreciated, Remmi, but no, thank you."


    I''m already thinking about electrical circuits and how much the runes on the golem core resembled them, but I''ll keep that to myself for now. "In other news, we''re thinking of expanding the essence farm."


    Yorin''s eyes widen in curiosity at that. "Oh? New crops?"


    But Ayre''s ears go nearly level with the elf''s eyes. "She wants a cow. And chickens."


    The priestess seems confused at the response. "I do not see the issue. Milk and eggs are fundamental components to many dishes, and if you get them now, you would have a decent stockpile of both by the time you leave."


    Ayre shakes his head. "She wants to grow Essence crops specifically to feed them in the hopes of producing Essence Milk and Eggs."


    Yorin''s eyes widen again, further than mere curiosity. "I ... see ... Remmi, have you considered the implications of such a plan?"


    "It runs the risk of altering the lifeforms, themselves," I admit. "Do chickens hatched from Essence Eggs cease to be normal chickens? Does a calf that has had nothing but Essence Milk, and then Essence Feed, become an Essence Cow? If so, are these changes permanent? I don''t know."


    "And yet you wish to do it, anyway?"


    I shrug. "I don''t think it will produce major threats to the creatures, themselves, and I can''t deny the potential health benefits of enhancing things that are already superfoods."


    Yorin seems to think about it for a moment, then nods. "I agree. The potential benefit is greater than the low chance of harm. I will support this experiment. There is little, if any, such livestock in Dabun, but that is not a large obstacle. I can assist you in arranging such purchases through the guild."


    "That''d be great! Thanks, Yorin!" There''s still much of the economy in the Furinshao Empire that I don''t understand, mostly relative prices. Buying chickens isn''t so bad, but buying a milk cow should be pretty expensive, or at least it would be back on Earth. Unfortunately, I don''t know what "expensive" means on Toleste.


    It''s Ayre that asks, "Does that mean that you will be coming with us today?"


    And I''m treated to one of the increasingly rare looks at Yorin appearing humble. For once, I don''t think it''s an act.


    "If it wouldn''t trouble you two any, I would like to accompany you, yes. And, with your permission, I''d like to watch you take your exams."


    My grin returns. "At the risk of repeating myself, that''d be great! Of course you''re welcome to come along!"


    "Wonderful! Just let me set tasks for the crew," she says. "I''ll only be a few moments!"


    "Sacred Yorin will be watching us," Ayre frets once the priestess leaves. "I think my nervousness just leveled up. Has it become a status condition?"


    I chuckle and pull up my own status for one last review. "You don''t have anything to worry about, Ayre. It''s just friends supporting friends."


    <hr>


    NAME: Remmi Lee


    RACE: Human (Outsider)


    AGE: 15 (24)


    LEVEL: 10


    CLASS: Gunslinger


    HP: 400/400


    MP: 300/300


    ST: 300/300


    STRENGTH: 100


    TOUGHNESS: 100


    INTELLECT: 200


    AGILITY: 150


    POINTS: 5,270


    TRAITS:


    Hero


    Gun Nut


    Jack of All Trades (General)


    Hedge Witch


    <hr>

 Book Two Prologue

    THE STORY SO FAR ...


    Remmi Lee, a 24-year-old American engineer, found herself in another realm where she was interrogated by a floating text box. After ruminating on the nature of power, she was unceremoniously dropped from the sky realm into the world of Toleste and the Furinshao Empire. When she came to in the High Temple, she realized she had been granted a new, fifteen-year-old body.


    Apparently one of five Heroes summoned to save the realm from a mysterious darkness, she quickly learned that she was the only one from another world, and her chosen manifestation of power - the firearm - didn''t exist here.


    Humiliated by the schemes of the imperial court''s noble elite, it wasn''t until she already resolved herself upon a backup plan that she learned that her personal firearm had been taken by order of the emperor as a powerful Heavenly Artifact.


    Proving her competency with the weapon, she was granted the formerly-denied recognition as an imperial Hero, but manifesting at Level 1 meant that she was still too far behind the other Heroes. With the elven priestess Sacred Yorin accompanying her, she was dispatched to the quiet Dabun Village in the distant Serazin Province.


    On the property she was granted there, Remmi quickly adapted to the Essence System, an augmented-reality interface available to all in Toleste that numerically evaluates their physical and mental abilities. Heroes in particular are able to purchase upgrades and even knowledge of new skills directly for points, which she promptly discovered a way to farm.


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    She joined the empire''s adventurer''s guild, called the Independent Exploration Service Guild, and quickly received the rank of Bronze despite a level of only three. Forbidden by Yorin from taking more than basic missions alone, she teamed up with a Bronze-ranked elven archer named Ayre.


    The Iron-ranked mission they thought to test their teamwork on went sideways when a Heart of Corruption turned a monster nest into an undead abomination. Though they were able to defeat the monster, the System had to grant Remmi a unique purification power to destroy the Heart, itself.


    Returning to the village, Ayre moved in with Remmi at her estate so that they could train together, taking advantage of the passive gains, similar to a dungeon, that Remmi granted her teammates. Over the same time, Remmi finalized several projects, including the design of a repeating crossbow, upgrading Ayre''s hunting bow, and completing several primitive elemental stone devices.


    When they finally set out for their first dungeon culling, they didn''t find the lush forest dungeon that should have been there, but one twisted by the same corruption to claim the monster nest. Fighting their way through the spirits and ghouls inhabiting the barren crystal caves, they rescue a pair of siblings from the dungeon''s final guardian and purify the dungeon core.


    In the process, they discover that purifying all of the dungeons in a region protects the region against corruption, and are soon charged once more with an updated mission to do exactly that.


    Well, after they re-take their ranking exam, anyway ...

 Book Two Chapter 1 - Provisions

    Chapter 1


    Provisions


    *Mataru*


    Mei and I push ahead on tired feet through the night, with only the light of the moon to guide us. We don''t dare use lanterns, though we have one with full oil. We may be following the road, but we can''t afford to stop at a waystation inn for fear of being recognized again, either.


    Perhaps we''ve finally been gone long enough to rouse our uncle''s concern, or maybe someone from that rabbit village alerted him to what we had been doing. Either way, missing posters with our likenesses have gone up at every waystation and village up and down the imperial road.


    We thought we''d be in the clear once we were out of the province, but we were immediately recognized and detained until an escort could be arranged. Fortunately, those that found us were ill-equipped to contain nobles and underestimated us, making possible our escape.


    Ever since, though, we''ve been hiding from every traveler we see coming and avoiding every settlement. We sleep in the lofts of barns outside the walls or in what shelter we can manage for ourselves. I''ll admit, it has made me wish I paid more attention to our huntsmaster, instead of assuming things like foraging and simple shelters would always be someone else''s job.


    Mei stumbles, and I''m by her side in a moment. The girl never complains despite how much harder it all must be on her, with her younger age and lower stamina, so I always try to accommodate her when I do realize she needs it.


    "Mei, are you alright? Come on, let''s get off the road and we can rest for a while." I get an arm around her waist and help her off into the tree line before setting her against the trunk of a large oak.


    I hardly recognize her as I look down at her. We were never heavy-set like some nobles get, but endless travel has stripped us lean. We rarely get a chance to wash, so her face is dirty and her once-silky raven-black hair is starting to mat.


    And gone are her elegant dress and other fineries. Not only were they getting worn by travel they weren''t meant for, but once we realized people were looking for us, our noble attire became too risky. One of the last times we passed by a village, I stole a cloak off of a farmer''s clothesline and slipped in to buy us more common clothes.


    The same probably applies to me. The simple linen clothes we''ve switched to are starting to wear, too, and we smell like sweat, road dust and hay. Perhaps by the time we wear these out, too, we''ll be unrecognizable enough to indulge in some of the more basic advantages of civilization again. After we scrub ourselves out in a river first.


    As I''m considering all of this, my sister has clearly been traveling her own line of thought, and she says something utterly incomprehensible.


    "We should have stayed with Remmi."


    All I can think about is my poor sister. Have I been pushing her too hard? Have I been focusing too much on moving forward and forgotten to pay enough attention to her well-being?


    "How can you say that?" After a long moment, such a stupid question is all that can leave my mouth.


    Her own lips frown in thought and discomfort both. "Her carriage was really comfortable, and her food reminds me of Mother''s. She was very nice, too. She wanted to help us."


    I shift the pack on my back as I consider her points. Really, that foreigner woman has already helped us a great deal. She was the one who gave us the backpack. It was originally filled with a variety of delicious meals she''d made, all kept perfectly fresh by the bag''s enchantment that made it so time didn''t pass while it was closed.


    I can''t imagine how a bronze-rank adventurer could afford to just give away such a treasure, but the food is long gone. In its place are much more mundane provisions that I''ll readily admit aren''t nearly as satisfying.


    I never imagined myself as a picky eater. I actually kind of like the smoked meat and dried cheeses we got, and the backpack means we could go for actual bread instead of tack. There''s nothing wrong with the food, but I understand what Mei means. There was just something ... more about Mother''s cooking, and about the foreigner''s, too.


    And her carriage! I''d seen its physical likeness in the capital, but even royal carriages, I''m sure, don''t ride so smoothly. It was like riding on a cloud compared to the endless impacts of the ground against our feet. Our own carriage we took from the village was only rented, making it an unacceptably clear trail to any who wanted to find us, so we''d abandoned that method of travel after a single day.


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    Further, I''ve never known Mei to speak so glowingly of anyone. She is normally very selective of her praises and insular by nature. For Remmi Lee to have made such a strong impression on her in such a short time, it''s a greater light on her character than a throne admission.


    But there''s something my normally intuitive little sister isn''t considering, and I kneel down next to her to remind her of it.


    "Mei, the people that destroyed our family are Heroes. That foreigner may have had the best of intentions, but nobody is going to support us when they find out our enemies are those ..." I growl as I find the words to spit in disgust. "... sacred bastions of light they grovel over."


    Her frown deepens. "Maybe because she is a foreigner, she wouldn''t be so against it."


    I sigh at the thought. It''s a temptingly real possibility, and the loneliness lures me greatly, too. "Maybe, but we can''t risk it. The odds of her turning on us would be too great."


    And with that terrifyingly powerful weapon she uses, that''s not a prospect I would want to gamble over even with good odds.


    It''s a pity. The elf wanted to treat us like children, but not only did Remmi put a stop to that, she gave good advice on where Mei and I were lacking. We''ve already started trying to come up with ways to implement her suggestions, but I can''t help but feel it would be easier with her guidance.


    ... Why am I so certain that she is some sort of teacher or trainer? I don''t know. I just got a sense of great knowledge from her that I can''t really explain in words. She would have answers to problems we haven''t even realized exist, I believe that, yet it comes from only a feeling.


    Worse, like my sister, I feel an innate trust toward the foreigner. As stupid as it would have been to even try, some fiber of my being keeps insisting that she really would have listened and helped.


    "Alright," I finally say, helping her back up. "We''ll make camp early tonight. Let''s go find a nice spot far enough out of sight."


    We make a cold camp, of course. I can''t make a proper campfire, but even if I could, the light would draw attention from the road. Stations are common enough along the main roads that a camp would draw curiosity from travelers at best, and suspicion from armed guards or adventurers at worst.


    We eat our meat and cheese in cold silence. Mei wraps hers in her bread in a sad imitation of the sandwiches that had been common when we left Dabun, and I don''t know which is louder, my heart breaking at her actions or my stomach crying out in sympathy.


    The vegetables must have been as foreign as the woman who made the sandwiches, or so I assume. Perhaps a master gourmand could have said differently, but I''d never seen or tasted their kin. The sauce, too, was tangy and rich. Though the meat was mere common horned rabbit, the whole sandwich was sure to satisfy even a king with its varied tastes and textures.


    There is no dessert now, either. Where once we enjoyed candied apples and the sweetest, softest cakes even our noble lips had ever touched, we chase our meal with waterskins filled with day-old river water.


    "I miss Remmi," Mei sighs again.


    "How could you miss her?" I ask in denial of any possibility I might feel the same. "You knew her for less than half a day."


    Her eyes are already drifting shut. We really have been traveling too hard. "Yeah, but she''s really nice."


    I sigh again, but softer this time than I did the last time she said it, and on my lips is a gentle smile at the already-dozing face of my beloved little sister.


    Just as we have no campfire, we have no tent, and for the same reasons. It is both because I cannot assemble one, and because it would be a larger object that someone could more easily see.


    This journey has highlighted my shortcomings in many ways I never expected, and not just in combat. It has been, not just humbling, but humiliating how unprepared I really am. And every night, my sister pays the price for it.


    And yet, though it''s been over a month since we first slipped away from the estate, this is the first time she''s come anywhere close to complaining about it.


    I''ll set a slower pace tomorrow, I decide, and I''ll come up with a way we can stop hiding like this every night. We''re far enough away, maybe we could get away with registering as new adventurers, under new names, and join a group that could teach me the crucial skills that I''m lacking. So long as they don''t use a soul stone, it should be doable.


    In lieu of the protection of a fire, I get to my feet and run a long string around the small clearing. I wrap the string a couple times around each tree I use as an anchor, and tie it off with a simple knot at the end. The string sits about shin-height when I finish the circle, and I go back and hang a small bell from each length in the circumference.


    It''s not even really a clearing, I note when I stand up to examine my work. Not technically, anyway. It''s really just a patch of bare ground less than five arm spans across, sheltered by towering evergreens. The scent of the needles that form our bed has become a familiar, soothing aroma from how many times we''ve bedded down in a place just like this.


    In lieu of the shelter of a tent, we share a single blanket and bedroll, our bodies the only source of heat through the night. I get the pad unrolled, canvas side down, and spread it out so there are no lumps and making sure it''s not over any rocks. Only once that''s finished do I untie the blanket from the other side of the backpack and sweep it out over the bedroll.


    I rouse my little sister to get her to settle into bed properly. If she stays against the tree, she''ll wake up chilled, covered in dew and crawled all over by insects. We made that mistake early on, and neither of us have any particular desire to repeat it.


    But once we''re settled in, I hesitate a bit longer, one last concern resting on me. Even if I go slower, even if we''re able to get into the guild and get new identities, am I selfish for dragging Mei along with me?


    "... Mei," I venture.


    "Hmm?"


    "You don''t have to do this," I suggest gently. "You could have a safe, easy life back at Uncle Ettia''s estate. Tomorrow, we could stop at the next waystation and--"


    "No."


    I blink at the abrupt interruption. "... What?"


    "No. Go to sleep."


    I grin awkwardly in the darkness under the pine trees. I should have known better than to question her. She really is the best little sister one could ask for.

 Book Two Chapter 2 - Kappa-shino

    Chapter 2


    Kappa-shino


    *Remmi*


    "Hey, Yellow!"


    Others might have a valid excuse, but I know for a fact that Zeiya knows my name. I''m sure that calling me by my hair color is just a nickname, on account of it being so incredibly rare that the native language doesn''t even have a word for "blonde," but it''s unquestionable she''s doing it deliberately.


    So when I hear the bartender shouting for me from across the guildhall the moment I come through the door, I throw my hand up in the air and give it right back to her. "Yo, Red!"


    She grins, but Ayre just rolls eyes as we change course for the eatery off to the side of the hall. Yorin''s reaction is only to smile and shadow us along.


    "Something up?" I ask as soon as we''re close enough not to have to yell at each other to be heard.


    "Yeah, something''s up," she confirms. "Sales of that new recipe you gave me! Don''t know what it has to do with water demons, but even though it''s more expensive, I can hardly keep the ingredients prepped!"


    "Ah, excuse me," the priestess speaks up, and immediately, Zeiya''s easy grin goes a bit stiff. She confided in me once that Yorin unnerves her, before she knew I was traveling with her. Apparently, the Platinum-rank adventurer knew her when she traveled with Xuhitana, the witchblade that went on to become empress of the majority of the continent. "What is this about water demons?"


    Rather than answer verbally, Zeiya holds up a finger and grabs a cup. The ingredients are all separated out, but close at hand and prepared. The first thing she grabs is a small pitcher of absolutely black coffee, totally different from the dark amber brew she normally serves. With this, she fills the ceramic cup a third of the way.


    Next, she takes a small, insulated pitcher of heated, lightly frothed milk and fills it a third of the way again. Finally, she takes out a second jar of milk and a whisk, and with inhuman speed, she beats the milk into a thick froth. This forms the final layer of the beverage she slides across to the elf.


    Yorin accepts the proffered drink with a raised eyebrow, but only takes a single sip before the other eyebrow joins it in surprise. "Mmm! It is both stronger and yet somehow smoother than I expected."


    "Right?" the bartender boasts. "Something from Yellow''s homeland. She calls it a kappa-shino."


    The word makes the priestess frown. "And it has nothing to do with them?"


    The bartender shrugs. "Not that I can tell. The way her people make their coffee is a little more intense than I expected, and Yellow had to teach me how to froth the milk right, but that''s all it is, just milk and coffee."


    Now, Yorin''s frown is just confusion. "How is it not the same, then, as simple milk coffee? The texture is completely different."


    "Ah," I butt in, "that''s the difference between steamed milk and regular milk. We have easier ways to make it back home, but the end result is that the fat in the milk breaks down into smaller pieces so it gets more evenly spread out into a foam layer so small that you can''t even see it!"


    All three - Zeiya, Yorin and Ayre - are staring at me like I''m saying gibberish. But I specifically used words that I knew would translate! I didn''t even mention molecules!


    "... Remmi," Yorin finally said slowly, "... fat does not work like that ..."


    "What are you talking about," I insist. "It absolutely works like that! You''re tasting it right now!"


    "I am tasting something right now," Yorin countered, "but that does not mean it is something that cannot be seen. Your people are far too superstitious, blaming things on the unobservable."


    I''m pouting, okay? I admit it. I''m pouting big time. "I''m getting called superstitious by a priestess ... And who said it''s unobservable? I just said you can''t see it! Y''know, with just your eyes!"


    Yorin looks about to say something contrarian again, but then averts her gaze. "No, you are right, Remmi. That was uncalled for."


    And then she turns back with that motherly smile that looks so out of place on her young face. "It is your recipe. I should not assume that you know so little about something that you are able to teach to another. Clearly, the treatment changed something about the milk. It was closed-minded of me to seek to lecture you when I, myself, do not understand that change."


    She took another sip from the beverage and rotated the cup in her hands. "Instead, please let me ask you directly. How does this drink connect to kappas? Is it merely a figure of speech?"


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Ah, no, you''re just pronouncing it wrong," I insist with a wave of my hands. "It''s actually a word in a different language from my own, and I''m pretty sure it''s just a reference to the drink''s color."


    The three of them turn their gazes back to the drink as Yorin takes in my answer. "The color ... I see, so it has nothing to do with demons."


    "Not a thing!"


    "That is a relief," the priestess concludes with another sip.


    Zeiya has picked up a stray glass and begun wiping it down. "Funny you haven''t heard of it yet, priestess. It''s been a hit all over town."


    "I am more of a tea drinker, if I am being honest," Yorin admits. "Coffee is dark and bitter, making it usually less satisfying. Further, I prefer my tea soothing, so the higher caffeine is another point of objection."


    Ayre nods heartily. "Exactly! Coffee is way too acidic to be enjoyable!"


    "A lot of that is in how it''s roasted," I counter. "I mean, it''s never going to be as mild as tea, but the local roast," and I glance to the bartender, "no offense, Zeiya, is under-roasted. Or maybe unevenly roasted, I''d have to see the facility. That increases the acidity of the brew."


    "I''ve brewed a lot of coffee," the redhead agrees as she gives a thoughtful rub of her chin. "The flavor of the beans you bring in is definitely much higher than the standard, but I chalked that up to the whole Essence thing. I never guessed you might be roasting them differently."


    "Different breeds of coffee bean can have different acidity, too," I confirm. "It''s entirely possible a large part of it is because essence crops are just automatically higher quality, or maybe the local species hasn''t undergone as much selective breeding, or it really is the roasting."


    "Or some of all of that," Ayre points out. The archer helped me make the first batch of coffee, and has helped with several deliveries since then, so is getting very familiar with the process.


    I nod in agreement. "Exactly. Again, I''d have to see the facility." I cross my arms and tilt my head as I consider it. "Actually, Zeiya, I don''t suppose you know where it is? Maybe when we head out, we can fit in a swing through there. I''m actually really curious now."


    "Well, like with you," she provides, "the roaster is local. You''d think all dried out like that, the roasted beans would last longer, but, apparently, that''s not the case. They buy them green, and then I get them roasted in small batches a couple times a week. You could check that out easily enough, just a waystation or two over, I think."


    Yeah, that probably qualifies as "local" this far out from any other signs of civilization.


    "I''ll have to make a point of that," I agree. "See how different it is. I''ve already got to teach whoever takes over the crops how to use my roasting assembly, but it''s more time-consuming than difficult."


    "If I was running this place, myself," the bartender put in, "I''d ask you to teach me, too, and cut out the middle-man. Since I''m just managing it for the guild, though, policy contracts that all out. Minimizes conflict with local businesses. Instead, if you can improve the brew around here, I''ll make your daily coffee free. Sound like a quest worthy of a Hero?"


    That gets a frown from Yorin, predictably. "Zeiya, was it? The purpose of a Hero is to combat manifestations of evil, not to run errands for people."


    I laugh at that and pat Yorin reassuringly on the shoulder. "Hey, helping people in need is never the wrong thing to do, right? If somebody asks me for help, what am I supposed to do, say, no, I''m too good for that?"


    Yorin gives me a skeptical look. "And you are certain you are not agreeing just for the free coffee?"


    I know she''s teasing me now, so I just laugh again. "Come on, how many more times am I even going to benefit from such a thing? I just want to help because I can!" I bend down to elbow the white-haired elf gently. "If it makes enough of a difference, maybe we''ll even make a coffee drinker out of you!"


    She sips the cappuccino even as she gives me a flat stare. "This beverage is fine as an occasional indulgence, perhaps, but I greatly doubt that it is within even your power to change my preference for tea."


    Another thought strikes me at that, and I lean away to consider it. "Actually, there''s an idea. I wonder why I haven''t thought to grow some tea, too ... Well, aside from cascara, obviously."


    This time, only Yorin and Zeiya look confused, as I hadn''t thought to make as big a deal about that. "Cask Hora?" the bartender attempts to repeat. Of course, I already knew it didn''t translate.


    Ayre is quick to jump in and explain this one, chipper at the idea of knowing enough to do so. "Oh, it''s an herbal tea made from the dried cherries we pull the coffee beans from! It''s got a fruity, floral taste to it."


    "They''re edible?" Zeiya asks in surprise, and the elven archer nods.


    "They taste a bit like apricots."


    "Mix in some ginger and cinnamon," I mention, "and you have an even older drink called qishir."


    But at that, the bartender gives a long, low whistle. "Now you''re getting into high-bar territory, Yellow. I don''t think anyone but nobles would be able to afford it if you made it like that."


    "Are cinnamon and ginger that expensive?"


    She shakes her head. "Ginger isn''t too bad. Pricey, but more like moderately fine dining pricey. Cinnamon, though, only comes from a couple particular regions of the empire. It takes years for a crop to be ready to harvest, too, so there''s a lot of planning about rotation. Even getting a crop started is a long-term investment, since it takes the better part of a decade and a lot of land to start getting regular harvests."


    Immediately, Yorin turns and raises a finger toward me scoldingly. "No, Remmi."


    I blink innocently. "I haven''t even said anything yet!"


    "I shall not forbid you from raising Essence Cinnamon for your own use," she concedes, "but if you start mass-producing it, you will unravel the entire nation''s spice economy and draw far too many eyes to your affairs."


    By comparison, Zeiya''s positive mood springs back into place. "Oh, hey, you do something like that, Yellow, you let me know!" She takes one look at the increasing frown from Yorin and quickly clarifies. "Growing your own, I mean! Assuming you have enough for friends. I wouldn''t mind trying that Squishier drink."


    The mispronunciation makes me smirk and shake my head. "I''ll definitely consider it. Essence crops grow fast, but I don''t know what the turn-around on a whole tree is. Heck, might even still be a year or more."


    "Then it is something for the future," Yorin advises, her expression smoothing greatly. "Hero Remmi Lee has more immediate concerns in the present, does she not? You two did not come here to discuss beverages with Miss Zeiya, after all."


    Zeiya looks confused, probably in no small part for being called Miss like she''s some sort of kid. But I grin across at Ayre, who shares a similar, albeit more demure, expression.


    "Yeah. Time to rank up!"

 Book Two Chapter 3 - Incorrigible

    Chapter 3


    Incorrigible


    Dina, the receptionist and silver-rank adventurer that first took my admission to the guild, just happens to be the one at the desk today. Just like then, her deep tan hasn''t diminished in the slightest, contrasting her long, pale hair.


    "Yellow! My favorite killer princess!" she belts out when Ayre and I head her way, animatedly waving us over. "I saw you and some elf were on the docket for exams today!" She glances to Ayre. "This her?"


    I recall gender didn''t actually come up when I filed my own application to join the guild ...


    Ayre says nothing about it, however, so neither do I, and I just motion to him. "This is Ayre. We''ve been teamed up for a while. Both the monster nest and the dungeon, we did them together."


    "Oh, so that''s why you''re both on the schedule," she concludes with a nod. "Just the two of you did all that? No wonder the old bear wants you retested."


    Dina shuffles some papers around before coming up with the ones she''s looking for. "Alright, just some things we have to take care of first. Yellow, we''ll cover you first, since you''re such a problem child."


    She ignores my huff, and is already grinning for her next jab. "First question! Have you found your rabbit farmer boyfriend yet?"


    Ayre''s face goes beet red. "B-boyfriend?!"


    But that just triggers her to rotate her head toward the elf, a smirk still on her lips. "Oh, you don''t have one yet, either, huh? Kind of a surprise with thighs like those."


    Poor Ayre clamps his legs together reflexively as if to hide them, and I step between the elf and the receptionist to break up the line of sight. "Ignore her, Ayre. She suffers from chronic nosiness."


    Dina''s smirk flashes back to a full grin. "And compulsive teasing! It''s incurable, I''m afraid!"


    "And incorrigible," I retort flatly.


    She actually marks something off on the sheet, though I can''t imagine what. "So that''s a no on the farmer! Pity, I''m a sucker for a good romance! Okay, next question!" She runs her finger down the page a bit. "Is your Intellect still higher than your Agility?"


    I grin at the first real question. "Yup! I found out it helps with the strength of my magic bullets!"


    "Hah! Of course it does!" She glances to Ayre again. "What a royal monster, right, Blue?"


    "Blue," a still flustered Ayre repeats, pointing at himself, "th-that''s supposed to be me?"


    But Dina just turns back to me again. "You''ve gotta train your handmaiden better, Princess! Her defenses are too low!"


    "Believe me," I reply, already resistant to her, myself, "Ayre is plenty capable. We just didn''t expect to be under siege just reporting for an exam."


    "Yeah, yeah." Dina waves it off. "Gotta always be ready, or something. Next! We got side-tracked and I missed something in your application last time. I forgot to ask you about any skills you may have that would be of use to a recruiting party!"


    "Would you like a list?" I chipperly reply.


    But Dina is ready for me. "I figured with a troublemaker like you, it''d be something crazy like that!" And she slides a blank sheet toward me with a charcoal pencil. "So, yes, I would like a list!"


    I mutter a few complaints under my breath at that, but pull up my status to make sure I don''t miss any. It''s invisible to anyone I don''t deliberately show it to, so I don''t need to worry about peeking even from Dina, and since one of those skills is Local Language, my writing translates flawlessly.


    Dina is ... patient. At first. As the list grows longer, she starts tapping her foot, then her fingers. She finally breaks when I go to flip the page over.


    "That''s enough, Miss One-Twenty," she says as she snatches the list away. "Before I think you''re just filling it out for length." She gives it a once-over. "Seriously, Sewer Management? Slime Behavior? I asked you for skills that could be helpful to a party!"


    "Those would be very useful if a big city had a runaway overpopulation problem," I point out. Larger cities use slimes to keep their waterways and sewers clear, so having that knowledge without having to escort a civilian professional would be valuable, indeed.


    "Okay, fair point," Dina concedes as she continues to scan the list. "But you know what they value a lot more?" And she begins to read a few of them off. "First aid, everyone likes knowing they aren''t going to bleed out before getting to a real healer. And wilderness survival, it''s surprisingly uncommon, I blame modern conveniences."


    She grabs the paper in both hands and leans in close to it, though. "Ooh, you can cook? Like, not just a few recipes, you actually have the skill?!"The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "I like making a good meal," I retort with arms crossed. "Everyone feels better with real food in their bellies. And it''s great for morale when you can do more with the ingredients than just throwing them in a pot of hot water!"


    The tanned girl leans over the counter. "How''s your dessert game?"


    I tick off on my fingers. "Cakes, crepes, cookies, custards, candies ..."


    "In that case, if you''re not interested in a rabbit farmer, how about hitching a receptionist?"


    "Down, girl," I scold, thumbing over my shoulder to the still-red and quite frankly terrified-looking elf that''ll be up next. "You''re going to give Ayre a heart attack before you even get done with me."


    Dina adopts a sulking expression as she juts her bottom lip out. "You''re too hard to ruffle, Yellow. Did you level up your Tease Resistance since I last saw you, too?"


    I scoff, crossing my arms again. "Nah, I just knew what to expect." I unfold one arm to shake a finger at her. "Hate to break it to you, Dina, but you''re a trick that only works once."


    She recoils from me as if I''d shot her. "So cruel!" she decries, throwing an arm across herself as if in defense. "Too cruel! Our golden princess has become a tyrant!"


    "Uh-huh." I endure the display with a slightly less dramatic yawn. "Try it with some actual tears, and maybe I''ll buy it."


    The receptionist sulks some more. "Pooey. Fine. You got any active skills that you wanna add, or is it just knowledge and lifestyle support?"


    I consider that question for a bit. My spells and the like are a much shorter list than my general knowledge skills, though they also tend to be pricier. Not just in points, either, often burning through mana, a resource few martials like me have much of.


    "Well, I''ve got Heal and Diagnose," I provide, "but they aren''t as good as from a priest. I''ve got some general utility spells, too, stuff like Spark and Cleanse, but those won''t matter as much." I snap my fingers. "Oh! I keep forgetting since I haven''t had reason to use them, but I''ve got healing bullets!"


    Dina looks confused at that. "Healing ... bullets?"


    "Yeah! I mean, like I said, I haven''t seen them in action yet, but in concept, I shoot you, and the pain goes away!"


    She pales a bit. "Yellow, do me a favor and don''t phrase it that way. It makes it sound like you''re putting somebody down." Then she starts scribbling on the form again. "I''m just going to put limited recovery magic and leave it at that."


    "Got some elemental ability, too," I add in. I''m particularly fond of the explosive-incendiary rounds that were one of my first purchases, which basically turn my pistol into a miniature rocket launcher. That''s hardly the only trick literally in my belt, though, as I picked up holy rounds for undead, and my Paralysis rounds are technically electric.


    Of course, the rounds I use more than anything are simple overpressured jacketed rounds. All of my bullets are purchased directly from the System, and are guaranteed to work with my M1911 clone, no matter what they do.


    I''ve picked up some passive skills that directly enhance its performance, too, though it''s seen a lot less investment than I have. I should see about fixing that, especially the next time Ayre complains about my level jumping. As it stands, I''ve increased its punch and raised its doublestack magazine from sixteen rounds to twenty.


    "Noted," Dina replies with another scribble, then scratches the side of her head with the back end of the quill she''s using. "Wow, Yellow, you''re really doing a lot. Are you sure you''re not spreading yourself too thin?"


    She sounds actually concerned, but I just shrug. "A lot of it came up just because we ran into something where it was needed, or was from when I was still on my own. Besides, a bunch of it is consumables, rather than something I''m using directly."


    "The bullets you keep mentioning," she agrees, "like what you hit Kaido with."


    "Right," I confirm with a nod. "Most of my actual combat stuff is still all centered around making me shoot better." Like the Spiral Shot spell I learned from Ayre, or the Empower spell, which multiplies most of my stats while burning my mana for as long as it''s active.


    "That''s not so bad, then," Dina muses. "It just sounds like you''re scattered all over the place. How would you describe your position on a team in your own words, then?"


    Again, I consider my choice of words, though it''s a question I''ve had to answer several times since coming to this world, so it doesn''t take me long. "I''d say I''m a mid-range, high-speed striker with good coverage."


    Dina chews on the end of the quill for a moment before nodding and resuming writing. "Yeah, I''d say that follows what I''ve seen. Of course, that''s one of those questions that were supposed to be asked before, so I''d normally have to take you at your word."


    She pauses in her writing, and clearly thinks for a moment before starting again. "Oh, and a word of advice, Princess, we definitely want to highlight your ability to take down targets alive. That''ll be extra valuable."


    "Um," Ayre ventures, finally working up the nerve to interrupt, "what happened last time that all of this was missed?"


    The receptionist grins. "Have you seen her status? I completely lost focus when I saw a level three with numbers that high! I knew the normal person for testing newbies like that couldn''t handle her, and sure enough," she mimes me shooting my gun, "kapow, he hit the dirt before he could finish a step!"


    "The guildmaster ruled I was to be bronze then and there," I provide. "That was a week before we met."


    But that makes Ayre wrinkle brows. "Hold on, you were level five when we met."


    That just drives Dina to whistle. "Two levels in a week? That''s not bad at all, Princess. And what are you now?"


    "Ten," I don''t hesitate to provide, "and my Agility''s one-fifty."


    "One-fifty?" she repeats immediately. "I thought you said your Intellect was still higher?"


    "It is," I confirm. "I bumped it up to two hundred. My Strength and Toughness are both one hundred." That''s not counting Empower, of course, which basically doubles my level by increasing everything but my Intellect by 75%, if only for a couple minutes.


    The receptionist gives a depressed sigh. "Those are not level ten statistics, Yellow. And even with a dungeon under your belt, your growth rate is insane!"


    I pull the repeating crossbow from over my shoulder. "Yeah, I figured. That''s why I''m going to be using Noodle Spitter, here, instead of my gun. I figure it''s safer. Is there any problem with that?"


    She stares at the weapon, bewildered at the sight. "... No, you''re free to use whatever gear you want, more or less. But ... what is that? It looks like a crossbow, but I''ve never seen an assembly like that."


    "That''s because I built it," I explain as I caress the stock of the weapon. "It''s still experimental, but instead of having to be pumped every time, it''ll fire with every pull of the trigger, and with way more power than the dinky things you''re thinking of."


    I still remember the one I was given back in the capital, where I was expected to fight level 25 wood golems with it. It was a setup intended to embarrass me all along, but it inspired me to create this beauty just to spite them.


    Dina doesn''t look impressed, though. "Yeah, Yellow, that sounds ... like a bit of a stretch, but you use it if you want." Instead, she turns her head from me like she thinks I''ve finally lost my mind.


    "Alright, Blue, you''re up!"

 Book Two Chapter 4 - Rumors

    Chapter 4


    Rumors


    *Daisuke*


    I have to consciously loosen my grip on the haft of my spear. It''s just nerves, I tell myself. After all, this isn''t even really going to be a fight. We''re just helping to test a couple Bronze-ranks.


    The rumors about these two Bronzes, however, have been the talk of the guild ever since the call for exam volunteers went out. I only received a missive from the guild requesting I come in a week ago, and even I''ve heard them.


    Tales of just two Bronze adventurers clearing an entire overloaded dungeon on their own. Rescuing Lord Ettia''s niece and nephew. Defeating a Level 30 Abomination. One of them hadn''t even been an adventurer for more than a week before that last one.


    Obviously, all of these rumors were questionable at best, but that last one was definitely false. Maybe they''d only been Bronze for a week, but no Bronze would team up with even another Bronze if they were that green. And anyone that was powerful enough to jump straight to Bronze without having been an adventurer prior had to be ex-military or some high noble''s brat.


    But the rumors said nothing of the sort. No, they said that the two rookies were a powerful foreigner with yellow hair and a blue-haired elfin archer. The talk filled my mind with images of a hulking, sword-wielding brute with rippling muscles, clad in only a loincloth and chest harness, and of an elegant, curvaceous woman with sea blue hair and a bow that could pierce a man''s heart from across a battlefield.


    I still my own heart with a reminder that the guild has nearly perfect intel on their capabilities. How they fight, what weapons they favor, their spells and skills, it''s all documented, just like it is for everyone else.


    Ostensibly, the idea is to best evaluate our limits so we don''t get in over our heads, but nobody forgets that the guild is basically an imperial agency. Effectively, the throne has records on every adventurer in the empire and exact details on how they''ve cultivated themselves, should that for some reason ever become necessary to know.


    But I look around the room at the other people in here with me. Guildmaster Kobi is here, of course, but he won''t be participating. He''s only here to officiate and judge the Bronzes'' performance. No, the actual activity of the test will fall to us some-dozen Silvers.


    ... For two Bronzes.


    If the guild really knows so much about what to expect from these two, why so many of us? And we''re not even the main part of the exam. We''re challenges as they attempt to make it through one of the most grueling obstacle courses I''ve ever seen.


    How powerful are these two if a dozen Silvers are just supposed to be a glorified distraction? Can this even be called an exam at this point?


    I''m forcing myself to relax my grip again when the doors to the office portion of the guild open.


    "We''re here!" The voice is that of Dina, a receptionist and fellow Silver. Whatever dark thoughts the rest of us are having, she seems immune to them as she energetically leads three young women into the training area.


    Long, yellow hair immediately catches my attention, followed shortly by the recognition of sky blue locks. Wait, did that mean these are the Bronze-rank adventurers we''re supposed to be testing?! They''re just kids! My eyes go over them again in detail as if they are second-guessing such an absurd conclusion, but no matter how hard I look, the impression doesn''t change.


    Both of them are very lightly armored, nearly to the point of functionally none at all. They have leather chest protectors, but not a kind that would be good against anything more than wild animals. In fact, I''m pretty sure the elf''s is more for protection from her own bow string than from any sort of attacks. There are some bracers and light pauldrons I can see, but, again, nothing that''s going to stop a real attack from a Silver-level threat.


    ... Hold on, are they both ranged?! Just like the rumors, the elf has a finely-carved bow, as one would expect of elfin craftsmanship, but it takes a moment longer to identify what the foreigner is using. There''s an odd tool on her hip that I''ve never seen before, but she turns slightly while talking to the elf, and I spot a strange-looking crossbow on her back.


    ... How in the eleven hells did two ranged specialists achieve those kinds of accomplishments? How weren''t they just overrun and torn limb from limb?


    And, again, they''re so young. Exceptional Bronzes, I could believe, but already testing for Silver? How could they possibly have grown so fast? The foreigner could have been a noble''s kid from the look of her, but she doesn''t dress like it. Elf ages are always harder to guess, but they take on behaviors as they age that this one still doesn''t possess. No, even as an elf, I''d place money the two are basically the same age.


    My eyes go back and forth between them as I try to figure out which of these two kids, each young enough to be my daughter, was the one to defeat Kaido in a flash. Assuming the rumors are really to be believed, of course. The monk is entirely too enamored with himself, but that doesn''t make him a slouch.


    When I finally turn my attention to the third young woman, I immediately scold myself for not doing so sooner. It''s a Sacred Priestess! What is she doing here? I''d think that maybe she was brought in for wounds, but Sacred-level priests didn''t do such base work, did they? Besides, we already have three healers present from the guild.


    And what I said about elves definitely applies to this one. She doesn''t look more than a couple years older than the other two girls, but her expressions and the way she carries herself ... They''re nowhere near her age. In fact, she acts old enough that my mind insists she''s too old for how she looks, even for an elf.


    Something is terribly wrong here. These kids don''t remotely look like the deadly duo of the rumors. Their gear is all wrong and there''s no squad balance. And they''re traveling with a Sacred Priestess like it''s perfectly normal.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    I''m getting that feeling in my gut. I had it just before a wyvern attacked us in that mountain pass. Even when I was an iron, I had it before the goblin raid that left me with a clipped ear. It''s the feeling that we''re not getting all of the information, that something essential is missing, that it''s all about to blow up in our faces.


    But, like always, events proceed regardless. Dina leads the lot of them to the guildmaster to announce them formally, then wheels back to them like a showman.


    "Well, go on, you two! All of these people are here to help test you today! Introduce yourselves!"


    The yellow-haired girl is the first to do so. The greeting is as foreign as she is. No bow, just a wave from an arm held at a right angle. It''s accompanied by a bright, friendly smile. "Hi, everyone! I''m Remmi, it''s nice to meet you all!"


    Yeah, if she''s not a noble, then she''s absolutely a rich merchant''s kid. No lack of confidence, either. In fact, she''s acting like this is nothing but a social gathering. There''s no combat tension to her form at all. I could see her giving the same greeting from behind the counter at a store, acting as if every stranger to come through the door is an old friend she''s happy to see again.


    Maybe that''s the trick. It makes sense that a merchant''s kid would be taught to greet people that way. Tension is bad for business. Making the customer feel at home is essential. In that case, she covers whatever she''s actually feeling frighteningly well.


    Before I can start worrying about that, the elf takes a turn, following the foreigner''s lead. She actually does bow, very formally, hands clasped together, and oh boy, there''s a lot of tension there. She looks like she''s carrying enough for the both of them. "I''m Ayre. Please take good care of us."


    I want to do exactly that. Seeing all of that nervousness, I want to tell her that she''s going to be okay. I want to protect her like the kid that she is, or at least reassure her that it''s only a test and she''s in no danger.


    Gone is the mental image of a confident, dominant woman ready to kill a man at any distance, by glance or quiver. In its place is the reality of a teenager that looks from the big city, fashionable but utterly out of her element. A lot of that is probably nerves. She''s already a Bronze, so I know she''s more competent than her worry is making her appear.


    My own nerves had driven me to expect overwhelming, legendary-looking figures. The truth of a merchant''s daughter and a nervous elf has me stunned.


    Now, the priestess steps forward, approaching the towering, gray bear of a man that is Guildmaster Kobi. "Forgive my intrusion, Guildmaster," she greeted him with a dip of her head. "I do not mean to be any trouble, I had hoped to spectate their exam."


    I''m certain I''m not the only one of us wondering why a Sacred Priestess is so interested in watching a Silver-rank exam, even one as odd as this one.


    "Sacred Yorin," Kobi growls. He sounds irritated, but it''s an open secret that he''s not nearly as gruff as he appears. Just don''t say it in front of him. "Normally, I''d have no objection to a single spectator, especially not of your station, but this is already a very crowded event and a lot will be happening."


    "I understand, Guildmaster," she agrees amicably with a dip of her head. "Would it be more acceptable if I lent my services to the test? I am certain that I remember procedure well enough to mesh with your healers."


    The man that stands head, shoulders and a good portion of torso above her growls in consideration of the request. Then, as if he''d exhausted all of his words on his initial refusal, the guildmaster simply steps back and to the side without saying a thing.


    The Sacred Priestess gives him a smile in thanks and steps past him to where the three guild healers have already separated themselves from the fighters. As she begins introducing herself to them, Kobi steps back to his previous position, like a massive door shutting them away from us again.


    Still without another word, he reaches out and slaps Dina on the shoulder. She staggers forward under the blow, but otherwise takes the clear indication of delegation in stride. It''s obvious she''s already been briefed for it, and in all likelihood, the guildmaster never intended to explain the exam, himself.


    "Alright, you two, the concept''s simple," she opens, addressing the two Bronze-ranks, "but that doesn''t mean it''s going to be easy!" She points to the start ramp of the obstacle course and traces its spiral pattern around and across the training field. "All you have to do is get from the beginning of this course to the end!"


    I watch the foreigner trace the thing for a moment, but she''s grinning. "You guys have been watching us."


    ... Did that mean they''d been running courses like this for training? Was that how they got around not having a defender in their group, high mobility? That was dangerous. What if they got pinned down, or had to fight in too small a space? Though there are sections like that in the obstacle course, so maybe that''s something we''re specifically going to be testing them for.


    Dina puts her hands on her hips and puffs out her chest. "We pride ourselves on making the best decisions for our adventurers! Besides, you were the one that asked for Guild advice on building your little tree house. You should have expected at least this much!"


    She motions to all of us gathered and clearly girded for battle. "Now, you''ve got to go through the entire course, no skipping segments, but it''s not just the obstacles that are going to be in your way! Us Silvers will be trying to stop you the entire time!"


    The elf looks us all over, shaken by our numbers. "... All of you? How is that fair?"


    I''ve been wondering the same thing, of course, but Dina is unflappable. "You''re not fighting all of us, Blue! You don''t have to beat us, you just have to get past us!"


    Definitely high-mobility in focus, then, if that''s the plan. That would make our numbers there to keep the pressure on, and our rank to make sure none of us happen to die accidentally from the bouts of combat.


    The foreigner reassures her partner with some quiet words and Dina continues a little more with the explanation, laying out some more particular details. Finally, it''s time for the guildmaster to start the exam.


    The old bear lets out a bellow, and the girls take off. By the Essence, they really are fast!


    ... But we don''t have to obey the no-skipping rule.


    Dina throws her arm forward like she''s unleashing hounds. "Get ''em, boys!"


    And we charge like dogs loosed from our chains.


    I''m one of several that dash ahead of the girls on the obstacle course. Some keep going, having to scrabble up the scaffolding, but I have a special jump as a spear wielder. The boosted leap sends me a story into the air and clear over the edge of the obstacle course.


    I time it perfectly, grinning as I come up right in front of the foreigner. Like an idiot, she draws the crossbow. Firing something like that into melee? What is she thinking?! Even if it landed, she''d have to drop me in one hit, and then there''s still no way she''s reloading it before she gets caught again.


    Not that she''s going to hit me with it. Knowing they focused on ranged attacks, I was already ready for it, and I knock the bolt away with a swipe of my spear.


    My eyes go wide as two more embed themselves in my chest. Right through my armor. How?! She never reloaded! Oh shit, I can feel it even as I''m falling backwards again, my body weight pulling me back over the ledge. One of them must have struck my heart.


    I''m dying. I don''t even register as my entire world shakes from hitting the ground. All I can think of is the same question over and over. How did it happen so quickly?!


    A warm light envelops me as I''m about to lose consciousness, and the bolts'' piercing pain evaporates from my body. Fresh strength surges through my limbs as I all but spring back to my feet. My hand immediately goes over my chest. Not just the wounds, but the bolts, themselves, are gone.


    I grab my spear from the ground and grin. Let''s try that again.

 Book Two Chapter 5 - Gas

    Chapter 5


    Gas


    *Remmi*


    Our feet pound beneath us, but for every three steps we take forward, the endless assault of the Silver-ranked adventurers pushes us back one. There''s only about a dozen of them, but no matter how many times Ayre and I put them down, they just get right back up and jump back into battle!


    The one upside is that the obstacle course works against them. It creates choke points and hazards that were meant to impede our progress, probably to see how we do under attack when we can''t run. Instead, they throttle how many can reach us at any one time, and how fast they can do so.


    The truly dangerous sections aren''t the obstacle course''s hazards, then, but the open spaces between them. Each time we reach such an area, we can be sure we''ll be well and truly swarmed. This has forced us into a counter-intuitive pattern where we rush through the course''s safe zones as quickly as possible, while taking our time in what the designer no doubt considered the areas to avoid.


    I duck under a rotating wooden pole that bodies a woman trying to jump me from behind, then come up and bury two bolts into the neck of a guy wearing heavy armor everywhere else.


    "Remmi," Ayre calls, "I need more arrows!"


    At least arrows and bolts are things we have a plentiful supply of, for the time being, courtesy of my storage space. I jump out of the way of a massive hammer that splinters the wooden platform into shrapnel even as I will one of the quivers of arrows to the surface of my bag.


    Ayre, too, is jumping away from a pincer attack, and we meet in mid-air. It''s a maneuver we''ve practiced repeatedly for hectic combat as the elf reaches up and snags the quiver from my bag. The archer turns end over end and is already drawing one back to put a spiral shot arrow through the hammer bro while I empty two more bolts into the pincer attacker that didn''t get hit by the bar''s opposite arm.


    As we bolt for the next open space, I see Ayre take out an amber vial, popping the cork out with his thumb before knocking it back. It''s sweetened apple cider, made from Essence crops. In fact, the taste of the added sugar is rather sickeningly sweet, but the effect is similar to an Essence Candy Apple''s full recovery. The immediate recovery is far less intense, but it provides regeneration of both health and magical energy over time.


    Unless I''ve missed him taking one, he should have two vials left. I have three, as well, but so far, I''ve avoided dipping into mine. It''s a sobering reminder that, even if we had all of the bolts and arrows in the world, we''re still on a timer. Trying to keep up this pace, sooner or later, we''re just going to run out of gas.


    I plug another couple adventurers trying to block our path, and the slide fails to catch the next bolt. I''ve been reloading on the last bolt to avoid having to take the time to re-cock it in the middle of combat, leaving one in the chamber, as it were. Even without my sixth sense for the state of my weapon, I know the magazine isn''t empty.


    That just leaves one other explanation. "I''ve got a jam!"


    I go to pull the magazine out of the crossbow, but it won''t release. "Agh, the bolt must be stuck in there crooked!"


    "Remmi," Ayre shouts for my attention, "ahead of you!"


    I swear when I raise my head and see that stupid spearman coming for me again! I must have taken him out half a dozen times already! Of course, sooner or later, he''d catch me at a time like this!


    I was so distracted with the jam that the point of his spear is already shooting toward me. On reflex, I activate Empower and spin to the side. Then, without really thinking about it, I jump and swing my leg out, kicking him across the face!


    I''ve never done a kick like that. I''ve never even seen one like it outside of the movies. It''s probably incredibly sloppy, but my empowered body''s strength sends him back over the edge again.


    "Hey, Yellow!" Dina is already shooting toward me, as if summoned by the melee. She''s a kicker, herself, as Ayre and I were unfortunate to discover when she took out a whole wooden support beam earlier. "If you''re doing hand-to-hand now, let''s have some fun!"


    "Not with you!" I toss the Noodle Spitter to my offhand and finally draw my pistol. It''s loaded with paralysis rounds, so I don''t hesitate to immediately level it at the receptionist and fire.


    She instantly loses control over her own body as every muscle in it seizes in both directions at once. Her own momentum rolls her rear over tea kettle for a couple loops before she comes to a stop.


    I go to move on, but pause when I hear her relax. It''s a deep sigh as all of her muscles stop fighting each other. I can only stare as she climbs back to her feet. Previously, I could count on the paralysis effect lasting as long as an hour, but this was barely seconds!


    "Oof," she''s complaining as she stretches her limbs out, "so those are what you used on Kaido, huh? No wonder he''s still mad about it, Yellow, those really--"


    Dina is interrupted as I shoot her again. By the time I reach her, it''s already fading.


    "Hey, cut that--"


    One more time, my gun goes off, and I grab her by the blouse even as she''s starting to fall backwards. "Sorry about this," I apologize quickly as I grab one flailing arm. With those two anchor points and my still-going Empower, I hurl her over the edge, too.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    A couple more are already climbing up over the edges, but even the brief period of paralysis is enough to cause them to fall back off and retain my breathing room. I run ahead to the next obstacle room and catch up with Ayre before releasing Empower again.


    "This is too much," the elf complains as soon as I''m in earshot. "There''s no way even three guild healers can be keeping up this kind of pace!"


    "I don''t think they are," I confide, sneaking a glimpse between some planks to the ground below.


    Sure enough, one of the healers isn''t even active anymore, down on their knees and gasping for breath. The other two are looking ragged. But ...


    "It''s Yorin."


    The Sacred Priestess doesn''t even look strained. The way she''s running her hands through the air in front of her, I can almost even picture a screen of health bars for all dozen Silvers as her fingers dance across them. Of course, I can''t actually tell if that''s what she''s doing, but it sure looks like it.


    "It''s worse than just the recovery," Ayre is saying. "I''m certain they''re all stronger than when we started, too!" The elf looks back the way we came in a mixture of reverent fear. "Is this the power of a Sacred Priest ...?"


    "If it is," I reply, "then we need it to stop." I sidestep to an actual window in the obstacle room with my shoulder pressed to the wall, not yet turning to expose myself. Silvers are already following us in, too. "Ayre, cover me!"


    I whip off of the wall, gun already trained roughly on her location. I''m automatically adjusting the little bit needed to put her squarely in my sights ... and I freeze.


    Yorin is already looking at me. Not just at the room we''re in, but directly at me, right in the eyes, with that knowing smile on her lips.


    The sounds of the Silvers clashing with Ayre snaps me out of it. I don''t have time to be freaked out. I steady my aim again and, with a silent apology to Yorin, I fire.


    The next instant, light flares three feet ahead of the priestess in a dome shape. Yellow light I take a moment too long to realize is my paralysis round sparks and lashes out against it, but Yorin doesn''t even show strain. She just keeps focusing on her healing like no attack on her person is even occurring.


    A moment later, the yellow light fades and I think I see the bullet drop to the ground, its entire momentum exhausted. The barrier, too, fades, but I''m pretty sure it''s only invisible, not gone.


    I swear again and wheel back to the fighting, firing paralysis rounds into the attackers instead. "Ayre, we''re leaving!"


    The elf breaks away immediately and I fire back at them every time one starts to relax until my clip runs dry.


    I take out one of my vials of apple juice and squint as I down it. It really is way too sweet, but I can already feel my numbers starting to recover. This room has spikes and pit traps, but they''re too obvious to catch us, so doing all of this on the run is no problem.


    I switch the empty magazine for my jacketed overpressure rounds. "I need you to cover for me again when we get to the next open area," I relay to Ayre. "If this doesn''t work, we''re going to have to go loud and just run it."


    "What went wrong the first time?"


    "She had a barrier ready for me," I answer. "She was waiting for me to try something like that. It stopped the bullet cold."


    Ayre is silent for a moment as we split apart to go around opposite sides of a ball and chain swinging from the ceiling. "Can you break through it?"


    "If I thought it was a guarantee," I counter, "I wouldn''t be warning you about the fallback."


    Ayre swallows at the seriousness of my tone. It''s obvious that I don''t have high hopes. Honestly, I give breaking through and taking down Yorin 60/40 odds in our favor, but those aren''t great, and I want my partner to understand that.


    "How loud is loud?" he asks instead.


    "I''ve got five magazines of explosive rounds."


    Ayre pales, but the time for talking is over as we burst into the open again. The Silvers waste no time in their assault, eschewing defense with their faith in Yorin''s healing, but the archer''s Spiral Shot is there to greet them.


    I immediately reactivate Empower and leap over the front line to land on the railing separating us from the inner area of the training grounds. Yorin is already looking at me again, but I refuse to let it shake me a second time.


    "Yorin! Stop cheating!"


    I add Spiral Shot to my mana load and open fire. Even with Empower boosting my Agility higher than my Intellect, it takes several casts of Ayre''s spell to get me through an entire magazine. Part of that is the distance making the shot harder. The other is that I''m aiming for as tight a grouping as I can, to put as much strain on a single point of the barrier as possible.


    Sure enough, it''s still there, and it flares back into brilliance as the bullets collide with it. Each shot makes it glow brighter until it''s blinding and my last few shots are best guesses.


    I can''t spare the time for a second magazine. Even as I''m reloading, I''m turning my attention to Ayre''s attackers. The noise of the gunfire being pointed at them makes them freeze, and the bullets blow holes through their body armor.


    "Ayre, run!" I order, and we break away again.


    "You couldn''t do it?" the elf asks as he comes up next to me.


    I cast my gaze out over the railing before we disappear into the next room. Yorin is still healing, not a scratch on her. But when her gaze meets mine, she seems somehow ... disappointed.


    Did she think I could get through that crazy barrier while being dogpiled by her Silver-rank hounds? Or is her disappointment in her belief to the contrary being confirmed?


    "No," I answer Ayre as I turn ahead to focus on running. I make a mental note of where my explosive rounds are for when I next need to reload. "She''s too strong."


    * * *


    *Yorin*


    The guildmaster''s arm crosses my vision. "Sacred Yorin, that''s enough."


    I allow my brow to wrinkle slightly, as if in confusion. "You wish me to stop healing?"


    "Keep them from dying," he clarifies, "but stop revitalizing them to go back into the fight."


    "Then those two shall quickly reach the end unchallenged," I point out.


    "Look around you, Priestess," he demands as he motions to the other healers, who have all ceased casting to sit on the ground. "All three guild healers have exhausted themselves. As it is, even if those Bronzes didn''t reach the end, I would have to grant their promotion to Silver for enduring your contribution alone. Or did you forget that this is merely a rank examination and not the Imperial trial grounds?"


    I dip my head, as is appropriate. "My apologies for my overzealousness," I answer. "They were doing so well that I simply desired to keep up."


    That statement is ... mostly true. I wanted to push Remmi and Ayre, to examine their limits, but keeping up with a dozen adventurers was never going to be an issue. They are only Silver-rank, after all.


    There is no good way to put that into words, however. It would only serve to offend the prideful, since few of them will ever reach any higher. Silver is the pinnacle for the vast majority of adventurers, the point where they plateau and their growth stagnates.


    Comfort in numbers makes them feel that this is acceptable, further decreasing their likelihood of breaking through. If only exceptional people reach beyond to Gold, and the legends alone reach Platinum, then the average need feel no shame.


    Still, Kobi turns his gaze to the pair already facing decreased resistance. Even with his massive frame, he seems to have gotten so old, so quickly, in comparison to my memories of a younger man, of a boy.


    "Yes," he agrees, "they have a great deal of potential. Of course, one is a Hero, that''s to be expected, but the young elf keeps apace admirably." He grunts - a sound that more resembles a growl. "I am tempted to demand they both take the Gold exam right away."


    That thought puts a smile on my face. "They would fail that one, I fear. They are not quite ready for that level, not yet. That is the problem with potential, after all. It must be grown into."

 Book Two Chapter 6 - Sorry

    Chapter 6


    Sorry


    *Remmi*


    Ayre is adjusting a shiny, new Silver-rank badge to get it to sit just right while I apologize to Yorin for trying to shoot her. Admittedly, it''s probably bringing down the mood, since we''re supposed to be celebrating with a fancy lunch.


    Of course, there''s no restaurant that fancy in Dabun, so we''re actually back at my place, where I did the cooking for us.


    "I really am sorry, Yorin," I insist. "If I''d succeeded, you could have been really hurt."


    But the priestess isn''t nearly as bothered as I am. "It was the tactical decision," she replies easily. "I was artificially escalating the threat level beyond the scope of the exam. You accurately assessed the source of the modified threat and acted to remove it."


    She turns to face me fully, her expression that not-quite-stern one that she adopts when lecturing me. "If I had one criticism of your performance today, it would not be that you attempted to shoot me. It would be that you had a rough understanding of how powerful I am relative to either of you, and yet you still restrained yourself to your nonlethal rounds."


    I mentally lock up at that, at the idea that she''s more upset that I didn''t immediately try to swiss cheese her. I fluster for a moment as I try to find the words to express the sense of appall that fills me with. Finally, my tongue manages, "Well, I didn''t want to kill you!"


    "Which expresses either an overinflated faith in the power of your weapon, or you are permitting your emotional attachment to make you irrational," she immediately counters.


    "Irrational?! I was trying to shoot you!"


    "There were three other healers with me," Yorin replies. "They would not have permitted me to die. Worrying about killing me was an irrational concern with the situation as it was, so allowing it to influence your performance was a tactical mistake."


    "How could you call worrying about a friend a mistake?!"


    Yorin gives a deep sigh. "By speaking strictly of tactics."


    When she meets my eyes again, her expression is much softer. "I am gladdened by your friendship, Remmi, and that it would make you worry for my safety. I would never desire that you become so callous as to act as an automaton, disregarding your bonds with others. My only intention was to assure you that you have nothing for which to apologize."


    "I''m still sorry," I insist once more.


    Yorin turns fully toward me with sympathy in her eyes. "Remmi ... Explain it to me. Why this is bothering you so deeply."


    I take a deep breath as I try to gather the words to express myself. I look to the floor when I finally begin. "... It''s the principle behind it. Firearms are powerful and dangerous, so much so that one of the first things drilled into our heads is to never point it at someone except in self-defense. To never point it at anything we don''t intend to destroy."


    I can tell Yorin is trying to follow the reasoning to the source of my trouble. "This was a combat scenario. The entire intent was to put you in a fight for your life. By your own reasoning, that is when you are to use your weapon."


    "I get that," I insist, "and I''m not apologizing for using lethal force on my attackers." My gaze goes distant for a moment in thought. "Well, maybe I owe Dina an apology for paralyzing her three times."


    Yorin nods to that. "It has been said before, but your status effects are impressive. I am able to glean some notion of the strength of such an effect when I go to remove it. Yours greatly exceed your level, even given your inflated statistics."


    "Oh, Dina mentioned you might want to apologize to her," Ayre put in from off to the side. "She said she''d consider it for an offering of custard."


    I smirk and shake my head at that. "I probably shouldn''t make her wait until I get my own chickens and cow, then."


    But I turn my attention back to Yorin. "Still, if they''re so powerful, they sure didn''t seem to give you any problems. Anyone I hit was hardly down before they were getting back up again."


    Yorin closes her eyes and dips her head slightly as she smiles - her version of a smug expression as she simultaneously attempts to stay humble. "I also greatly exceed your level."


    "I guess so," I muse as I cross my arms, leaning back in my chair. "But my point was, what bothered me so much was that I either disregarded the fundamental rules of firearm handling, or I ''intended to destroy'' a friend. And I can''t decide which is worse."


    Yorin thinks over my words for a long moment of silence. She rubs her chin between her thumb and forefinger. "Well, I think we can safely discard the former. Either you were engaging in self-defense, or you possessed the required intention. Either way, you were in compliance with your people''s rules."The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    She gets up, comes over to me, and puts a hand on my shoulder. "That leaves intent. But you are forgetting something crucial, Remmi. In that moment, I was your enemy, just as Dina was. The world is a complex place, and I cannot promise you will never face a former friend or ally on the battlefield for one reason or another. When that happens, I do not presume to tell you how best to handle it, but you had best steel yourself for whatever might be required."


    That motherly smile appears on her too-young face. "Find the best option with a clear head, Remmi. Worrying about the worst outcome can also prevent you from seeing a better way."


    * * *


    *Yorin*


    I part ways with the children when we reach the temple grounds once more. I congratulate them again and wave to them as they depart, only ceasing when they are out of sight.


    It truly is a great accomplishment that they have reached Silver Rank already. Less so for Remmi, being a Hero and thus possessing a smooth road to power, admittedly. Still, she has taken to the System admirably for someone who had never known it just a couple months ago.


    It is a much bigger achievement for Ayre, whom I doubt would have reached it so soon but for meeting Remmi. The boy is still incredibly young by our race''s standards. That he was already Bronze is a testament to his teachers, especially considering his obvious handicaps.


    Without Remmi''s presence, however, I doubt the archer would have made Silver sooner than in a couple more decades.


    Still, it''s good that they each have found someone close to their own age. The path of the Adventurer, let alone that of the Hero, can grow lonely and stagnant without friends. The mentor and apprentice relationship between disparate ages and skill levels simply cannot be the same. You end up feeling stuck in the elder''s shadow, or you are the elder and feel like you must protect the student rather than rely on them.


    Remmi and Ayre are not merely close in age, but similar in skill level, as well. Not in power, no, but that would be different if Remmi were not a Hero. The performance of her repeating crossbow design was truly exemplary, but was not wholly in a different tier relative to Ayre''s bowmanship.


    Like all repeating crossbows, it trades raw penetrating power for rate of discharge and ease of use. Normally, this trade-off would be so steep as to make it laughable as a battlefield weapon. Remmi''s reciprocal tension design, however, corrects the two most crippling hindrances endemic to the Imperial version: Power and Accuracy.


    Per shot, Ayre''s bow is more powerful, and no doubt more accurate at longer distances, but within fifty spans, there is no meaningful difference in their ability to hit a target. The deeper penetration of Remmi''s design relative to the Imperial standard meant she was able to maintain pace with the archer, as well.


    Of course, once she pulled out her gun, all comparisons of performance evaporated instantly. It is truly a weapon of unfathomable power. My barrier may have been nearly as weak as I could make it, but for a Level 10 to nearly penetrate it would have been unthinkable with any other weapon.


    I tried very hard to keep my scolding from turning into a lecture in the middle of a celebration when she revealed that the Heavenly Artifact had skill upgrades of its own available, but she had been neglecting them. It was probably for the best, in retrospect. Her rationale of tending to her own groundwork first was ... surprisingly reasonable for her.


    Remmi had explained during the meal that the switch occurred because the crossbow had jammed, and she didn''t have time to fix it in the field. Again, that had largely been my doing.


    Still, wear and tear was to be expected of any weapon, and it was not a mark against her design. Even her gun, apparently, can experience feeding issues if used for too long without maintenance, and it was certainly not unfamiliar to Imperial repeating crossbows. If anything, for it to operate for so long without experiencing such a situation sooner is praiseworthy.


    Its performance caught the guild''s attention, too, and several of the people she''d just been shooting with it approached us intent on acquiring one. Most of the Silvers that participated in today''s exam were melee specialists, but they had teammates that weren''t. It would serve well as the main weapon of sneakier classes, and its relatively small form factor meant it could be a holdout weapon for mages and even some actual archers.


    Of course, only the archers and the rogue-ish sorts would likely have any class compatibility with it, but it would still be better for a mage than trying to thump a front-liner with a stick.


    Unfortunately for the inspired Silvers, Remmi insisted that the design isn''t finalized, and that the Noodle Spitter is still a prototype weapon only. So, instead, she has a promise of a pile of bars if she sells the design to the guild when it is finished.


    One more pile on top of the ones she is already building from the sale of her Essence Arabica coffee beans. Thank the System she''s keeping most of the rest of her Essence crops to herself. Especially since most of them have never even been heard of within the Empire. Even those candy apples she makes could put healers nearly out of business.


    Though the guild''s offer is one pile of bars that I really don''t expect her to ever collect on. Inventor types are notorious for never declaring anything out of the prototype phase, never happy with the performance, always tweaking this or that. Remmi seems to have the same disposition.


    I am displeased at the lightness with which the two of them treat the bonuses granted to those that train and fight alongside a hero. It is as a novelty to them, taken for granted. They are young, however, and so early in their careers that it is essential. Without the bonus points granted to him, Ayre would quickly fall behind Remmi, and they would have to part ways or the archer would become a liability.


    It is, of course, the entire purpose behind the enhanced growth speed, to allow a Hero to travel with others that share her cause. However, the bonus does not discriminate based on intent, beyond that of working with the Hero. Unscrupulous sorts, most likely power-hungry nobles, could make use of such bonuses to gain great leaps in power without the risks inherent in a dungeon.


    A naive hero that could be manipulated into aiding them in such a pursuit, then abandoned when the time for battle arrives would be unfathomably valuable to such people. It is for that reason the High Temple does not make such Heroic boons public knowledge.


    Hero Remmi Lee may be naive, but she is not a fool. She and Ayre only shared the discovery with me out of trust, and have no intention of spreading it around.


    They intend to continue their training, and Remmi her elemental stone projects and experimentation with essence crops, until I receive permission to dispatch Remmi. I already have a dungeon picked out in the next province that I feel will be a perfect fit for their skills.


    For now, with them out of sight, I turn back to the growing temple grounds, my inner thoughts kept far away from my carefully schooled facial expression of serenity.


    Those two have work to do, and so do I.

 Book Two Chapter 7 - Wanderer

    Chapter 7


    Wanderer


    *Remmi*


    <hr>


    NAME: Kyuuga


    RACE: Horned Rabbit


    AGE: 14


    LEVEL: 18


    CLASS: Beast Warrior


    STATUS: Preening


    <hr>


    "Wow," Ayre gushes as I share Identify''s blue screen for both of them to see, "Level 18! Good work, Kyuuga! You''re amazing! You must be the most powerful rabbit in the world!"


    I give a scoff at that as I prop my hands on my hips. "Yeah, imagine what he could have reached if he put in the same kind of effort we did."


    The rabbit stops brushing himself as if able to understand me and shoots me a nasty glare. He thumps one foot against the ground threateningly.


    But I just shake my head. "You''re the one who only trained while your point boost from breakfast was active," I argue back, "even though you knew you''d get a point boost from me, too."


    That foot goes thump-thump-thump, followed by Kyuuga giving what I could swear is a huff.


    "Yeah, well, for someone that doesn''t want anything from me, you''re certainly never late for breakfast, are you?"


    Tha-thump-thump.


    "Tribute?! I''m the one who destroyed the Heart of Corruption!"


    Thump. Thump. Glare.


    "My job?!" I cross my arms and lean down toward him. "What''s yours, then? Resident Mooch?"


    Ayre''s giggle interrupts our spat, the elf holding the fingers of one hand in front of the lips. "You two argue like siblings!"


    Both of us look at the archer like he''s crazy for a moment before I find my words. I twist my eyebrows in bewilderment at the idea. "If we''re siblings, then whose kids are we?"


    "Remmi! Ayre!" A voice calls to us from the edge of my property, coming up the driveway. I recognize it immediately as Yorin''s voice, and from the way Kyuuga darts for her, so does he.


    The horned rabbit leaps into her arms, and she smiles as she rubs him down, scratching around his ears. She''s saying something to him, but it''s barely a mumble to my ears at this distance. Probably something about it being good to see him.


    I turn back to Ayre, who looks about ready to burst into giggles again, and brandish my pointer finger at her. "That doesn''t count as an answer," I insist before we both turn and head over to greet the priestess.


    Yorin puts Kyuuga down as we approach, and the rabbit is quick to place himself between her feet. "I was hoping I would find you both here. What are you doing?"


    "Just checking our gains," I reply with a joking flex of my bicep. With 100 Strength, I should be able to out arm-wrestle probably all but strongmen back home, but my physical limbs are still slim and soft-looking.


    "Kyuuga is up to Level 18," Ayre is quick to provide. The archer''s strength is actually higher than mine, all the better to draw bows with weights that would make anything short of a massive war bow look wimpy, but my Agility is higher.


    Of course, I''m pretty sure Kyuuga has some sort of massive racial bonus, because even with his slacking, he posts some of the best times out of all three of us in our obstacle course.


    "Is that right?" Yorin kneels to reward the bulldog-sized rabbit''s "hard" work with some more scratches. "Xuhi is going to be very impressed! Please continue to watch over these lands!"


    "Kyuu!"


    I elbow Ayre with a sour expression on my face. "When he says that to me, it''s a battle cry."


    Ayre plants both feet as if about to lunge. "Kyuuuuuu!"


    Immediately, Kyuuga jumps forward and poses, too, like he''s going to spring forth into one of his big kicks. "Kyuuuuuu!"


    That gets Yorin to laughing. "Oh dear! Your fighting style is becoming famous, Kyuuga! Perhaps you should open a school!"


    That prompts another flurry of posturing as the suggestion encourages Kyuuga to put his best moves out for display. It''s a surprisingly diverse move set for a rabbit. Some almost resemble break dancing as the horned rodent rolls onto his back and kicks out with both feet. Others are more straight-forward, with an abundance of jumping kicks, including an excellent bicycle kick.


    While kicks are, as expected, his most prominent attacks, other parts of his body put in a show. No doubt his big teeth could inflict nasty wounds with those bites, and I''m sure the tackles are no joke when propelled by a rabbit''s big feet and whatever his Agility is.


    He finishes with a headbutt with his spiral horn, his body surrounded by a current of energy as he hammers it into his imaginary target like his whole form is a bullet. He lands to the applause of all three of us.


    "Alright, alright," I say as the clapping winds down. "I admit it, Kyuuga, you''re pretty cool."


    "Yes," Ayre cheers, "Bunny Fist Master Kyuuga!"


    That triggers a few more poses, but once he''s had his fun, I turn my attention back to Yorin. "Come on inside, Yorin. I''ll put on some tea."Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    "Why, yes, please," she agrees with a warm smile. "That sounds lovely."


    Once inside, I leave them to take their seats and I head over to the stove. It stays cold, however, as I instead pick up a box just a little bigger around than the kettle that sits on it. I bring them both over to the table and set them in the middle of it before flipping a knob on the box.


    Yorin is staring at the contraption quizzically as I go back for the tea. "Still experimenting with your elemental stones?"


    "Yeah," I confirm, "I''ve refined my electric burner."


    Those two words clearly don''t go together in the priestess''s mind. "... Electric ... burner ...?"


    I''m too distracted with the tea to be looking her way, however. "Uhuh. Got it down into a nice, little hot plate! Uh, I''ve been cutting down on restocking since we don''t know when we''re leaving. Is wild berry okay?"


    Yorin''s face is still confused about the device, but she manages a, "That would be perfectly fine."


    Since Ayre''s right there to see the expression, the archer takes the opportunity to give a local''s explanation. "Remmi''s people can transmute electricity into any other element," the elf gushes. "Heat and light seem to be the easiest, but she''s said she can even make an ice box so cold that anything you put inside stays frozen solid, even if it was hot when you put it in!"


    That makes one of the priestess''s eyes go up, her curiosity piqued. "And Air?"


    "We call it an electric fan," I say as I fill the infuser with dried leaves and dehydrated berries. "We can scale it up high enough to make flying vehicles, or down low enough that you can wear it around your neck to stay cool on a hot summer day."


    "But you have said that your land does not have elemental stones," Yorin points out. "By what means do you produce the electricity for transmutation without them?"


    I bite my lip, conflicted on how to answer. "Well, it''s not entirely true that we don''t have things that could be considered elemental stones. There are rocks that radiate a type of energy, and we can use that energy to do things, but it''s very dangerous. In fact, overexposure is considered a very horrible way to die."


    I tap my finger against the table as I follow another thought. "Then there''s quartz. It can do a bunch of weird things, including generating small quantities of energy through vibration, but not in useful amounts. It can also be used in devices for sending and receiving messages through open air from a great distance."


    "Perhaps it is the lack of ambient arcane energy in your homeland," Yorin ventures. "Perhaps something such as this quartz is a nascent elemental stone simply awaiting the proper spark. I have never heard of such a stone, nor of the other that generates such a dangerous energy. Whatever do you even use such a thing for?"


    I grin. "Boiling water."


    Both of them stare at me with blank disbelief, either trying to figure out the secret reason for such a mundane thing or waiting for me to explain it.


    "Come on, Remmi," Ayre finally protests. "By this point, we''ve heard enough that we''re pretty sure your people aren''t that simple."


    "It''s true," I insist. "It''s one of those ways we produce electricity that Yorin asked about."


    "... Is there something strange that happens to the water when it is boiled by this energy?" Yorin tries.


    But I shake my head. "Not really. In fact, we do the same thing with coal and gas. It''s not the boiled water we''re really after, either. It''s the steam it turns into."


    I motion to the kettle. "You know how when the kettle builds up a lot of steam, it comes out in a big gust?" I wait for the two to nod their understanding. "Well, that''s what we''re producing. That steam then comes up with enough force to move wheels. Those wheels then crank a device that generates electricity through that motion."


    "That seems like a lot of work just to spin a wheel," Ayre objects. "Why not spin it, yourself?"


    "It''s a very big wheel," I counter. "We do have smaller generators that we can spin with our hands for use in emergencies, but they don''t generate nearly as much power."


    Yorin shifts in her seat. "Let me see if I understand this process, Remmi. You use the energy from these rocks to create heat, as if with fire, then apply it to water to boil, sending the water to the air as steam, and that air spins a wheel I presume is metal to create the electricity your people use for their civilization?"


    "That''s the gist of it," I nod.


    "What a fascinating way of cycling through the elements ..." the priestess muses.


    But Ayre is frowning. "Why not just use the water directly like a mill?"


    "Oh, we do that, too," I clarify. "In fact, we build whole dams across big rivers to control the rate of water flow through the turbines." I tilt my head to one side at a realization. "Come to think of it, most of our power generation revolves around finding ways to spin things."


    "You have no intention of damming the river that passes through your land, do you?" Yorin asks with concern. "That would affect its flow downstream."


    I shake my head. "Nah, it''s too small for that kind of project, and there''s no use for that much electricity, anyway. If I really wanted to, I could just build a water wheel like Ayre said and hook up a couple simple battery banks. That could power everything I could want on this property. But the existence of electric elemental stones renders all of that completely redundant."


    Ayre palms his face dramatically. "Oh, Essence, you''re absolutely going to do it, aren''t you? You''re going to build it and it''s going to power a little alien magi-lab where you do unspeakable things to the elements."


    I scowl at the completely unjustified accusation. "What do you think I am? Do you really see some sort of rabid mad scientist when you look at me?"


    Ayre stands from his seat and points back at me. "The System told you not to cook with those purified bones!"


    "No," I wave my palm to dissuade the attack, "it asked me not to cook with them."


    Yorin''s eyes are shut as a groan rises up from her to form a single word. "Remmi ..."


    "Oh, come on!" I bounce back. "With a description like that, if you''re going to go out of the way to bring it up, how could I not try it once?!"


    Ayre crosses arms as if telling me to walk the plank. "Tell her what it did, Remmi."


    I jut my bottom lip out before doing so. "Status condition called Undead Pallor. It makes you go unnoticed by undead by making them think you''re one of them."


    "And everyone else!" Ayre''s interjection is nearly a shout. "I thought you''d turned into a zombie!"


    "It wore off and I was just fine," I counter.


    Yorin just gives a sigh and raises a hand. "Enough. It is over and done with. She made it once, now we know, and she is going to keep the additional doses she has refrained from mentioning she saved buried deep in the bowels of her Storage."


    "Yes, ma''am," I immediately agree. I get the distinct feeling that''s an order I don''t want to disobey. Instead, the tea is starting to steam, and I start filling cups as I change the subject.


    "So, Yorin, what brings you out here today?"


    The priestess takes a pull from her tea and exhales, recentering herself before answering. "I have received word from the Capital and have already spoken with the guild. You two now officially have a request from the Throne to purify as many dungeons along the western border as you can. You will receive payment for each one individually as you report them to the guild."


    Ayre and I look to each other with excitement dancing in our eyes. As few quests as there are for Bronze-rank adventurers, the motes of Silver on the Serazin Province''s guild boards have proven fewer still. We''ve had little to do for two weeks but train. If we had to live off of our quest earnings, we''d have been in for a rough time. Fortunately, we''ve only been bored stiff, instead.


    "When do we leave?" Ayre asks first.


    I''m not far behind. "I can''t wait to see more dungeons!"


    Yorin chuckles at our eagerness. "You shall have the rest of the week to pack whatever you intend to take with you. The caretaker that will be managing your crops for you while you are gone will be arriving tomorrow so that you will have time to train them."


    She reaches into her robe and pulls out three stones, each roughly hewn into elongated octahedrons. They are dark gray mottled with black and remind me of flint. "I also brought a gift to celebrate. These are called Wanderer''s Stones. Each one allows you to return to the location to which they have been bound. In the case of these, I have already taken the liberty of binding them to your estate, Remmi."


    Now, my eyes are sparkling with a different kind of excitement. Warp stones. Traesto gems. Exit. Recall Home. Goho-M. There''s no way anyone from my homeworld under fifty wouldn''t recognize the concept behind these deceptively plain stones.


    Yorin raises a finger, no doubt catching my expression. "Each stone can only be used once, and they are very expensive, so do not waste them. These are to allow you to return in case of an emergency, or for you to escape a dire situation, not for casual travel."


    That makes sense. But wait ... "Yorin, aren''t these stones reproducing a spell?"


    Her smile makes me realize she''s two steps ahead of me already. "You think to purchase it? Go ahead, see what it costs. It would certainly make travel easier for you two."


    But then why would she bring the stones instead of just telling me about the spell, especially if they''re so expensive?


    Without the name, it takes me a bit to track it down. Turns out, it''s simply named, "Beacon Teleport," and is the lowest level of an entire tree of Teleport spells. And ...


    "What the heck is with that price tag?!"


    The way Yorin''s smile widens into very nearly a grin tells me she had a very good idea of just how prohibitive the point cost was going to be ...

 Book Two Chapter 8 - Guardian

    Chapter 8


    Guardian


    *Kyuuga*


    I watch them leave in their box on wheels, pulled by a beast with no will of its own. The Intruder is gone from Mother''s land.


    I don''t know how long she was here, coming and going as if Mother''s home belonged to her just because she built something on it. Months and weeks and days are a two-legged creation. All I know is that she was here too long, and not nearly respectful enough.


    Her structures still litter Mother''s home, but at least they are useful. She taught a local how to maintain them in her absence, and how to make my offering, so that''s at least an improvement over her as an outsider. The locals, they understand how amazing Mother is, even if she hasn''t come around in a long time.


    I first met the Intruder in town, before I ever knew she''d be forcing herself into Mother''s territory. Even though she smelled like Mother''s mother, I knew immediately that she didn''t belong here. She didn''t belong anywhere. Beyond just an outsider, the kind that come and coo over our children, then trade metal chunks for their meat and pelts. The Intruder is truly from something Outside.


    I don''t even know what that means, but I know it to be true. It''s like looking at a wolf wearing rabbit ears. No matter how much it may look like a rabbit, its smell always gives it away. Well, not the Intruder''s smell, but the point remains. She''s not just a foreign two-legs. The Intruder is foreign even to the two-legs.


    I don''t know what she is, wearing the two legs and walking around like them, among them. I only know that she doesn''t belong. But ... I hate to admit it, but I don''t think she''s a wolf.


    No, that''s not true. She absolutely is a wolf of some sort. But she''s not the sort that preys on rabbits. Not even the kind that hunt two-legs. She hunts something else. I think she caught its scent from the Thing that killed kin, the Thing she recovered the horn from.


    I knew that Thing was out there. When the kin went missing, I even suspected that was what had happened. But I was terrified of it. I knew, deep inside my knowing place, that I couldn''t beat it, that it was beyond me.


    It wasn''t beyond the Intruder, and she went on to chase its scent into the deep forest. I''m certain that''s why she''s leaving now, tracking its scent to another place. The Thing wasn''t her prey, but it was kin to it. I wonder if the Intruder will be able to complete her hunt.


    I hope so. If she can''t, I just know there will be more Things threatening Mother''s home.


    All I can do is use the structures the Intruder built for training, but I have to get stronger. Until Mother comes home, I''ll continue to be the guardian of this land. And I won''t fail again.


    * * *


    *Remmi*


    I''m in for another long carriage ride that could have been over in a couple hours in a car, but there''s two major differences this time. For one, my partner for this ride, while still an elf, is an archer instead of a priestess.


    For two, the ride is much smoother. Even the biggest bump barely registers to us now. I can''t believe I ever permitted going without a proper suspension system and springs inside of the seats! I should give at least some credit to the Empire, though. The way they do their roads basically makes potholes impossible.


    It''s still going to be a long trip, though, so I made sure to stock up on books again. Even though I had some left over from my trip to Dabun Village, I''ve long since burned through them on idle afternoons and before bed at night.


    My carriage-mate has a collection of books, as well, albeit smaller than my own. Right now, however, his attention isn''t on the open book in his own lap, but the one in mine.


    "Uh, Remmi?" Ayre asks me tentatively. "The System translates everything for you, right?"


    I look up from my book in confusion at the unrelated comment. "Almost everything, yes," I confirm. "Anything I''ve got a concept for."


    "... Then why are you reading a thesaurus? Does the concept of a lexicon not exist for your people?"


    ... Interesting that the System translated those as two different words, actually. That would mean they''re different but related concepts.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Of course, on Earth,a thesaurus and a lexicon absolutely are slightly different but related concepts. It''s important to remember, however, that Ayre didn''t actually say thesaurus and lexicon. He said different words that the System determined were most similar in concept to thesaurus and lexicon. He might have even said the same word with different intents.


    I set my mind to recalling what the differences between the two reference books are in my own language. A thesaurus is, of course, a book of synonyms and antonyms, but it used to be used to refer to any type of dictionary, or even other types of reference books like encyclopedias. Lexicon, on the other hand, is literally just another word for a dictionary, but it can also represent more broadly the total inventory of the entire vocabulary of a language. This could include, not only words, but whole phrases and concepts.


    "Remmi ..."


    "Hold on," I insist to my friend, who is no doubt growing frustrated with my tendency to chase my own thoughts. "I''m almost there."


    If I''m right, what Ayre actually said was more like, "Why are you reading a [linguistic resource book]? Does the concept of a [vocabulary inventory] not exist for your people?"


    Confident that I now properly understand the question, I turn my attention back to the present with a smile. "Sorry, Ayre, speaking of System translation, it had an odd hiccup, so I had to consider it for a bit."


    The elf''s cheek is puffed out in irritation. "That wasn''t your, ''Hold on, I''m confused,'' face, Remmi. That was your, ''I''m overthinking a simple question for my own amusement,'' face."


    I frown at that accusation. "Fine, let''s test the hiccup. When you asked about a lexicon, were you talking about a lexicon or a lexicon?"


    The trick, of course, is that the first lexicon is just using the word he used. The second, I spoke with the intent of referring to a dictionary. The third, a vocabulary inventory.


    Ayre''s brows furrow, as if something about the question made it hard to decipher. "A lexicon."


    "First or second, please."


    "Second, but why?"


    I grin victoriously. "Because I used the same word both times!"


    They furrow deeper as he recalls what he heard me say. "No, you didn''t."


    "The System doesn''t translate words," I remind the archer. "It translates concepts. The problem is that the same word can mean several different things. Now, the System will pick the closest word to the actual intended meaning, but that can lead to some choices that are confusing in and of themselves."


    "And that happened with my question?"


    I nod. "I heard two very similar but different words when you asked your question. They mean nearly the same thing, which makes it weird that you would use them that way. But, of course, you probably didn''t. That''s just what I heard through the System."


    Ayre shakes his head in awe. "It''s hard to believe, but at times like this, it''s a reminder that we really are speaking completely different languages."


    "Completely alien languages, even," I agree. "We can basically guarantee that we share absolutely no etymological development at all."


    There go the brows again. "You really don''t need a thesaurus, Miss Collegiate."


    I give a short laugh as I hold up my book. "But I do! I know how to talk like an American, but not how to talk like an Imperial. Reading this helps me see how you might use a word a little differently to how I would."


    But I scowl down at the pages as I flip back through a couple of them. "Of course, since I''m getting it translated as I read it, I can''t look up anything specific." I hold open a particular set of pages and push it toward Ayre. "Is this alphabetical for you?"


    "... Yes?"


    I bring the book back and look the pages over again. "Not for me. Everything''s completely out of order."


    Ayre looks down at his own book as he realizes how that would be the case. "Oh ... Yeah, I can see why that would be a problem ..."


    We''re reading a little longer before I decide to make some more on-topic conversation. "So, this next dungeon we''re going to, what''s it called, again?"


    "Desert Cove," Ayre reliably provides. "Like Deep Forest, it''s a Bronze-rank dungeon, so it shouldn''t give us any problems."


    "Been there before?"


    But the archer gives a negative shake of the head. "It''s a weird one. Apparently, it''s extra dangerous for men for some reason, so I''ve stayed clear of it. Since we''re both Silver-rank now, though, we should be able to handle anything it throws at us."


    I consider that for a bit. If comments like that didn''t remind me from time to time, I''d have a hard time remembering that the cosmopolitan elf across from me is actually a guy. Would it have still been extra risky for him to go into a dungeon like that?


    No, that''s the wrong way to think of it. If there''s some sort of poison or magic that''s triggered based on genetics or physical equipment, then it wouldn''t matter what he looks like. I should be focused more on the risks to him.


    It doesn''t sound like he really knows what the extra threat is, though, which is weird if it''s so dangerous. "Is this cove a dungeon adventurers don''t know much about?"


    Ayre tilts his head to the side a bit, tapping his chin with an index finger. "Hmm, no, I wouldn''t say that. And there''s no real rule that men can''t go in. It''s more that the extra hazards it brings mean all-female teams are the preference. By the time guys are strong enough to ignore the threat, there are more rewarding dungeons open to them."


    "But nobody knows what these extra hazards are?"


    At that, Ayre can only shrug. "Teams that go in never tell guys what happens in there for some reason. Even women that promise to do so going in get tight-lipped coming back out."


    It could be that the threat is some sort of psychological hazard, then. An infohazard, even, though that sounds a bit too much of a stretch. Perhaps it''s something based in temptation.


    A cove. Despite the mention of a desert, the very name implies a body of water. Is it a siren nest? Mermaids? Something that would tempt men to go in despite the danger, but would be of little risk to women beyond physical violence.


    That would make sense, but it''s still just a guess. As far as I know, we''re going to find out it''s the local hang-out for the flower club. I mean, I doubt it. It is still a dungeon, after all.


    "Excited to find out?" I ask.


    "A little," Ayre admits, dipping his head shyly. "But mostly a bit scared of what could cause so many people to stay so quiet about it."


    "Don''t worry!" I assure my friend with a chipper attitude. "I''ll blast any wayward strumpet that thinks to make a meal out of you!"


    He looks at me with a look of utter confusion. Maybe I should have filled him in on some of my thoughts before just jumping to the end like that. "... Thanks?"


    Instead of correcting my mistake, I just give a big, confident grin and pop a thumbs up I leave to the System to translate.

 Book Two Chapter 9 - Fox

    Chapter 9


    Fox


    My gun goes off, the jacketed round tearing straight through the turtle-like creature''s front shell, and the last water demon falls to the ground.


    "So these are kappa, huh?" I ask, walking over to it as I holster my weapon.


    "You really don''t have them, either?" Ayre asks with disbelief. "They''re nearly as common as wild slimes when it comes to larger bodies of water."


    We''re standing alongside a big, beautiful lake of crystal blue water. Scattered across probably thirty meters of its beach are numerous corpses of bipedal turtle monsters. The land has been getting warmer and drier as we head south, so the excuse of a hunting quest had been a wonderful opportunity for a small detour.


    I jab one of the corpses now defiling the vista with my toe. "We should dispose of the bodies, too. If we leave them here, they''ll rot and sully the water."


    Ayre nods in agreement. "There are some valuable components on them that we should remove before doing so, but then we can just burn the remains in a pyre and be done with it."


    I help with the harvesting as much as I can, but Ayre is the one who knows what parts are valuable, so he has to keep pointing out which ones I''m after. The kappas aren''t exactly laid out like a deer, either, so I''m constantly losing track of where I am in the body.


    I make up for it by insisting to see to the pyre. If there''s one thing I''m confident in, it''s my firebuilding. I go full out, building it out of whole logs of driftwood that have dried in the sun, sheltering a bed of tinder the size of an actual bed.


    We team up again for getting the bodies actually up on the pyre, then Ayre steps back as I use Spark to start the fireworks.


    Making sure it doesn''t spread makes for a good excuse to pull out chairs for us to relax on the shoreline, upwind of the fire, of course. It''s a pity we''ve got to get back to the local guild branch office before sundown, it''d be a lovely time for a camp-out.


    Still, we enjoy some goulash I made, kept hot courtesy of my storage container. Ayre is amazed by the sauce, how it''s sweet and tangy with a bit of spice. After all, the elf had never eaten a tomato before I started growing them in my garden. We chase it with a glass each of ice-cold milk, preserved in the same manner, over the bonfire''s last flames, toast a job well done, and pack back up.


    This isn''t the first mission we''ve taken since starting our journey, but it''s one of the last. Before we get to the next dungeon, anyway. We agreed to take missions like this along our route as we went. Since we''re both getting point multipliers, me for being a Hero and Ayre for traveling with me, we can afford not to be picky about the rank of the missions, either. So long as they''re Silver or below, of course.


    Except Wood. Wood-rank missions are banned from even being considered.


    Completing all of these missions is helping our reputation with the guild tremendously, but they''re also raising another issue to my attention. I''ve been holding off on spending my points so as not to pull too far ahead of Ayre, but my total is starting to pile up.


    More troubling, I don''t think Ayre has noticed it yet, but the archer is starting to be the one pulling ahead. The bonus from traveling with me is clearly no joke; he''s basically been in a minor dungeon ... well, ever since we met, and it''s really starting to show. On top of it, since Ayre''s points are still spent automatically, he can''t help but continue to grow while I keep idling.


    I bring it up as we enter the village, a little one like Dabun, this one named Meritori. It''s strictly a farming community, though, so most of its population live outside the town walls on sprawling farmlands. Any township above a minimum size is required to have a guild branch office, however, and the Inuya-Meritori office is where we''ll be reporting the successful completion of our mission.


    "Ayre, I''m thinking of spending some more points," I broach.


    The elf looks surprised. "Already?"


    "They''re piling up," I explain, then grimace as I admit, "and so are yours."


    "Oh?" Ayre''s eyes go out of focus as he stares at something somewhere in the air between us. "Oh! Oh, Remmi, my Archery has gone up! I didn''t even notice!"


    "Uh-huh. I figured it was something like that. And how are your stats?"


    The excitement dims into guilt as those get checked. For an Archer, Agility is their primary attribute, and Strength is their secondary one. For me, aside from Agility, the only one that seems truly relevant to my abilities is Intelligence, though I can''t say for certain it''s really a secondary as recognized by my class.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Oh ... Yeah, those are up, too ... How did you know?"


    "Because you''re leaving me behind," I answer with blatantly false fury, drawing a giggle from the elf.


    "Well, we can''t have a Hero falling behind a regular adventurer, can we?" Ayre asks. "Have you decided how you''re going to spend them?"


    "I''m thinking of upgrading my pistol," I suggest, "but I haven''t settled on it. I''m considering waiting until after we clear the Desert Cove before setting anything in stone. I just wanted you kept in the loop."


    The elf nods in understanding. "Sacred Yorin did say that you should invest in it now that you''ve got a strong foundation. If it gives you jumps in performance like you got from picking up a couple combat skills, you won''t need levels to pull ahead of me again."


    Ayre tilts his head to the side and taps his chin with a finger, an entirely too cute pose with his looks for anyone claiming to be male. "But you probably shouldn''t go completely without levels, either, or you won''t be able to keep up with the increased performance. You just probably won''t need a whole extra ten. You should see where it lands you, and then adjust what you need."


    I give a nod of agreement. "That''s good advice, Ayre, thank you."


    He giggles again. "Well, I am technically your senior! It''s my responsibility to help out new adventurers!"


    I openly pout, puffing out one cheek like a chipmunk with a full load. "Oh, come on, I''ve been an adventurer for months now!"


    "Two and a half."


    "That''s still plural!"


    Our back and forth continues until we reach the branch office, which looks pretty much the same as the one in Dabun, so I assume they''re built more or less to a given schematic. There''s the diner-slash-bar to one side, the reception desks straight ahead, and trophies of battle and hunts all around. Some are fancy-looking weapons, others are skulls or racks of great beasts.


    Completing the entire thing is the map full of pins, and like Dabun, most of them are wood and bronze. Even the mission we''ve just finished up was actually a bronze mission.


    The one downside is the man behind the reception desk. I''ve heard of people who smile like a fox, but I''ve always assumed it was a figure of speech. Surely, nobody actually looks like a fox when they smile. Well, this guy does, and it''s incredibly unnerving. Interacting with him puts my nerves on edge, and I''ve only done it once. This will be the second time, and I had really been hoping someone else would be on duty.


    Unfortunately, while there are two other desks, both are empty, and he''s already seen us and put that creepy fox smile on.


    "Ladies," he calls in greeting when it becomes clear we''re heading for him. "Back so soon? I hope you didn''t run into trouble!"


    "No trouble," I reply once we''re close enough not to have to raise our voices. "We''re finished."


    His mouth moves as if he''s surprised, but his eyes keep the same expression. "Already? We''ll require proof that the deed is done, of course."


    There are two ways to show you''ve completed a quest. One is to bring a token back, such as an ear or horn. Often, however, these can be fraudulently harvested without any lasting harm beyond the pain the act brings to the monsters, themselves. There had even been cases of people breeding monsters that were already targeted for overpopulation just to collect the bounty. I shared similar stories from back home when Ayre told me about some of them.


    And then there is the simple fact that bringing in bloody, rotting body parts is messy, unsanitary, and just straight up rather barbaric. If it were necessary, it could be excused, but with it only being one of two ways to go, it''s no wonder it''s fallen out of practice.


    The other method is simple, easy, automated, and completely incapable of being fabricated, and that method is ... the System. Anyone who has received a class can mark missions in the System''s interface, and it will track their progress. Since you can share your window with those around you, it''s become an infallible way to verify the completion of a mission.


    Of course, that only works if you have a class, commonly thought to only be granted through a sacred ceremony performed by the priesthood of the Holy Temple. No class, no System interface, no mission tracker. Anyone who''s a field member of the guild, however, already has a class, since it''s required to even apply in the first place. I can''t speak for other occupations, but for us, at least, it''s a non-issue.


    He has to drop his squint to examine the window I spin around for him to see, but the expression quickly comes back into place. "Ah, very good! What surprising efficiency!"


    I frown at his praise. Somehow, it feels backhanded. "I mean, it was just a Bronze-rank mission, and we''re both Silvers."


    "At a shockingly young age, too," he counters. "But I meant no offense. I merely did not expect two young lasses and no more to have so little trouble, even against kappas and with silver on your chests. I assumed you had a front guard to shield you from attacks, but if so, he must be terribly shy."


    If his words weren''t so irritating, he''d be insufferably charming. He''s quite the looker, handsome and well-dressed, with mannerisms fit for a host club. Oh, but the words that come out of that pretty mouth! It''s like he''s both flattering and condescending simultaneously.


    "There''s no front guard," Ayre insists. "It''s just us." The elf glances to me for a moment. "Though if we find someone we work well with, maybe we should consider it."


    "It would be a tremendous weight off of my mind," the receptionist insists. "I know you''re only passing through our little corner of the empire, but I can''t imagine how you''ve managed so far, what with only two ranged specialists."


    "A lot of dodging," I answer flatly.


    It doesn''t even budge his smile. "Ah, I''m sure you both are very graceful in battle. Still, it would soothe my heart to know there was a sturdy shield in sturdy hands between you and such foul creatures."


    "Like Ayre said," I assure him, "if we find someone we can work with, we''ll consider it, but we''re a little too busy to hold a recruitment drive. Can we get this paid out, then?"


    "Ah! Yes, of course," he assures us, his expression remaining unruffled. "Give me but a minute, and I''ll have you on your way! You no doubt want to refresh yourselves before turning in from a day of labor well spent!"


    The moment the door to the back offices shuts behind him, Ayre gives a full-body shudder beside me. "Kyubi," he mutters.


    The word doesn''t truly translate. If it were actually translated into my own language, it would be nine-tailed fox. If the System is going to pick another language, I''m surprised it didn''t choose something better-known, like kitsune or kumiho, but the message gets across all the same. Maybe the mystical creature doesn''t have nine tails here?


    Still, at Ayre''s visceral reaction, I can''t help but laugh, even if he makes me feel the same way. In fact, I''m glad I''m not the only one. It will be a relief to be out of Meritori just to be away from him. Even so, I think I''ll lock my door tonight, just as a way to soothe my own nerves.

 Book Two Chapter 10 - Clairvoyant

    Chapter 10


    Clairvoyant


    My nerves are on pins and needles all evening. My head is on a swivel. I can''t help but feel like we''re being watched. Even over the delicious stew the wife of the innkeeper served for dinner, I''m looking around at the shadows more than I am concentrating on my eating.


    Little surprise Ayre notices. "Remmi," he asks as he leans across the table with a look of concern, "are you alright? You''ve hardly touched your stew."


    At the reminder, I dip a chunk of bread into it before popping it into my mouth.


    I know American bread back home is legally cake in, like, anywhere else in the world that cares to define the difference, but it still strikes me how different the baked good is here. It''s a meal unto itself. I''d always heard how bread and water wasn''t the abusive prison food we thought of it as because of how heavy the bread was, and how they were getting half or even whole loaves of it. Still, it''s an entirely different thing to taste it for myself.


    And it definitely isn''t cake. Sugar is a luxury item in this world, and even if it wasn''t, the French don''t exist to start the habit of adding it to everything. The yeast isn''t up to the same grade as back home, either. Oh, it''s definitely leavened, but maybe the lack of sugar means less expansion. The result is the dense, heavy half-loaf before me that tastes strongly of grain with a piquant effervescence on the back end that reminds me of a mild sourdough. The outside is crisp and crunchy, but despite the weight, the inside is soft and moist.


    It''s nothing like bread back home, but I could learn to love it all the same. It''s one of the things I normally look forward to about eating out. The reason is as much how different it is as it is about the taste on its own. Coming from sweet bread, one wouldn''t think that taking that away would be appealing, but there''s something bordering comfort food about the hearty, robust flavor.


    When I first described my impressions to Ayre, I wasn''t nearly so elegant. "Bubbly," was how I described my impression.


    "Bubbly?" the elf had asked in clear confusion.


    "Yeah, like, fermented? Like I bite into it and get the wheat gas."


    Ayre''s face had promptly scrunched up, the archer''s petite nose wrinkled. "Remmi, that sounds disgusting."


    Right now, though, I barely taste it. It''s thick in my mouth and it takes effort to swallow. "I can''t shake it, Ayre," I answer my friend with a negative turn of my head. "My spider sense is tingling, but I can''t figure out why."


    A very similar expression of confusion returns to Ayre''s face as when I called bread bubbly. "You possess the senses of a spider?"


    I shake my head again. "Sorry, figure of speech. It''s a way of describing a sixth sense for impending danger."


    And there goes the nose wrinkle, albeit in greater confusion, rather than disgust. "What does that have to do with spiders?"


    "Nothing, not directly," I admit. "It''s actually a reference to a hero from our literature, who stylized himself after a spider."


    Ayre just shakes his head. "Your people are weird, Remmi." He turns his attention to the rest of the room, though. "What kind of danger are you picking up on?"


    A third time, I give a shake of my head. "I don''t know, that''s what''s so frustrating. I just feel like we''re being watched, like there are eyes on us, but every time I turn to see, nobody''s there, or everybody''s deep in their own business."


    The elf across the table from me gives a thoughtful frown. "How is it that you can tell when people are looking at you without seeing them?"


    I give a wobbly hand gesture. "Eh, it''s not really something concrete. It''s just a feeling people get. A splash of paranoia, a rush of adrenaline sending the hairs on your neck up. Are you telling me you''ve never had the feeling of people''s eyes on you like hot spots of sunlight on the back of your neck?"


    Ayre''s frown deepens. "If I had, I''d see a healer. Or a guard, thinking they''d tried to cast a ray spell on me."


    I give a frustrated sigh and tear off another chunk of bread. "I don''t know how else to explain it, Ayre, I''m sorry. It''s just one of those things, if you know, you know. You know?"


    My overuse of the same phrase gives Ayre a bout of confusion, but he shakes his head. "No, I don''t. I suppose it''s possible it''s some sort of defense your people developed in place of magic, what with all of the monster-like threats you face. I''ve heard some martials get a skill like that. You really can''t be any more specific about what''s causing it?"


    Once more, I shake my own head. A thought grips me and I turn to Ayre with intensity that startles him. "Ayre, I''m sorry, but would you mind if we rented a single room tonight? Two separate beds, of course, but I''ve got a foreboding feeling. Whatever''s going to happen, I''m sure it won''t be while we''re surrounded by people out here."


    Ayre''s soft lips purse as he considers the request. "You know double rooms are more expensive than two separate ones. Are you really sure something''s going to happen tonight?"


    "I''m not sure of anything," I admit, "that''s what I''ve been saying. But I''ll feel a lot better when we''re on the road again tomorrow." I plop one elbow on the table and prop my head up with that hand as I swirl the bread in the stew. "Probably when I''ll be able to sleep, too."


    Ayre gives a concerned sigh. "It sounds like a troubling thing to have such a pushy yet utterly unreliable clairvoyant ability."


    Still, Ayre agrees to the arrangement, and we turn in to our room once I''ve made my way around my unsatisfying supper.


    It''s a small room despite being a double, only a little bigger than the singles. The beds are about the size of twins and are on opposite sides of the room, which is just wide enough so that neither overlaps with the door frame.The room is deep enough to allow a chest for storing our things at the foot of the bed, but all of our stuff is stashed in my storage space, anyway, so those go unused.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Since it''s early, we don''t turn in immediately. We read some, we chat some, we tend to our gear. Eventually, however, we do turn in, but not before I bolt the door and tie a string around the lock with a bell on it. If anyone does pick the lock and open the door, they''ll knock the bell off. There will be no sneaking in unnoticed tonight.


    Despite the precautions, I sleep lightly the entire night, tossing and turning, unable to truly reach deep sleep.


    I don''t even need the bell after all.


    ... The moment the bolt clicks over, I''m wide awake. By the time the bell hits the floor, I''m sitting up straight as a rod.


    And by the time I reach for my gun, a hand clamps around my arm.


    I turn back to see a face inches from my own. With the proximity and near total darkness, it takes me a moment to recognize the bulbous thing as a mask. A fox mask.


    "Pardon my intrusion, little chickie," the figure chuckles, "but you smelled so good that I couldn''t resist slipping in for a bite."


    I recognize the voice immediately, though I never bothered to learn the name behind it. Ever since that afternoon, my mind had a different name assigned to it, courtesy of Ayre.


    "... K-Kyubi?!"


    "Aw, recognize me already? Or are you talking about the mask?"


    "You''re the receptionist from the guild," I answer immediately. I''m struggling against his grip, but he''s inhumanly strong. I can''t even move my arm against his one hand. "The creepy guy that''s always smiling."


    "Creepy?" he asks as if truly offended. "My smiles are charming! Everyone says so! Why, you two are the first girls to walk away from me, did you know that?"


    I grunt as I struggle underneath him, but he''s got my lower body pinned to the bed with his legs. "Is that what this is about?" I continue the forced conversation as I search my mind for anything I can do. "Feeling slighted because we didn''t melt for you?!"


    "No, no," he replies calmly with a shake of his head. "That was just a curiosity, albeit a big one. I suppose I can take a moment to explain. You see, my smile is special. It may be hard to believe now, but I used to be a very homely boy. Gangly, with a large forehead."


    "I swear, if this turns into a flashback ..."


    He ignores my interruption. "But then ... a genie came to me. Oh, it didn''t look like a genie. It scared me. But it promised me anything I wanted. I wanted never to be ignored again. Never to be mocked or ridiculed. And the genie entered me, and made it so. Now, no woman can resist my smile. Not until today."


    The description eats at me, and I silently cast Diagnose.


    <hr>


    TARGET: Foxy Receptionist


    HEALTH: Uninjured


    ENERGY: High


    VITALITY: High


    CONDITIONS:


    - Frenzied


    - Corrupted


    <hr>


    Damn it. Corruption, here? ... Wait, what is with that target description?


    No, never mind that, I have to keep him talking until I can come up with a way out of this.


    For crying out loud, Ayre, why are you such a sound sleeper?!


    "You say it''s just a curiosity, but you''re sure making it sound personal," I try.


    "Oh, once, it would have been," he agrees readily. "But I''m past that. I''ve grown as a person. It certainly would have been easier if you hadn''t walked away, but that isn''t why I''m here. Elves are succulent, true, but you ..." He sticks his face uncomfortably close again and inhales deeply.


    "You smell divine."


    That sounds disturbingly not like innuendo. He isn''t actually talking about eating me, is he?!


    I do my best to keep my voice calm. "Yeah, well, that might have to do with the fact I''m a bona fide Hero! You''d better back off now if you don''t want to get hurt!"


    He just gives a manic, disturbing giggle. "Oh, you''re just a little hero, though! The genie made me too strong! I''ve fed on Gold-ranks, you know! They couldn''t fight back, either. Of course, with my smile, they never got the chance."


    "Great, I come all the way to another world, and I run into a Furry version of Jack the Ripper."


    He hums at my words, probably trying to parse the nonsense it sounds like to his ears. "You talk a lot more than those other girls, too. They didn''t say much at all, actually. They just drooled."


    "I don''t think you''re as strong as you think you are," I barb back. "I think you''re just used to them sitting around and letting you do whatever you want!"


    He tilts his head comically too sharply, as if accommodating for his mask hiding his expressions. "You know, you have a point. Until the screaming starts. That always snaps them out of it. Admittedly, by then, it''s too late."


    His head tilts the other way, though. "But we''re getting off topic. If you smell this wonderful because you''re a Hero, that means the elf isn''t. Yet my smile didn''t work on her, either. Do you know why?"


    I look him directly in the masked eyes and grin. "That''s because she''s a guy."


    Whack!


    The reason I was looking him right in the eyes is because I saw movement behind him and I didn''t want to give it away. Right on cue, Ayre brains him with his bow and a full-on baseball swing that would have made Babe Ruth proud.


    His body shifts off of me and I rear back while triggering Empower, burying a boosted foot into his crotch as hard as I can. The blow physically lifts him the rest of the way off of me and he goes to the floor holding his crushed jewels and howling to the moon.


    I go for my gun and yank it out of its holster, resting on the nightstand next to my bed. "Be careful, Ayre, he''s Corrupted, just like the Abomination!"


    With uncanny suddenness, he stops screaming and rolling about. "... You''ve seen something like my genie before?"


    "Sure did. Let me show you how we killed it."


    I fire, but he jumps to the side. My shots chase him up the wall as he continues to dodge until he''s in the upper corner of the room.


    Ayre tries to hit him, too, while I''m changing rounds, but he''s got one foot up on the bed and can''t fully draw his bow. All of his shots go wide, with the receptionist only having to shuffle a little.


    "This room is too small! We can''t move around properly like this!"


    The receptionist titters up in the corner. "If only you girls had a strong protector to stand between you and me! I''m going to shred the meat from your bones one strip at--"


    "PURIFICATION CANNON!!!"


    "Huh?!"


    A pillar of light erupts into the night sky over the sleeping village of Meritori, and if any had slept through the alien sounds of gunfire within the inn it emitted from, surely the collapsing remnants of the roof would have changed that.


    I stand there like an idiot, staring up at the starry night sky suddenly revealed through our new skylight. Ayre moves over to stand next to me.


    "... Do you think the Throne will agree to pay for that?"


    A groan from the rubble keeps me from having to answer that question, and I go over to clear the remains of wooden tiles from the body.


    "Careful, Remmi," Ayre cautions. "He might only be pretending!"


    A second Diagnose clears that possibility. "It''s safe. The corruption''s gone. His status has changed to Unconscious."


    Only then does Ayre move over to join me as we look down at the face underneath the fox mask.


    "Wow, he wasn''t kidding," I note. "That forehead''s huge."


    "I feel like he''s going to be a lot less popular from now on ..." Ayre agrees as he looks down at the homely, lanky man before us with deep sympathy.


    "Well, you know what they say. Easy come, easy go."


    "Remmi, nobody says that."

 Book Two Chapter 11 - Thick

    Chapter 11


    Thick


    The innkeeper and his wife had been much more interested in how I was going to pay them back for the damage to the building than in my promises to do so. I could have repaired it, myself, but the style is different from anything I know how to do, so the patch would have been visibly obvious.


    Ultimately, it took a runner to and from Dabun Village to free me, a week each way at full urgency. Until then, I worked diligently for the couple as a waitress and cleaner. Fortunately, I was able to assure them that the damage was entirely my doing, and in self-defense at that, so Ayre was free from punishment and we both avoided criminal charges.


    The runner returned with the reimbursement and a letter for me from Yorin. She recognized that we don''t always get to pick our battlefields and the letter instructed me on how to deal with such matters in the future, should they occur.


    Apparently, my Heroic Seal, the large, unique coin marking my recognition by the Empire as one of the five Heroes, could have been shown to the local regent. With that alone, he or she could have had the repairs started immediately with the expectation of reimbursement from the Throne.


    Without going into details, I informed the local guards that the receptionist had been possessed. That will get him a lighter sentence, but I can''t be certain he won''t still hold a grudge against me for taking away his "genie." I can only hope there won''t be any lasting effects.


    Delayed by two weeks, Ayre and I set out for the Desert Cove dungeon yet again. It''s another week and a couple more, far less eventful villages before we reach it, and the entire time, the land around us gets drier and drier.


    Contrary to popular media, deserts aren''t just giant sandboxes. This one is rocky and spotted with spindly trees, thorny cacti and incredibly stubborn flowers. There''s even a meandering river, though the banks are wide to accommodate its exponential growth during the rainy season, and the road is safely distant from it for the same reason.


    Eventually, we reach the final village on our route, a place that probably only exists because of the business from adventurers heading to the dungeon, but is outsized beyond its actual population for it. Its entire main market street is dedicated to selling to outsiders, its inns keep them rested, and the plentiful fountains keep them cool and hydrated. The village of Kaiwoku is close enough to the dungeon that it would be in danger of getting caught in it if the dungeon ever seriously expanded, but you''d never guess it from the bazaar-like atmosphere the city cultivates.


    Of course, being that all of its tourists are traditionally female, the village has styled itself accordingly, with eye-catching signs full of graceful, artsy stylings and a wider array of softer colors. Their tourists are still adventurers, so there''s still things like weapon and armor shops, but there''s no respite even there. The former''s sign is an ornate sword wrapped in an artistic ribbon like it''s a magical girl''s weapon, and the latter''s windows are filled with mannequins showing off how fashionable their armored coats and ringmail skirts can look.


    Ayre looks like he''s died and gone to paradise, gushing over every sign and display. "Oh, I''ve always wanted to come to Kaiwoku! Its styles are top notch, and recognizable even halfway across the empire!"


    I smirk at the display. "You''re acting like a kid at the amusement park for the first time."


    The elf just giggles at my expression. "And you look like you''re going to be sick!"


    I frown, crossing my arms. "It''s not that bad," I assure with a look around. "I just think they''re laying it on a little thick, is all."


    "Uh-huh, and Dabun absolutely didn''t have rabbits on every sign on the main street."


    "Okay, that''s a fair point," I admit. In theory, this isn''t that different, just another specialty. "It just feels a lot more intense when I''m the product, I guess."


    Already, criers are calling for our attention, for our interest, for our tins, and Ayre is looking like a right sucker.


    "The dungeon can wait another day," the elf insists, arms clenched with barely suppressed energy. "We have to go shopping! You promised you would!"


    I laugh and shake my head in surrender. "Fine, just pay attention to what you''re buying. If you buy any armor that''s impractical, you''re just going to look like a tourist wearing it."


    "You have one outfit and a robe," my friend retorts back, clearly getting fired up. "You don''t get to talk about impractical! Let''s go!"


    And so we spend our first day in Kaiwoku as tourists. It''s surprisingly fun, though I feel like there would be a lot less for us to do if I hadn''t made stacks of bars selling coffee beans before we left Dabun.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    We peruse ointments and salves promising to save our youthful skin from the rigors of adventuring. We pose in armor we''d never wear onto a battlefield. We dine on sweets and cakes. And, like any good tourist trap, Kaiwoku makes a killing off of us.


    One thing that strikes me is how gendered everything is. It makes sense, given that it''s a tourist economy and only women go into the Desert Cove dungeon, but it''s still stark to see. All of the clothing stores are staffed by young women, even the armory, ready at any moment to advise, measure and assist. Every service industry, from cafes to diners, is manned, literally. We are waited on hand and foot, no matter which one we go to, by either distinguished older gentlemen or beautiful young men.


    Everything in Kaiwoku is arranged to make women spend as much money as possible by making them as comfortable and flattered as possible. I have to give the town credit for its cunning acumen, but it makes me feel ... I don''t know, gullible, I guess. It''s a very much conflicting feeling, considering it''s working.


    Ayre doesn''t seem to be in any way immune to it, either. Everywhere we go, he ends up buying at least one thing, and rarely stops at one. The only business that doesn''t get into our purse is the valets, an entire business whose sole role is carrying all of the shopping bags for the women. They are terribly depressed when I reveal that my bag is magical and we''d have no need of their services even if we bought a whole store.


    Despite my criticisms, I''m guilty, too. I pay overpriced rates on a diet primarily consisting of fruit sugars, cream and honey, and I end up with several new outfits that aren''t suitable outside of a high-end affair. And, honestly, I''d worry about wearing them there just because I feel like something would give their origin away.


    Ayre and I even get a new weapon each. He laid eyes on a very pretty longbow he just had to have, and I took the opportunity to get a fancy crossbow. For research purposes, of course, and not just because I''m a sucker for bejeweled chrome work. Again, purchases that are probably battle-ready, but we''d both hesitate to actually use, however tightly Ayre hugged that bow as we left.


    We bicker over armor, though.


    "Come on," Ayre insists, "you have to try it on!"


    The it in question is a suit of surprisingly lightweight armor consisting of bracers, heeled thigh-high boots that would probably be suicide if everyone that this place marketed toward didn''t have superhuman balance, an armored short skirt just long enough to overlap the boots ... and, the real matter in question, a reinforced bustier that effectively doubles as a wonderbra.


    I can''t deny it would be eye-catching, but ... "You first," I insist. "If I have to, you have to!"


    The elf balks at the boomerang coming back for him. "M-me?! No way! It''d never look good on me! You know I don''t have the ... the figure for it!"


    Ever since Ayre found the outfit, I had a hunch it was more something the archer wanted to try on, but it''s true, Ayre wouldn''t fill this out so well.


    "I''m sure they have a slimmer one," I insist instead. "Besides, I don''t have the figure for it, either." I motion toward the bustier. "I''m not some svelte Chinese girl! This thing will have my girls perched under my chin!"


    I know Chinese probably doesn''t translate, but the mental image my words conjure has Ayre seize up before collapsing into a fit of giggles.


    We do end up trying out more properly-sized versions of the very Magical Girl Knight looking suit of armor, and I''m surprised to note it''s actually something I can move in. Every class has certain restrictions in the kind of armor they can wear, and as a Gunslinger, or perhaps because of my upbringing in a modern world, what''s compatible with me is particularly strict.


    Between that and liking the look of our matching attire, we end up getting both sets. It''s a pretty bit, since it''s actual armor, but it''s worth it to see Ayre smiling excitedly, even with a face that''s beet red.


    Eventually, as all things must, the day winds down to an end, though it feels like it went by in a flash. We''re enjoying an actual dinner as a break from all of the quick sweets we''ve been eating all day, and even that is in an elegant eating area on the first floor of the inn where we rented our rooms.


    I take a bit of beef and swirl it about in sweet potato before bringing it to my mouth. I chew it and swallow as I gather my thoughts. "I think I''ve decided what I want to spend some points on," I announce.


    Ayre looks up from his fish in surprise. "You found time to think about something like that today?"


    I smirk at that. Clearly, Ayre had been even more absorbed in it all than I had. "Actually, it''s something I''ve been thinking of since Meritori."


    My friend turns more serious as he sets his fork down. "You mean since the attack."


    I don''t even bother trying to deny or hide it, I just nod. "I think I''ve got some basic hand-to-hand skills, but it''s mostly with a blade. It''s all about striking, too. No grappling, no break-outs."


    "Nothing to get you out of that man''s grip," Ayre sums up yet again.


    Again, I nod, this time with a frown. "Ayre, I think it''s time to diversify myself, if only just a little bit, to cover some of the weaknesses of being a ranged combatant."


    When I don''t immediately explain myself, the archer leans forward a bit over the table toward me. "What do you have in mind?"


    I take a deep breath. "I want to go into some martial arts. And, Ayre, I think you should, too."


    "Me?" he repeats. "But I can''t just spend points like that."


    I shake my head for a change. "I know that, but you can practice with me once I get it. Like with Wilderness Survival, you''ll pick it up in due time and get the skill for yourself."


    Ayre frowns and looks down at his plate, pushing the food around a bit. "You''re serious about this. You really want us both to do something like that?"


    "I''m not being hyperbolic when I say I think it can save our lives."


    Ayre still doesn''t seem convinced. "Remmi, I don''t think you understand the kind of investment that would be to me. For you, it''s just points. For me, it''s a divergence from everything I actually do, time I can''t get back with a menu."


    I sigh at that. "I have no intention of forcing it on you, Ayre. If you don''t want to do it, that''s all there is to it. I can practice it on my own. It''s just one of those things that everyone gets way better at with a partner, and it''s got benefits of its own even if you never have to actually use it in a fight."


    I put a hand across the table to get Ayre''s attention and look the elf in the eyes. "Please, just think about it, alright?"


    After a moment, Ayre nods back. "I will, promise."

 Book Two Chapter 12 - Fourteen

    Chapter 12


    Fourteen


    *Mataru*


    We''ve been on the road for months now. Even our traveling clothes are worn through and our shoes desperately need replacing. We''re dirty, and our once clean-cut and conditioned hair has gone wild, like shrubs neglected by their gardener. We truly look the part of ragged orphans now, and our savings have all but dried up.


    If Mei and I are to enact my plan of becoming adventurers under new names, it must be now, else we''ll be thieves instead come another month. We''ll not look any less like ourselves for waiting than we already do, either.


    This is our last opportunity to evade our uncle and continue to build the skills we need to avenge our parents. If we fail to fool those looking for us, we''ll rot in a gilded cage while our mother suffers and our father''s killers go free.


    If we believed our current appearance beneficial, we would go in as dirty as we are, all the more to distance ourselves from our noble heritage. The guild would likely reject us as street urchins rather than take us seriously, however, so we stop by a local river to bathe. I stand guard while my sister goes first, then she changes to cleaner clothes and begins to wash the ones that we were wearing while I take my turn in the frigid waters.


    We aren''t as clean as we would be with soap, a real bath and proper hair care, but we''re cleaner than we''ve been in a long time. My hair is heavy with water, but we have no towels, so like my sister, I shake it out like a dog. It''s the only thing we can do with it. I run my fingers through first her hair, then mine, trying to get as many knots out of both as I possibly can. By that time, the sun has done most of the rest of the work on both our bodies and our clothes.


    We eat the last of our provisions and refill our waterskins from the river, going over the plan once more as we do so. Mei will be Ayumi, and from this day forth, until my parents are avenged, I will be Arisu. Both names sound suitably common, but mine refers to our heritage, the place we once resided, and hers, to the distance we''ve traveled. Names carry power in their meaning, our father taught us that, and so we take names to ensure we never forget where we''ve come from.


    That we both have classes despite our ages would be too much of a give-away that we''re nobles, so for the time being, we''ll be pretending that Ayumi doesn''t have one. That means that I''ll be the only one becoming an adventurer. That doesn''t mean she won''t still be training, however, and when I can save up enough to pay for her to supposedly receive her class, she''ll be praised as a prodigy.


    Too much will depend on what happens after that to make much in the way of plans. I could spend a year plotting out what to do if I can''t find a teacher quickly enough, or if they don''t believe me, or if we''re ever discovered. We''re at a point where we no longer have time for what-ifs.


    So we finish reviewing what we can plan for and then we separate ourselves from the last physical link to our past. Mei blows a hole in the side of a cliff with her fire magic, a task much easier than doing so to that troublesome golem, and we stuff our last identifying belongings inside. Our noble attire, our equipment that our parents purchased for us, and, with the greatest hesitation, our family lockets, they''re all stashed inside. Finally, I cover the hole with a large rock and move some foliage around to make it look like everything belongs there.


    And then, it''s off to the nearest town, and the guild hall within.


    * * *


    "Welcome to the Mopoki-Hathi Branch of the Independent Exploration Service Guild!" The pink-haired receptionist leans over the counter to look at us with a brilliant smile. "Oh, aren''t you two adorable! Are you looking for someone, hons?"


    Oh, wonderful, she''s a ditz.


    I look around at the rest of the people in the guildhall. It''s uncomfortable being the center of attention, and it probably looks more like the insecurity of a child in a room full of scary strangers. In truth, I''m just worried we might be found out, but all of the expressions are those of curiosity or preemptive concern at seeing two children come in alone.


    I bring my attention back to the receptionist, careful not to let my gaze linger on anyone around us. "No, we''re not here for anyone," I insist. "I want to register as an adventurer."


    Her gaze sharpens for just half a heartbeat, just enough to make my own heart stop as I second guess how much of a pushover she might be. But then it''s gone again as fast as it came, and she''s all smiles again.


    "Got parental permission?"The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    So that''s what it was, it''s because we''re young. That was something we already anticipated, but did her eyes have to get so sharp over it? I felt like I was about to be under attack ...


    "They''re gone," I reply, going with the backstory Mei and I put together. "It''s just me and my sister now." I put my hand on her shoulder. "And I don''t want her living on the street or having to steal to survive."


    The receptionist''s gaze softens at the story. I only wish it were more of a lie. Of course, if it were, it wouldn''t be necessary in the first place. "Wanting to provide for your little sister ... That''s awfully responsible of you. But we need to know what happened for your records. Are you up to telling us?"


    I nod and make a show of steeling myself. "Monsters," I say simply at first, then inhale before continuing. "They were merchants, but they went off the highway to try to save some time." Now for a little more truth, albeit out of context. "It''s thanks to them that Ayumi and I managed to escape."


    "How sad ..." The receptionist sniffs. "But if they were merchants, surely you have retainers to take care of you?"


    I shake my head. "They weren''t that big. They took us everywhere with them. And we had to abandon the wagon to escape. It''s surely been ruined by now. We have nothing to our names but what you see on us."


    And a magic backpack, but we''re keeping that a secret.


    I decide to give the conversation a little push to get us back on track. "I just want to register as an adventurer. Can we get back to that, please?"


    "Right, right." The woman makes a visible attempt at rallying herself, even clapping her own cheeks, and pulls out a form. "Name?"


    "Arisu."


    There''s some chuckles from the other adventurers for some reason, but the receptionist''s glare has more utility than I expected, and they choke to silence quickly.


    "Air-ih-soo," she sounds out as she writes it down, almost as if she wants everyone to clearly hear the pronunciation. Did I pronounce it poorly when I said it? No, I don''t think so. There must be some other miscommunication to which I am not privvy. "Age?"


    "Fourteen," I lie through my teeth and pray they don''t have a soul orb to double-check.


    There''s that sharp look again from her, but I suppress the urge to flinch it instills in me. Again, I''m second-guessing my initial assumption of her aloof nature.


    "Fourteen," she repeats. "Do you even have a class?"


    Oh, thank the Essence, it was only about my class. "Yes, I do. It was a gift for my birthday." I glance to Mei. "I''ll have to save up for Ayumi''s, myself, now ..."


    That gets her gaze to soften again. "I see ... Highest attribute, then?"


    "Agility."


    "Mhm." With a bit more of a teasing tone, she asks, "And is it a thieving class?"


    A callback to my concern about stealing to survive, no doubt. In any case, I shake my head. "No, I''m a Fencer."


    "Ooh, classy," she coos. "You''ll sweep some girls off their feet with that kind of style one of these days."


    Yeah, not even a priority. I don''t even say anything, just dip my head away at the teasing.


    "Level?" she asks next.


    "Ten."


    "At fourteen?" I don''t understand why she keeps stressing that word like that. "That''s very impressive."


    "Our parents trained us while we traveled," I explain. It''s not even entirely untrue. Though I had a swordsmanship tutor, my father made sure to personally test my progress regularly. The thought almost makes me tear up for his absence. From the way her face softens again, I must have let it show, so I force the sentiment down again. "We''ve even already been to a dungeon."


    "I can tell your parents cared a great deal about you both," she says sympathetically. "Let''s get through this application, okay? Do you have any traits?"


    "No."


    "Relevant skills to interest a party?"


    I hesitate at that, hoping what I say next won''t be an issue. "Actually, I''m hoping to find someone willing to teach me some."


    She puts on that bright smile again. "That''s a good attitude to have, and you''re in the right place!" She starts writing again. "I''ll just put, looking for mentorship. There''ll be somebody interested in helping you out with that! If not, the guild offers lessons and workshops, too."


    The receptionist seems almost overeager to help us out, but I suppose that''s her job.


    "Thanks," I answer, consciously reminding myself not to speak too properly. "Anything else?"


    "Do you have your own gear?"


    I shake my head. "No, ma''am. I had a training sword, but it was left ... well ... behind."


    "Well, they aren''t the best quality, and you''ll want to save up to replace them as soon as possible," she disclaims, "but the guild does have some basic gear available for sale. One tin per piece."


    I fish into my pockets. We have just enough to eat for a week if we keep it light and basic, but this will at least make sure that I can earn more, so it''s an investment. "Can I get a saber and a buckler?"


    She thinks for a moment. "Mmm, a buckler, definitely, but I can''t guarantee a saber. A dao or a smallsword is probably more reasonable."


    I nod, that''s better than I could have hoped for. "Either of those will work." Any other type of sword of similar length to my saber would likely be too awkward for me to use. I''ll have to settle for something with less reach, but it''ll help me avoid overextending, anyway. Besides, I always had to strap my saber to my back for it to fit, anyway.


    I place the coins on the counter, and she gives a big smile and slips them into a drawer. "Great! I''ll get those for you right away! But first, here''s your badge! Congratulations on becoming a Wood-rank adventurer, hon!"


    I turn the literal wooden token over in my hand with disbelief. Only wood?! But I''m level ten! I turn back to her, the confusion evident on my face. "Really? Am I so weak?"


    Her smile is understanding. "Sorry, hon, but those are the rules. I know you''re level ten, and I didn''t lie when I said that was impressive for you, but it wouldn''t matter if you were level fifty. You can''t rank up until you turn fifteen. If you budget well, Wood will pay for you and your sister until then."


    My face must look crestfallen, because she reaches down and pinches my cheek. "Aww, don''t look so down, hon! I''m sure as soon as you turn fifteen, you''ll jump right up to Iron rank! If you work hard, you might even make Bronze by then!"


    I try very hard not to react poorly to the intrusive sign of affection. "Is there any chance we can just change my age on my application to fifteen now?"


    The receptionist''s smile widens again as if in amusement, but at the same time, her eyes sharpen again. "Don''t get too full of yourself, hon. You''re already pushing your luck pretty hard as it is, don''t you think?"


    I swallow before I can stop myself. Yes, I was definitely mistaken when I took her for a fool.


    "Wood will be fine, ma''am, thank you for your assistance."

 Book Two Chapter 13 - Newbie

    Chapter 13


    Newbie


    *Mataru*


    I run my hand up and down the side of the sheath of my new sword as I examine the wood-rank missions on the board. The receptionist wasn''t dishonest when she said it wasn''t of great quality. I''m going to have to put some savings toward a proper whetstone and give it a thorough sharpening, but it will do to defend myself until then.


    The buckler, too, is the very definition of basic. I''ll have to be careful how much I trust it with my life. Maybe I can get someone to teach me how to make my own. It would be a useful skill, so it would be a step toward that goal, it would make me more useful to a team, and I would be able to make sure my gear was always up to par.


    Of course, I still want Wilderness Survival, too, and I''m willing to bet field dressing and butchering animals and monsters is its own skill. Hopefully, Mei will be able to pick up skills like cooking and mending so that I don''t have to do all of it myself. She already has some groundwork in that regard, since she would occasionally help Mother with such tasks.


    The tasks on the board that fall within my new rank are menial, with paltry sums as rewards, but it''s true that they''ll pay to feed my sister and I both, if only just. The best we''ll be able to rent is a barn loft, though, so it might still be camping for us, but some civilization is better than none. My birthday, though I will be only thirteen in truth, is the better half of the year away, so we will simply have to make do until then.


    Herb picking is a simple option that will also help me gain more knowledge about survival by teaching me what is valuable and what is a worthless weed. Logging is available in the area, as well, but I don''t own an ax and I don''t dare loose another tin without it being essential. I could do the herb picking today, then use the pay from that to buy an ax tomorrow if I really wanted to get in some physical training, too.


    "Hey, Newbie!"


    I turn toward the voice since it''s close behind me, and Mei looks up from the juice the receptionist purchased for her. The word isn''t accompanied by a sharp tone, as one would deliver an insult, and the people I see waiting for me look cheerful and friendly.


    There''s four of them, two men and two women, all of them over fifteen but, if I had to guess, under twenty-five. The one who seems to be in front, likely the one that addressed me, has a curved sword at his hip and his black hair is in a ponytail. The one behind him is in leather and has a pair of shorter swords. One of the women is an archer and the other is presumably a mage.


    "Sorry," I greet them, "were you talking to me?"


    "Yeah, uh, Alice, right?"


    His face says he doesn''t mean anything by it, and it does sound a lot like Arisu. Is that why the adventurers started chuckling before? They misheard my name? That would explain a lot.


    "Arisu," I correct him, opting not to take offense until I have better reason to do so. "Yes, that''s me." I look to their chests and see badges of iron there, except for the one addressing me who has a bronze one. "I''m just a Wood rank, though, so I don''t know what I can do for you."


    He rubs the back of his neck. "Ah, no, see, that''s backwards."


    "Backwards?"


    "Yeah, Missa was saying you were looking for someone to take you under their wing?" he asks. "That''s kinda what our group was built on, so she figured we''d be willing to give you a hand and asked us to scope you out."


    "Missa?" I feel left out of the loop having to ask so many questions.


    "Ah, pink hair, bright smile, big--" He starts reaching toward his chest for some reason, but the archer cuts in.


    "Don''t finish that sentence, Tan."


    "Ah, right, right!" Instead of whatever he was going to say, he rubs the back of his neck again.


    It takes me a moment, but then I realize who he must be talking about. "Oh! You mean the receptionist!"


    "Yeah, she''s one of them," he immediately agrees. "Is she the only one you''ve dealt with?"


    I nod. "So far, all I''ve done is file my application and pick up some basic equipment." I pat the sheath of my new sword.


    Tan gets a look on his face like I''ve caused him physical harm. "Yeah, that stuff from the guild ... it''s ... I mean, if you''ve got nothing else, it''s better than a punch to the face, but it''s really there to help support novice smiths ..."If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "It doesn''t matter," I assure him with a shake of my head. "For now, it''s all that I can afford, so I''ll take it over the punch to the face, thanks."


    The swordsman cracks a grin at that and gives a short laugh. "You''ve got a good sense of humor, kid! Anyway, yeah, Missa asked us to check you out, see how you''d mesh with us, if you''re interested."


    This guy really isn''t giving me much to work with, is he? Maybe it''s something that he just assumes is self-explanatory? I decide to ask some more questions. "Should I be interested? I don''t really understand what you''re offering, here. Some sort of apprenticeship?"


    "A bit apprenticeship," Tan admits, "a bit probationary team member. You learn what it''s like to work as part of a team, we teach you various skills that''ll help you get another team later on if you decide you don''t want to stick around."


    "And what skills can I learn from you guys?"


    "Iana knows Wilderness Survival, that''s pretty rare," he opens, and I''m already sold, but I wait for him to finish. "Aiele can teach you some magic support skills if you''ve got an interest in that sort of thing. Mitoro does our weapon maintenance and knows some basic leather and smithing he can teach you, and I specialize in using most sorts of weapons, so I''d be your trainer for actual combat stuff."


    This seems almost too perfect to be true. "What would be required of me? Like I said, I''m only Wood-rank."


    "That''s not a problem," Tan assures me. "If you can''t fight well enough yet, you''ll do things like carry gear and other support roles until your training reaches a point where you can."


    The archer, who I assume to be Iana, speaks up. "And we''ve got our own place. Your sister''s fine to stay there even while we''re out and about if she''s up to a little housework."


    "Does that mean I''d be going on missions with you?"


    They all nod, and Tan explains. "If you''re with a party, you can take missions up to the average rank of the group. With us, that means you can take Iron-rank missions. Of course, that also means the pay''s split five ways, but that''s still better than Wood missions. Which you''re still free to do on your own time if you want, they''re good for building up your basics."


    They''ve made this kind of offer before, I realize, but that doesn''t mean it''s bad. It might have even been how they built their party.


    "This sounds like an amazing offer," I admit, "but would you be offended if I check with the receptionist first?"


    Rather than getting offended, they chuckle. "Worried we''re targeting newbies with bad deals? Yeah, heard that before."


    "One girl hit you in the head with her staff when you offered," the mage, Aiele if I''m tracking them correctly, shares smugly.


    Tan scowls over at her. "Hey, that mystery girl was you!" He held a hand to his forehead as if remembering the blow. "You even called me a pervert!"


    The man in leather, presumably Mitoro, laughs at what I can only assume is the normal back-and-forth energy and antics of the group. "Yeah, sure, by all means, do your due diligence and double check with reception. We''ll wait."


    I nod to him, then guide Mei out of her seat and out and around the now quieter duo. We make our way back to the desks at the front of the guild hall.


    I find the pink-haired one from before. She has her back to us, dealing with some paperwork, and isn''t actually manning one of the desks. "Missa?" I try anyway.


    "That''s me!" she says as she spins around. She takes a moment to settle her eyes on us, then grins brightly again. "Hey, it''s the cuties! You''re back! Something up? I''m not on desk duty right now, but if you''ve picked out your first mission, one of the other girls can help you!"


    Cuties. I hope that doesn''t end up sticking as our nickname. It''s fine for Mei, I suppose, and perhaps it''s childish of me, but I''d hope to earn something a little more ... intimidating.


    "No, actually, it''s about something else," I correct her. "There''s a group that approached us, claiming that they were sent by you. I just wanted to make sure that they were telling the truth."


    I turn and point back to Tan''s group, who are apparently gossiping among themselves about something with energetic zeal. They notice us pointing them out, anyway, however, and they all wave back.


    "Oh, yes, Tan''s group," she nods along, still all smiles, and she even takes the time to return their wave. "They do a lot to help new adventurers. They''ve made a name for themselves doing it."


    "So you did send them?"


    She nods. "I did! I shared that you were looking for someone to teach you some skills and were interested in learning about higher-rank missions, and asked that they consider you. Oh, but only because you expressed such interest to me. Rest assured that your records are kept confidential."


    I blink at the extra explanation, but she seems to think it''s because I didn''t understand, because she leans down to me and explains, "That means we keep it secret. We don''t even tell anyone you''re fourteen." She even says it this time with air quotes.


    Because, thanks, I still wholly had failed to get the message that she is seeing through that. I suppose I should be grateful that she filed my application at all. It was probably out of pity for us being on our own and because I already had a class.


    "Then thank you very much," I say instead with a short bow of my head. "They sound like a great opportunity."


    She giggles and waves me off. "Oh, what a gentleman! It''s not a problem, helping connect adventurers is part of our job here, after all!"


    This isn''t a decision I can make on my own, however. I turn to look at Mei. "What do you think, Ayumi? They''ll be asking things of you, too, after all. Do we do it?"


    My sister has always been one of few words, but strong emotions, even if those emotions don''t always get blatantly displayed. Here, she simply nods before lowering her juice that she''s still sipping on. "I want a bed," is all she says.


    I smile back at her. "Then you''ll have it." Then back at the receptionist. "Thank you again, Missa!"


    The women of the party seem even more enthusiastic than they did when we left, now that we''re returning. "So?" Aiele asks. "Did we pass inspection?"


    "Yes," I confirm, "I''m sorry for second-guessing you." Then I turn my attention back to Tan, who seems to be their leader. "I would graciously accept your offer, if you''ll have me."


    Iana gives a fist pump into the air. "Yeah!" she cheers enthusiastically before also wheeling toward Tan. "That means a shopping trip! We can''t have team members going around in rags! You promised!"


    So the truth comes out, that''s what they were talking about while we were gone. At the prospect of new clothes, I notice Ayumi perking up, too, so maybe this will be a good thing ...

 Book Two Chapter 14 - Beach

    Chapter 14


    Beach


    *Remmi*


    One thing that had stuck out as odd about Kaiwoku was the abundance of fresh fish and sea salt, two things you don''t really expect to find in the desert. There''s the river that brings life to the town, but that alone could never account for the variety that had been on display, and besides that, it''s a freshwater river. It could never be the source of the abundant salt the city liberally used in its cuisine while still having plenty to sell on shelves.


    Actually, salt was one of the cheaper things for sale in town, and I took the opportunity to stock up on it. Sea salt isn''t in particularly short supply in the empire, but we''re pretty far inland, so the markdown was appreciated.


    Still, the mystery of where all of this was coming from remained unsolved. Until, suddenly, we smell it. The wind changes abruptly from dry and scorching-hot to cool and moist, from nothing but dust in our noses to the tang of sea water in the air.


    I don''t need Ayre to tell me that we''ve entered the dungeon''s domain, but when we cross the next rise, I''m still dumbstruck by the sight.


    The tourism industry of Kaiwoku didn''t stop with the town. What rolls out before our eyes is nothing less than a fully catered beach. Even from here, I can see people swimming in the crystal-blue waters, and, further away, far enough to avoid mixing aromas, I see a line of fishing docks where boats bring in their catches of dungeon-spawned seafare.


    In the moment it takes me to realize that I didn''t see any stores in town selling swimsuits, I spot a handful of stands doing just that. How cunning, to capitalize on the refreshing vista right when the impulse would be the strongest. As much credit as I''ve given the pirate merchants of Kaiwoku, I clearly haven''t given them enough.


    Aside from swimming attire, there are several bars spread out across the beach and a number of places selling cork flotation devices and wooden beach toys. Bamboo umbrellas scattered about to provide shade to those resting from their play complete the aesthetic. I doubt I could find any better-mercantiled beachfront even back home.


    The light is already sparkling in Ayre''s eyes like the dancing waters reflecting the sunlight, but, with reluctance, I put a hand on his shoulder. "We''ll save it for celebrating our clearing of the dungeon," I propose. "We''ve put it off long enough."


    The cliche of a beach scene sticks in my mind, and I can''t help but think, Besides, we''ve already had a bath house episode. Out loud, I add, "And a beach episode needs to be earned, anyway."


    That gets a confused look from Ayre I haven''t seen in a while. "... Eh-pih-sold?"


    With nothing to say for myself, I just grin back. "Nevermind, I''m just being silly."


    The rest of the way to the dungeon doesn''t take long. Unlike the Forest Cavern, which seems to prefer to confuse and befuddle would-be raiders, this one seems quite content to stick to its showy distraction. Or maybe keeping people nearby helps it in some other way?


    Actually, I should ask that. "Hey, Ayre ..."


    Ayre inhales sharply, throwing an overly excited pitch into the response. "Oh, is it time to ask me incredibly weird and difficult questions I''m just expected to know the answers to again?!"


    So I match the expression of enthusiasm right back, both of us with our arms raised before us like we can barely contain ourselves. "Yes! I''m so glad to see you''re so excited for it! I was worried it was annoying you!"


    The elf doesn''t even flinch in expression, keeping the too-wide smile plastered on. "Shut up and ask your question before I give you a reason to test your healing bullets!"


    I drop the act with a grin before settling back in my seat again. For once, we''re not using my carriage. It''s not a long walk to the dungeon proper, but it''s long enough to be inconvenient, and Kaiwoku doesn''t offer carriage lodging at the entrance. It''s either walk or take one of their regular rides out there. In fact, it''s even set up like a bus stop, with a place to wait for the next carriage at either end.


    It''s a rougher ride, to be sure, but it''s short enough not to matter.


    "Do dungeons gain anything from having people in them?"


    Ayre taps a lip, considering the question, but then shakes his head. "I''m sorry, Remmi, I wouldn''t know. I mean, they''re fonts of arcane power, so you''d think they have everything they need. But there are whole ecosystems with dungeons, like you saw with the crystal formations when the Forest Cavern was overloaded."


    "So it''s possible there''s some sort of give and take going on?"


    The elf nods at my question. "But I''d guess it''s far more take than give. We take excess arcane energy away from the dungeons in the form of both drops and bonus System points. Not to mention the energy spent creating monsters that we destroy."This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    I cross my arms thoughtfully at that. "It''s almost like pruning a plant, isn''t it? It grows thick and healthy because we keep it from wasting itself growing wild, and then we harvest its fruit."


    Ayre taps his bottom lip again as he considers that concept. "Yeah, that would make a kind of sense, but plants aren''t aware we''re helping them, and don''t actively take anything from us."


    My mind goes back to the way dungeons integrate their surroundings into their makeup. Setting aside the implication that there must have been an ocean here at some point for this one to mimic as a matter for historians and geologists, that means that there is something they take from what they are exposed to.


    I didn''t get to see the Forest Cavern in its full glory, but Ayre had made it clear it was supposed to have lived up to its name, not been a barren cave full of undead.


    "Data," I say without really thinking about it.


    "Day-tah?" Ayre repeats, wrinkling his nose. "Remmi, that''s twice now in this one trip you''ve used words that didn''t translate."


    I give an apologetic chuckle. "Sorry, I was just thinking. Maybe what the dungeon gets is information it then uses to shape itself. We''re too small and transient to make much of a noticeable difference, so almost all of it is taken from the surroundings instead, but they could be getting bits and pieces of information from us traversing them. Like an automatic keeper of records."


    But Ayre just gives a big, slow shake of his head, like someone trying to clear it, rather than in denial. "Remmi, this is the kind of conversation you need to have with Sacred Yorin, or an arcanist or some other dungeon specialist. You''re getting too collegiate for me."


    I send a pointed frown his way that he masterfully ignores.


    "Besides," Ayre ventures after a moment, "where are you even getting something like that from? What proof do you have of such a wild idea?"


    "Nothing!" I grin. "The only thing for certain is that the dungeon takes from the surrounding area to create its identity, and that can persist long after that area changes."


    "Hold on," the elf counters, "aren''t you taking that a step further than you have stairs?"


    I ignore the strange turn of phrase. I can at least understand the sentiment being communicated. "It''s because of Desert Cove! If its domain is an ocean, where did it come from? I''ll bet this whole region used to be a sea at some point back when the dungeon first formed, and the dungeon core remembers that! It''s like a snapshot from far back in time!"


    I''m clearly straining Ayre''s brain, but the elf takes a prolonged moment to process the idea before speaking again.


    "Alright, I can understand how you got to that conclusion, but how did you get to record-keeping?"


    "Do you remember when I asked about a dungeon map?" I remind him. "You told me that a dungeon is always changing, even if only a little bit at a time. What determines how it makes those changes?"


    "I don''t know," Ayre shrugs. "What determines the tides?"


    "Mostly the gravitational force of the sun and the moon," I answer the rhetorical question automatically, then plow straight on ahead. "And then there''s how a dungeon core can absorb things. What does it do with them? What if it uses what it takes in to determine how to change?"


    Ayre gives a groan, gripping the side of his head. "Remmi! This is getting too complicated! Nevermind jumping to these conclusions, how are you keeping track of all of them?!"


    "But isn''t it kind of a romantic idea? Every footstep you take in a dungeon might change it just a little forever!"


    "Is that all it comes down to? Just a bunch of conjecture for a pretty idea?"


    My grin comes back in full force. "But conjecture is fun, and what''s better than a pretty idea?"


    "Is this the kind of thing you called navel-gazing?"


    I giggle at the accusation, but after a few moments, Ayre sighs.


    "Actually, I just remembered one other detail about the dungeon that may be relevant. And, now that you have me thinking about it, it might even actually back up your pretty idea."


    I look across the carriage to the elf at that. "Oh? Do tell."


    "They say it regenerates remarkably fast," Ayre explains. "Do you have any idea how many teams go through it, or how often?"


    I consider that before answering. "Enough to support a tourist town."


    "Exactly. But that''s really strange. You''ll remember that the Forest Cavern had an Arcana Level and a Point Multiplier listed when we went in?"


    I nod, motioning for Ayre to continue.


    "Once cleared, the Arcana Level of a dungeon drops. Below a certain point, there''s nothing to gain from going through it. Over time, the dungeon will recover, and a team can clear it again. If it gets too low, a dungeon will even seal itself off to prevent entry until it sufficiently recovers."


    "But not this one?" I ask.


    "Nobody can recall a time when the Desert Cove dungeon has ever sealed itself off," Ayre confirms. "Not even with back to back dungeon clears."


    I frown at the news. "Well, that''s not ominous at all."


    *     *     *


    The entrance to the dungeon is a subtle thing. Following the directions from the guide, we go down to the waterfront and follow the beach down past a rocky bluff. Carved into the sandstone by the waves is a small entrance to a cavern that looks deceptively shallow, but actually takes a sharp drop at the back.


    It''s the type of thing that could be completely overlooked, whether from shore or sea. It seems to be nothing special, and, in fact, we can see similar depressions up and down the bluff. Even the sharp drop could be easily explained. Quite simply, anyone would assume that the water just broke through into a sinkhole or lower cavern.


    The cavern, itself, is damp, slick, and smells of sea water and stale brack pools. Again, nothing at all exceptional. You''d never at all guess that it was the entrance to a dungeon, a mystical, quasi-dimensional space ruled by a hyper-dense chunk of magic called a core. And, from all of the frolicking and laughter behind us, you''d never guess it was a den of monsters.


    But all of the mystery would be swept away the moment you tried to step inside and a big, blue text box appeared out of nowhere to warn you exactly what you were stepping into.


    <hr>


    You are entering "Desert Cove Dungeon"


    Arcana Level: Moderate


    Point Multiplier: 150%


    <hr>

 Book Two Chapter 15 - Boredom

    Chapter 15


    Boredom


    I was spoiled by my first dungeon being a corrupted, overloaded time bomb. Every room had a new, deadly challenge. Every chamber held a new spectacle just waiting for us to marvel at it. I even find myself missing the big, beautiful crystals that were actually massively condensed chunks of corrupted arcana.


    After all, the Desert Cove dungeon is an absolute snore next to that experience.


    There are no zombies lying like corpses to ambush us, no skull puppet with a magic sword, no collapsing ceilings ready to crush us, not even the simplicity of the haunting beauty of will-o-wisps. Every step just brings more shallow pools, giant bats and piles of guano as we navigate through the same wet, dank tunnels seemingly carved at random.


    I was prepared for the drops to be worse, just because the arcana density isn''t nearly as high. Ayre assures me, however, that the bat fangs and balls - I suspect the latter, in the form of white, chalky orbs, are magic bat turds, and I suck them into my bag with gratitude for the auto-loot skill - are still dropping at an incredibly high rate for us. Apparently, even a moderately-charged dungeon normally drops less than the rate of about one for every three or four monsters we''re getting.


    Still, it all feels like going spelunking. On the other hand, it doesn''t feel like dungeon-diving. Since we''re in another enclosed space and our opponents are just giant rats with wings, I''m even using the Noodle Spitter instead of my gun. The quiet thunk feels almost like a toy without the bang and kick of gunpowder.


    It''s hard to believe that even Forest Cavern, the only dungeon in the Serazin province, might have been this mind-numbingly dull if not for the Corruption.  It finally gets to me enough that I can''t hold back a groan.


    "Is this what it''s like to be a Silver-rank challenging a Bronze dungeon?"


    It''s just a rhetorical question, a voice given to my boredom, but Ayre answers, anyway.


    "No, it shouldn''t be like this," he confirms as his arrow easily drops another bat. "If the dungeon hadn''t specifically stated it''s moderately charged, I''d think it''s on the verge of exhaustion."


    "All of that energy must be going somewhere," I reason back. "If it''s not going to monsters, what is the dungeon core doing with it?"


    "I don''t know." Ayre gives a shake of the head. "I''ve never heard anything about dungeon cores being able to plan. If it has energy, it should be using it. From everything we know about dungeons, there''s no choice in it. Energy equals monsters."


    "Like clotting," I refer back to the elf''s initial explanation on dungeons when we first teamed up, and Ayre nods.


    Since we''ve started talking, I continue my grumbling. "From a dungeon like this, I''d expect a lot more than just bats, too. Blind, tremor-sensing fish and cave scorpions with claws bigger than their heads!"


    Ayre looks over at me with an expression that can only be described as disturbed. "Where do you come up with such wild creature ideas?"


    I just grin back. "It''s just the kind of wildlife you''d expect to find in deep, damp caves back home!"


    "Tremor fish and massively-clawed scorpions? And you continue to insist your world doesn''t have monsters."


    I touch my chin in thought. "In fact, with all of these bats, it''s a little weird that we haven''t seen any rat snakes."


    Ayre''s expression turns confused. "What do bats and snakes have to do with each other?"


    "Cave-dwelling rat snakes prey on bats," I happily explain. "The biggest on record was eight feet long, and they''re excellent climbers. They scale the walls and hang from the ceiling to snatch bats out of the air when the bats go to leave!"


    If, before, Ayre had looked disturbed, now the slender elf trembles in abject revulsion. "I shouldn''t have asked! Now I''m going to be jumping at every stalactite! Thanks, Remmi!"


    "You''re welcome, Ayre!" That gets me a dirty look that makes me laugh. "I don''t mean anything by it, honest. I''m just saying that it''s downright weird to see only bats."


    Ayre takes a moment to settle nerves and focuses on the original point. "Yes, when considering it from an ecosystem standpoint, I can see what you mean."


    "Exactly," I insist. "There is no ecosystem. Just bats!" I shoot another one more out of spite than necessity and wave my hand toward the wing that drops, transferring it into the bag with the rest of the parts. Apparently, the leather of the giant bat wing is great for heavy-duty leather straps.


    "I get it," Ayre says, exasperated, "you''re tired of bats! What do you want me to do about it?"


    I give my best creepy grin. "Misery loves company."


    The elf scoffs. "What does that even mean?" Ayre then immediately holds up a hand even as I''m inhaling. "Rhetorical. Please, do not give me a language history lesson in the middle of a dungeon. Go look for whatever we say for it in that thesaurus of yours."If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    Ayre turns to look at the sprawling cavern ahead of us. "While you''re doing that, maybe we should split up. We can cover more ground that way and increase our odds of finding the core that much faster."


    Well, that totally triggers my Do Not Do list. I drop the jokes and frown in worry. "Split the party? There''s only two of us, Ayre. If anything happens, there''s nobody to support us. What if one of us finds whatever the dungeon''s spending all of that energy on?"


    Ayre just beams back at me, leaning forward at the waist with the bow clasped behind the back. "Then you just give a big shout, and I''ll come running to save you!"


    "Har har," I flatly reply. "Fine, but I''m going on record that this is a bad idea."


    "It''s just bats, Remmi," the elf reminds me with a roll of the eyes. "Maybe the core is clogged, I dunno, but if this place is so dangerous for men, surely we would''ve found out why by now."


    "Or it''s waiting until we separate."


    Ayre pouts. "It''s not like you to be so paranoid."


    "I''m just worried about you!" I insist. "I''ll take on a hundred giant bats before I''d want anything to happen to you because we got careless!"


    He sighs at that and his shoulders slump. "Yeah, okay. How about this? This place is pretty open. We move apart, but never more than a room away from each other. That way, if anything happens, we can respond quickly while still expanding our range of sight."


    Well, I guess that isn''t really splitting the party. It''s technically just ... spreading it out a little. "Okay ... but if we see anything other than giant bats, we immediately join back up."


    "Deal."


    * * *


    *Ayre*


    With my bow pulled over my shoulder for the climb, I clamber up an outcropping where another opening waits otherwise out of reach. Once I get to the top, I dust myself off and get my bow back into my hands. There''s almost certainly going to be more of Remmi''s hated bats in the next room.


    Speaking of the Gunslinger Hero, I turn to meet her gaze across the dungeon''s open main tunnel, and I wave to her to let her know I''m good and that I''m heading in. She gives a hand sign back and I head for the opening.


    The Desert Cove dungeon lacks the light-giving crystals of the Forest Cavern, but it''s not quite pitch black in here. The walls do glow ever so dimly. So dimly, in fact, that it''s useless for navigating its uneven, earthen corridors by normal sight alone. Most would bring torches or lanterns, but I have the Dark Sight spell, which makes it more than enough illumination to see clearly.


    It''s a common spell for hunters like me to learn, as it''s invaluable for traveling, scouting and hunting at night. Remmi is also using it in lieu of a light source, but, of course, she simply purchased it with her points. It''s not some hard-earned spell like Spiral Shot, so I''m not bothered by her cheating ways this time.


    One might think this would grant a huge advantage over nocturnal and underground monsters, but the truth is that it only evens the playing field. Any creature that is active at night or otherwise lives in near-perpetual darkness can be assumed to already have innate Dark Sight. This makes things like torches or lanterns, magical or mundane, stand out like bonfires, the bright light a dead giveaway to human presence.


    This can be both to the benefit and detriment for adventurers and travelers. Many creatures will shy from the light, fleeing from it, kept at bay the same way a campfire serves. On the other hand, anything that isn''t afraid of the light knows exactly where you are, even when they are still far out of your range of vision.


    The same applies to me, and I''m only poking around for a few minutes before I see the telltale bobbing dance of a set of lanterns. Like one of the native creatures, I hide at first. It''s coming out from deeper in, and as far as I know, it could be some sort of trap. It wouldn''t be unheard of for a monster to mimic torchlight in a dark place just to lure in prey.


    But it''s no trick. Sure enough, soon, three young women come around a stalagmite in the path, chatting amicably among themselves. I can''t make out what they''re saying, though. The tunnels cause reverberations over anything further than within arm''s reach. It''s why, once we separated, Remmi and I used hand signals even though we thought we were alone.


    They must be another party of adventurers. That would explain the lack of monsters if we just had the bad luck to come in right behind somebody else. The dungeon is famous enough that it has an entire tourist economy built around it, and it''s not like the place seals up the moment a group comes in.


    Really, we should have expected another party was the cause a lot sooner. The dungeon''s arcana levels could still be pretty good, especially if they hadn''t finished their run yet, even though they''d cleared out a lot of monsters.


    A thought occurs to me. They''re coming back. That means they''ve already found the dungeon core! They could show us the way and save us maybe hours of fruitless searching!


    I jump from my hiding place and head toward the light of the lanterns. Toward the end, I slide down a rocky embankment, causing all of them to stop sharply and pull their weapons.


    "Friendly, friendly!" I say before I''m ever within their zone of light, then hold my hands up as I step into it so they can see I mean no harm. "Just another dungeon-goer. Have you guys made it to the dungeon core already?"


    They look confused by my arrival and share several looks between themselves and back to me. But, in what I consider progress, they put their weapons away and nod to each other.


    ... And then they''re right up in my face. I get flustered by the proximity immediately. "H-hey, personal space, please!"


    They act like I''ve not said a word and continue inspecting me. One lifts up one of my arms and runs a finger down it as if inspecting its smoothness. Another squeezes my cheeks, making my lips pucker. I yelp and finally jump away when one bends down and pokes my thigh.


    "Wha-what are you doing?!"


    Again, they just ignore me and step back to confer with each other once again.


    "Arrr," one says.


    "Yarhar," the second agrees.


    They nod to each other again, then turn back to me as the third one concludes their decision-making process.


    "Matey."


    I flounder and panic as they close in around me from all sides again, afraid of more prodding. But this time, they just grab me by the arms, legs and head and heft me over their shoulders.


    As I go up into the air, I scream.


    * * *


    *Remmi*


    The girliest scream I''ve ever heard pierces the caverns, causing the bats ahead of me to startle and take flight. For once, I ignore them.


    "Startled Sylvans, Batman! That has to be Ayre!"


    Ignoring that nobody is around to hear my quip, I beat a path back to the passageway the elf took, burning mana for Empower as I leap up the cliff he climbed and dart through the entrance.


    There''s noises in the distance, but the echoes make it impossible to pin down. Thinking something must have gotten him from deeper in, I follow as directly as I can, doing my best not to be waylaid by the sounds coming from different directions.


    Soon, I see lights ahead, but I slow down rather than head toward it.


    Because I see enough lights moving in different places to represent whole patrols.


    What in the world did we bump into down here?

 Book Two Chapter 16 - Elfnapped

    Chapter 16


    Elfnapped


    <hr>


    NAME: Pirate Swabbie


    RACE: Human (Dungeon)


    AGE: 19


    LEVEL: 10


    CLASS: Pirate


    STATUS: Patrolling


    <hr>


    I lower my thumb and forefinger from around my eye and swear. Not out of frustration, though there''s plenty of that. The one I Identified from hiding is one of dozens of figures, all patrolling the area of a concealed cavern dock, complete with a full-sized ship. No, I swear out of shock.


    Pirates. Actual, real swashbucklers were the last thing I expected to find in a dungeon. Though I suppose, technically, "real" might be a bit of a stretch. They''re actually dungeon monsters, not real pirates.


    Given the way dungeons work, the real pirates must have been using the cove as a base when the dungeon expanded, or maybe even first appeared. Yet these pirates don''t look primitive, despite that having surely been centuries ago. Either the Furinshao Empire has stagnated longer than I would have ever imagined, or the dungeon has been drawing from its tourists to keep them updated.


    ... I''m deeply bothered that I don''t know enough about this world''s history or how dungeons work to be able to tell which one it is.


    The pirates come in different categories. If this were a game, they''d probably be mostly palette swaps, but here, they''re much more varied, as much as I would expect to see from real people. Swabbies seem to be the lowest tier and are by far the most numerous. After that are melee Swashbucklers and crossbow-toting Sharpshooters, all with the adjective and class of Pirate. Above that, and much rarer, are the Pirate Commanders, who direct the lower groups.


    Oh, and they''re all beautiful young women. I''m starting to see why men are discouraged from coming here. I''m saying it now, I''ll bet the captain''s a slightly older woman, just enough to get away with an Ara Ara. Or, since they all seem to talk in cliche pirate speak, Arrrrah Arrrrah.


    ... I miss having someone groan at these things.


    Wait, why are they talking in stereotypical pirate sounds? These aren''t pirates from Earth, and even if they were, they wouldn''t be from the Caribbean. These pirates would be from the other side of the planet. I''m briefly reminded of the famous Chinese pirate and wonder how similar the eighty thousand under her command might be to these women.


    ... Maybe they aren''t talking in stereotypical pirate sounds? Or rather, not the ones I''m hearing. What if that''s translation by the Essence? Whatever their language entry is, it''s just, "Generic Pirate Nonsense," and so that''s what I hear.


    They definitely elfnapped Ayre, though. I arrived in time to watch them wrestling some struggling form below deck. Watching was all I could do, though. There''s no way I could charge through the whole mess of them.


    Oh, could I kill them? Individually, absolutely. Even the commanders are only level 18. I''ve got no doubt that my gun could double-tap the lot of them. The problem is that it doesn''t take a tactical genius to see that the moment I start shooting, they''re all going to dogpile me.


    I''d need a machine gun nest to survive. Even with 150 Agility, I can''t fire my pistol fast enough, and that''s assuming a bottomless magazine, too, which I definitely do not have. If I lasted long enough to need to reload, I''d never survive doing it.


    So how do I go about rescuing Ayre? Who knows what they''re doing to him in there?


    While I''m stewing over this problem, I notice one of the Swabbies break away from their group and head off a bit. She''s blonde and looks about my size, but her only equipment is the clothes on her back and a small, curved sword at her hip.


    Hmm ... An idea begins to form in my mind, and as I quietly make my way around toward her, I open my menu to go ahead and purchase the Martial Arts skill. I know basically what I want to do, so hopefully the knowledge of how to do it will allow me to overpower the girl quickly and quietly.


    If there''s one thing that I''m absolutely certain Hollywood hasn''t misled me on, it''s that pirates are crazy for treasure. They''re greedy and can''t resist the golden gleam. I don''t have much in the way of gold on me, as the empire uses printed coins of assorted shapes, but I have plenty of things that are equally shiny.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    I gauge where she''s going and pull out the golem core and an armful of the crystals I got from the Forest Cavern dungeon, then put them where she''ll see them, but will have to walk even further away to investigate. Then I move into position and pray she''ll not call her friends over in her excitement.


    That bonus luck must be working overtime, because the girl sees it almost immediately. The glimmer enters her eyes almost comically literally, and she creeps over to it like she''s afraid the pile might disappear if she startles it.


    I almost feel bad as she moves right past my hiding spot, but I remind myself she''s a dungeon monster, not a real person, and a sea bandit at that. Pretty sure somebody once said bandits aren''t real people, either.


    With an additional silent reminder that this is for Ayre, I jump out behind her and wrap my left arm around the front of her neck and my right arm back behind her head, and I squeeze.


    She struggles a lot more than I anticipated, but I''m able to maintain control and she can''t scream. It''s the longest ten seconds of my life before she finally goes limp in my arms, but I hold it another twenty just so she doesn''t turn around and wake up on me before I finish.


    I can''t kill her. If I do, she''s going to disappear and probably take everything I need with her. If I take too long, though, she''ll wake back up before I''ve got her secured. Instead, as quickly as I can, I strip her down to her undergarments and tie her to a stalactite, with a gag tied around her mouth so she can''t scream for help.


    Only once that''s done do I check on the one potential hiccup with this whole plan. If the monsters in a dungeon are aware of something happening to one of their own, the whole shebang goes up in smoke.


    ... No, the pirate patrols are still milling about without a care in the world. Good.


    I change out my outfit for that of the swabbie I''ve just accosted, then put my belt and holster back on and fasten her sword to it. So far, so good. I was honestly halfway worried they''d disappear the moment they were separated from her, but maybe I only have to worry about that if I leave the dungeon.


    She''s got a burlap sack with a few tins in it, so I move my extradimensional storage to it for now and slide my own bag inside, completing the look. After that, I go to gather up my shinies I''d used for bait, but after a moment of consideration, I leave a purified crystal in the only pocket she''s got left for her being such a good sport.


    She came to while I was getting changed, and pulls against her binds, trying to get free. She does pause her struggles when I give her the crystal, though.


    "Sorry, my little doppelganger," I apologize with a wave of my hand as I turn to leave. "Time for me to set sail!"


    *     *     *


    It''s true that dungeon monsters based on the human races can''t be understood through the translation effect of a Hero''s Essence connection. With that alone, I can''t make sense of what they''re saying. It all just sounds like they''re all the most enthusiastic participants of Talk Like A Pirate Day.


    Maybe it''s because I''ve been talking with a monster since I came to Dabun, but as I listen to them chatter from the shadows, I can still kind of get an idea of what they''re saying. The longer I listen, the more it starts to make sense.


    Little surprise, they''re talking about pirate things. How they can''t wait for the patrol duty to be over so they can head back for a drink. Of rum, of course. How they can''t believe somebody handed themselves over to one of the patrol teams. I have a feeling I know who that is, poor Ayre probably thought they were adventurers.


    From what I can gather, they''re keeping Ayre on the ship, but somehow seem to intend on having him join the crew. I can''t deny that the mental image of Ayre cosplaying as a pirate is cute, especially on a crew with a sense of fashion like this one. But I also can''t figure out how they could expect to turn him into a dungeon-bound monster.


    Maybe they don''t know the difference? Maybe they don''t know they''re dungeon monsters? Maybe the dungeon makes new pirates by making an arcane clone of the original? I don''t know. There''s just not enough information.


    What matters right now is that I know roughly where they''re keeping Ayre, I can roughly understand what they''re saying, and I have a rough idea of what I''m going to have to do next.


    Totally going to work out just fine.


    I wait for the next patrol to pass, then slip into the rotation. I don''t stand out too much despite being on my own. There are other single individuals going about, ones that got slowed down by something or another, and their groups didn''t wait for them.


    Another thing I''d studied while watching them was their patrol patterns, and I''m confident I know the shortest one to the ship! Let''s see, left, right, around the boulder, up the slope, right, left-- No, left, then left again, then--!


    I take a wrong turn and walk right smack into another pirate, this one a redhead that looks like one of the swashbucklers. And she is not pleased.


    "Arrrrr! Ahoy, swabbie! Yarhar long arm under!"


    I, uh ... think what she meant to say was, "Hey, watch where you''re going, Swabbie! Stick to your path or you''ll be getting disciplined!" It really is kind of an impressively compressed language.


    I try to remember all of the most stereotypical pirate sounds I can think of and focus on what I want them to mean. "Ahoy, matey, skipper roll me under!" I''m trying to say, "Sorry, mate, I''m getting tired and lost track of my turns."


    ... Miraculously, it seems to work, and her angry gaze softens. "Yar, fresh waters sealegs. Cap''n on deck an'' nary a blue."


    I''m getting the hang of this. She''s assuming I''m new and haven''t gotten used to all of the activity yet, so she wants me to head back to the ship and let the captain know there doesn''t seem to be any other intruders.


    I can work with that! In fact, it''s exactly where I wanted to go! Thank you, bonus luck!


    I give her a salute and do my best to say, "I''m on my way, Boss Lady! I''ll let her know!"


    She gives a firm nod and dismisses me, then heads on with her rounds. Presumably, even if they can''t find anything, they''ve still got to keep looking until they''re relieved or given orders to stand down. It''s actually impressive how well-organized they are. Either the Captain commands a lot of respect from her underlings, or a whole lot of fear.


    I''m hoping the former.


    Confident in my ability to communicate with monsters and making a mental note to make Kyuuga a carrot cake for inadvertently teaching me, I break from the formations and take the shortest line to the docks.


    A pair of commanders are standing guard at the gangplank, itself, but all I have to do is tell them that I was ordered to report to the captain, and they let me through without so much as a second glance.


    And with that, I''m on the deck of a real pirate ship. I suppress my giddiness at the thought and focus on what I need to do next: Find Ayre, and hopefully avoid finding the Captain first.

 Book Two Chapter 17 - Captain

    Chapter 17


    Captain


    Called it.


    The captain''s cabin is a lavish affair, with all of the comforts one could expect of such a position. She sits behind an ornate desk heavy with the density of its wood, in quite possibly the most comfortable-looking chair to ever have a skull mounted on it. The walls are covered with trophies and treasures that must be worth countless bars. Rolls of vellum maps are stacked on a bookshelf that matches the desk.


    And the captain, herself, is everything I imagined she''d be. More, even. I no longer doubt, with any fiber of my being, that this place is far too dangerous for an unprepared man. It truly must be kept secret, lest it turn into a deadly honey trap. I''m not sexist enough to think all men that heard about it would be at risk, but enough would hear tell of a crew of beautiful pirates and come running to their deaths.


    My plan to avoid this meeting ... didn''t work out. There were far too many entirely too helpful crewmates between me and the hatch leading below deck. I certainly can''t fault their friendliness when they think you''re one of them, but they might as well have taken me by the hand and walked me here for how they ended up railroading me.


    My only recourse is to act the part, so once I find my tongue, I snap a salute. "Nary a blue, Cap''n!" I''ve gotten enough practice in just getting here to slip right into the dialect without issue.


    But the captain barely seems to pay my report any mind. Instead, she seems preoccupied with a black pearl on her desk. "Remmi Lee," she says, and my blood runs cold. She''s still talking in Pirate, but it''s no longer a handicap in understanding her clearly.


    She turns toward me fully, and her smile is sweet, but her gaze is as sharp as a rapier. "Race, human outsider. Age, fifteen. Level, ten. Class, Gunslinger." And that gaze gets sharper still, even as the smile widens. "Status, unnerved."


    I can''t help it. I take a step back as if I''m expecting attack, my hand twitching toward my pistol, but my reaction just draws out a sultry laugh from the woman.


    I swallow and attempt to re-steel myself. "You know Identify."


    "And you recognize it," she replies easily. "It wasn''t always a lost magic, but everyone who comes storming in here assumes I''m using an item. And we can understand each other. Remmi, sweet little thing, I don''t suppose you''re a Hero?"


    I frown. This woman is far too clever by half. "I am."


    She stands from her desk and steps around it. "That would explain that silver badge on your chest. Most that come through wear bronze ones. I''ve never seen anyone so low as level ten come through here, but if I understand the rating system, that badge means you''re more on par with a level thirty. My, my, to think I''m so outclassed."


    She doesn''t talk or act like someone who feels outclassed.


    "Let me guess," I try, "Level 20, thereabouts?"


    "Twenty-two," she corrects me proudly, but then sighs. "Ah, I was higher before we ended up grounded in this accursed hole. How I wish to set sail again. An eternity of this purgatory doesn''t suit me."


    "You remember being ..." I flounder, though, trying to come up with an accurate term for it.


    She, however, cuts to the quick without hesitation. "Human. Yes, little Hero, I remember being of mortal coil." The captain''s face is even beautiful when crestfallen. "To think I once dreamed of immortality. Being chained in place like a ghost and brought back time and again as a glorified guardian is not the eternal life I had in mind."


    I hesitate for a moment. "... If this is going toward a request to break you out, I don''t think that''s something I can do."


    But the captain shakes her raven head. "I didn''t expect you could. I''m merely taking the opportunity to air my troubles to an outsider that can understand them."


    She regathers herself admirably with just a flip of her hair, and the authoritative woman returns, the one who thought so little of facing someone with the power of a level thirty adventurer. "Now, what brings you here, my little Hero? You didn''t come here to raid the place, or you''ve got a very obtuse way of doing it."


    "Ah." Well, if she''s asking, I might as well be honest. "Your girls nabbed an elf in the caves earlier. Headed down into the hold." Somehow, I feel like it''s important I don''t mention Ayre''s a guy, so I give the elf a mental apology. "She''s a friend of mine, named Ayre. I''d like her back."


    The captain''s eyebrow goes up. "That''s all?"


    "Well, it''s why I''m dressed like a swabbie," I admit, "but it''s not why we came into the dungeon to start with. You''re right, I''m not here to loot the place. I just need to get to the dungeon core."Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "An odd objective. You don''t seem much like a religious petitioner." She shifts the way she''s standing in a manner that indicates a change of topic. "Well, one matter at a time. Let''s go check on your elf friend, shall we?"


    And so I''m walked right back out of the cabin by the captain, herself, and led down below the deck as if on a personal tour.


    "The core sees to everything," she says as we travel. "It maintains my ship, it sustains my crew, it even makes sure we''re up to date. We went through an entire phase where it got the impression holds, themselves, had fallen out of style. We had to make quarters in the cave because nobody had any bunks."


    "Sounds like a rough time to be bound to a nonsapient rock," I comment, and she nods.


    "I can''t speak to its sapience," the captain replies. "It never talks to me, nor communicates with me in any way. I just know I''m to defend it with my life, as cheap as that is when dying means so little. Perhaps if it did get chatty, we could get some actual work done down here."


    She turns toward me as we continue our way across the deck. "Speaking of communication, how did you come to understand us?"


    "Oh, well ..." I chuckle as I rub the back of my neck. "I had practice talking to a rabbit."


    Little surprise even the unflappable captain looks dumbstruck by that. "... A ... rabbit?"


    "Horned rabbit," I provide. "Level eighteen."


    "Eighteen," she repeats in bewilderment. "Have the monsters grown so strong that my girls could lose to a rabbit?"


    "Not likely," I reassure her with a shake of my head. "They''re still usually level one. Kyuuga''s something special, though." I grin. "He even has a class!"


    "A rabbit with a class," the captain marvels, and slowly shakes her own head. "Of all of the wonders across the sea, I''ve never before heard of such a ridiculous thing ..."


    I give a twisted grin. "You could call him a classy bunny."


    The captain turns and gives me the flattest of gazes. "Don''t make me run you through before the time comes."


    We make our way down into the hold, and I get my first sight of Ayre''s predicament.


    The elf is in a cage. Not a gilded one, but it''s hardly spartan, either. It''s populated with pillows and a hammock stretches across the side. He has two guards, but neither of them are trying to intimidate him. Rather, they''re holding up nautical-themed outfits in front of him and arguing about which would look better.


    Poor Ayre obviously can''t make heads or tails of what sounds like disgustingly stereotypical gibberish to his ears.


    I can see other cages down here, too. A couple, toward the back of the hold and in dim light thereof, are far more like prison cells. Nothing but cold boards to lay on, assuming you aren''t just bolted into one of the harnesses. In a flash of insight, I realize those would be the cells for Ayre if they hadn''t mistaken him for the fairer sex.


    I don''t know if Ayre has realized his good fortune yet, but his panicked face over the incomprehensible bickering in front of him turns to a crestfallen expression when the captain and I come into sight.


    "Oh no ... Remmi, they got you, too?!"


    The pirates can''t understand what he''s saying, either, but his actions give away that someone just came in under the cover of their bickering, and they wheel about. They immediately snap to attention upon seeing their captain and bark a sharp, "Cap''n on deck!"


    Fun fact, what they say for that and what it translates to is actually the same for once.


    The captain gives a return gesture to their salute and then nods toward the cage. "That your mate?" she asks.


    I nod. "Aye, Cap''n, that''s her." Then I turn to Ayre and give a wave as I return to speaking normally. "Hey, Ayre! It''s alright! I''m gonna get you out of there!"


    The two pirates'' heads perk up with blatant expressions of confusion at hearing what they thought was a fellow Swabbie speaking the surface tongue, but Ayre''s ears twitch in annoyance. "You realize you''re saying that while standing right next to them, right?"


    "It''s fine," I wave my friend off. "They can''t understand us any better than you can understand them!"


    "We can intuit fairly well," the captain puts in flatly, making me seize mid-wave.


    That just makes Ayre''s expression flatten, as well. "You shot your mouth off too soon, didn''t you?"


    "Ahaha," the Captain chuckles. Though, actually, she goes, "Arharhar," but tomato, tom-arr-to. "Seems she figured it out, too. Is the little Hero the slow one?"


    I''m not pouting. "When did this become Pick on Remmi Day?"


    "When Remmi decided to eat her foot!" Ayre calls back.


    The Captain, of course, didn''t understand those words, but the bemused smirk on her lips remains. No doubt she understands that I''m being ridiculed for my short-sightedness, but she moves the conversation along as she turns toward me and leans against the stairwell.


    "Now, my precocious little Hero, why don''t you tell me why you want to see the dungeon core so specifically?"


    So the matter at hand, then. I turn toward her, as well, already having decided to withhold nothing from her on this topic. If she really is charged with defending the core, then she''s my ally in this.


    "Dungeons up and down the western border of the Empire are in danger," I explain. "There''s a corruption infecting them. If it gets hold of a dungeon, it corrupts all of its energy and turns its monsters into ... well ..." I almost say monsters again, but fumble for a moment before coming up with, "... monstrosities. Your girls could be turned into zombies, or composite abominations, or who knows what else. It affects creatures outside of the dungeon, too, and even people."


    The captain takes this information in for a moment in silence, then, "The Empire''s borders must have collapsed tremendously if we''re on their western edge. Assuming we''re still thinking of the same one."


    I nod. "It has. To the corruption. The entire Western Demesne has fallen." Her eyes widen at that, but I push forward. "The only way to prevent it from spreading is to purify the core, which shields it against being corrupted, and in turn protects the region outside of it. That''s why I need to get to the core. To every core up and down the border with the Demesne."


    "And then, what," the Captain counters. "You just sit there waiting for the Demesne to clear itself?"


    But I shake my head this time. "No. After I''ve secured the defense of the rest of the Empire, I''m probably going to be sent into the Demesne to start trying to push the corruption back by purifying its dungeons, too. Purification is a preventative, but it is also a treatment if a core has already been corrupted."


    "You know for a fact that you can purify one already corrupted?"


    "The Forest Cavern dungeon was corrupted," I say. "It was the first one I purified."


    Again, the Captain goes silent, measuring the weight of my words. But finally, her expression falls. "Unfortunately, little Hero, I can''t grant your request. As the one charged to be the core''s final line of defense, I can''t open up the way willingly."


    Her gaze grows more intense, however, as she meets mine. "But I know how you can earn it."

 Book Two Chapter 18 - Swords

    Chapter 18


    Swords


    The clambering of the bell finally dies down, and Ayre and I are surrounded by dozens of female pirates, all making a racket of their own as they try to figure out what''s going on.


    In the middle of them all, their captain, the boss of the Desert Cove dungeon, stands with us on the upper deck of her pirate ship. She raises a hand, and they all fall silent, awaiting her words.


    "We have a challenger today," she announces, the only other noise the creaking of the ship as the waters gently rock it in the underground dock. "She will be facing me in single combat!" The captain gets a wide grin on her face. "And when she loses, her and her friend will be joining us as our new crewmates!"


    Ayre can''t understand the words of any of the pirates. All of their words just sound like generic, stereotypical pirate sounds to him. Even I, with my Essence translation, wouldn''t be able to understand them were it not for my experience with Kyuuga. Nevertheless, he visibly represses a shudder as the pirates around us cheer, hooting and hollering to wake the dead.


    "She sounds like she''s running an arena," the elf mutters to me. "And I don''t think I like the sound of the terms."


    "She is," I confirm chipperly. "The captain and I are going to fight, and you''re the trophy!"


    "I''m the what?!"


    "It''ll be fiiiiiine," I wave off his protests. "And this way, we don''t have to fight the entire crew!"


    For some reason that I don''t understand, my reassurances don''t seem to put Ayre''s mind at ease. If anything, he looks a little more worried. I put it out of my mind, though, and move to square off with the captain.


    "Now, my little Hero," the captain crows as she draws a saber from her side, "we engage in the most ancient of pirate rituals ..." She snaps into an aggressive stance. "Crossing blades!"


    I draw the swabbie''s blade much more hesitantly. "Well, Captain, I think you should know that I''m much more of a ranged combatant. I can''t promise to be very good with--"


    I interrupt myself with a yelp as I duck under a swipe from the captain, and the fight begins. The crowd forms a natural barrier for the arena as she chases me about the clearing they leave us.


    I duck and weave around three more strikes before finally working up the nerve to parry. The movement comes naturally enough, if a little stiff, and her strike slides away from me. It doesn''t so much recoil off of it, like the movies always seem to show, as much as it keeps going at a slightly altered course.


    The Captain recovers quickly, however, and continues her aggressive assault with another set of slashes that I''d much rather get out of the way of than engage with.


    The crowd of pirates begins to boo and catcall at my performance, but I wheel at them, motioning with the short, curved blade I''ve got to work with.


    "Oh, come on, cut me some slack, here!" I shout. "She''s got a foot of steel on me!"


    My stand is short-lived, and they just laugh and jeer as I try to bounce away at the same time as I turn back to face the Captain, who isn''t going to just let me have a break.


    "You really like playing to the crowd, don''t you, little hero?" the captain asks as she pursues me back across the ring.


    "So what if I do?"


    "It''s a good quality for a pirate," she explains while we continue to exchange blows.


    My Agility is keeping up with her so far, but she doesn''t fight like a level twenty-two. She doesn''t even fight like the Silvers from my rank exam. Sure, she has the speed and power of a level twenty-two, as near as I understand such a thing, but in this moment, I genuinely believe her when she says she was higher. She fights with a control and form nearly that of a master.


    I can''t help but think that I''d never stand a chance against her if she had her full power.


    Still, I can''t let it show. "You haven''t beaten me yet, Captain! You don''t even have me on the back foot!"


    She laughs as she thrusts in toward me and I spin to the side. "You''ll go far as a pirate! Maybe even make First Mate! I''ve never had a Hero for a first officer before!"


    It''s while she''s making a follow-up diagonal slice that my new Martial Arts skill shows me an opening. Not literally, of course. It doesn''t show me how to move, I just recognize the incoming moment.


    I shove my sword against hers to force it to the side, exposing her flank, and activate Empower. Then I rear back and, in a move that would make Kyuuga proud if he''d ever give me that much credit, I bury my foot in the captain''s ribs.


    The superhuman force of the empowered blow sends her across the deck to the far side of the human ring and she actually collides with the pirates there, resulting in a knot of arms and legs that takes a long moment to untangle.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    When she comes out of it, however, the captain is smiling, and I immediately get a bad feeling, because it''s not some manic, bloodthirsty grin. It''s a knowing smile.


    "Empower," she identifies the spell immediately, and the bad feeling worsens. "It''s been a while since I''ve seen that spell. Too many martials are meatheads without the sense or mana to use it properly."


    Suddenly, the instinctive feeling of pressure I receive from her increases sharply. "I hope you don''t mind if I test yours?"


    I realize she''s just cast Empower, as well, and my shoulders slouch as only one word can come to my mind. "Otso ..."


    Immediately, Ayre''s voice comes in a pleading half-scream from off to the side. "PLEASE stop trying to use that word!"


    I don''t have time to retort as the captain comes flying at me again, half again as fast and powerful as she''d been before. From experience, I know that doesn''t include her health, but that doesn''t matter so much when neither of us have been able to land any real hits. Even my kick moved her more than it damaged her, I''m sure.


    Now I''m keeping Empower up all of the time just to keep up with her strikes and the force behind them, putting me on a hard clock. I can only keep it up for three minutes, assuming I don''t need that mana for anything else in the meantime.


    My best hope is that she doesn''t anticipate just how long I can keep it up, and I can outlast this surge.


    The captain notices me hunkering down and focusing my attention on defense and conserving my energy almost immediately.


    "Oh my, you aren''t thinking of waiting me out, are you, little Hero?" She actually laughs. "I''m the Core Guardian, the Dungeon Boss! I may not be at my full power, but I am powered directly by the core, itself! I can''t run out of mana!"


    My mind is full of swears at that revelation that don''t make it to my mouth as I dive to the side to avoid another thrusting assault, only to find myself already having to parry her follow-ups by the time I wheel back toward her again.


    My Agility is still higher than hers, and my multiplier is probably higher, too. Which means I''m still getting the greater gain from Empower, but that''s not enough. I have the raw numbers, but she''s got the skill.


    It''s the very match-up that Yorin always warned me about with her parables, the Hero who thought having a skill and better numbers always meant a win over a master with lower numbers. I''m not so arrogant as to have come into this with such a thought in my mind, but it''s the situation I''ve landed in all the same.


    The captain pursues me until my back is against the crowd. When I try to deflect her blade away again, she feints and I fall for it. Her blade locks hilts with mine, and being on the back foot, I''m already at a disadvantage.


    But that''s not her objective. A moment after I start concentrating on not letting her sword by, the point of her boot comes up and shoots into my gut.


    I immediately second-guess how much damage a well-placed kick can do as I fold over the limb with little else in my head but the pain.


    She lets me collapse to the ground as she removes her foot and steps away. The captain is patient enough to let me recover, examining the edge of her blade as she monologues.


    "My, my, it''s been too long since I''ve had a proper fight, my little Hero! My skill with a blade is too well-known. Even with me so weakened, the adventurers that come to face me retreat almost immediately, preferring to bombard me from afar than engage me directly. Why, I''m lucky if I even get to play with a front-liner or two while they do it!"


    I push myself back to a standing position with a scowl on my face. "I''m having a hard time feeling bad for you when you''re sitting behind an infinite mana cheat. Heck, you''re about to force me to do the same! Blast you from afar and be done with it!"


    But she just laughs, an all too lovely sound as she pirouettes on the spot. "Oh, little Remmi, you don''t have the space to put enough distance between us now. And as for cheating, did you forget that I''m a pirate? What, exactly, were you expecting?"


    I narrow my eyes at such a cliche response. "Really? That''s what you''re going with? Hello, pirate?"


    She shrugs her shoulders, a pretty smile on her smug lips. "Do I need another excuse?"


    "Fair point," I answer back as I pass the sword to my left hand. "Then thanks, you just made me feel a lot better about this."


    I''m sure she has no idea what the thing on my hip is, or else she would have confiscated it long before this fight even started. But she recognizes it as a threat now. I can see it in her eyes as they narrow, the mind behind them trying to decipher what''s happening.


    She rushes at me with sword drawn back, her limbs empowered for as much speed as she can gain. But I''m empowered, too.


    And I don''t have as far to go.


    I hit one knee in the same motion that I draw, so that I''m aiming up at an angle instead of shooting into the crowd.


    The hollow of the cavern the ship docks in is massive, reducing what would be the sound of a cannon firing from the deck in tighter confines to a rolling thunder. In its wake, everything seems to stop. The crowd falls silent. The captain''s face is just turning to shock, her forward momentum halted in all of its steam by the great blow impacting her chest.


    For a moment, even the splatter from the bullet exiting her back seems to hang still in the air.


    That moment is shattered as the Captain collapses to the deck. The crowd is silent for a bit longer before gasps and whispers of disbelief start spreading among them.


    I step up to the captain, sword in one hand and pistol in the other, and for a moment, neither of us say anything as she gasps for breath, her hand clasped over the hole big enough to see through. I don''t know if it''s superhuman endurance or something about being a dungeon boss that''s keeping her from just bleeding out.


    "Well, it''s your win ... little hero ..." she finally says. "Pity ... I really wanted a Hero for a first mate ..." The Captain looks up at me. "Hey, do me a favor ... put off leaving until after I recover ... yeah?"


    "That depends," I venture. "Is killing you really the only way to open the way to the core?"


    She narrows her eyes. "No ... that''s only if you''re seen ... as hostile. I can open it for an ally ... at will."


    I drop the overpressure rounds with a press of the magazine release and slide in a magazine of green-tipped rounds, then pop the chambered round out with a rack of the slide to slip one of the new ones into its place. Auto-loot picks up what I dropped with a gesture.


    "In that case, I''ve been wanting an excuse to give these rounds a try."


    And then I shoot her in the chest again.


    The impact sends her back into the deck, bent back at the knees, that shocked look spreading across her face again. I see the hole starting to close, but it''s too slow for my liking, so I shoot her three more times, her body rebounding off of the deck with each impact.


    The healing bullets don''t leave wounds of their own, which is good, but they clearly aren''t lacking kinetic energy. Presumably, some amount of the healing goes to mitigating that. The healing from each bullet also stacks, accelerating the healing process, and in moments, the only signs that a hole was ever punched through her chest are the two holes in the front and back of her tunic.


    The crowd is dead silent. I can''t blame them. They can''t see the hole from where they are. To them, it looks like I just randomly shot their captain that had already lost, brutally and repeatedly.


    It isn''t until she inhales sharply and sits back up that life returns to them, confused murmurs returning to their ranks. The first intelligible words come from the captain, herself.


    "Damn it, that stings!"

 Book Two Chapter 19 - Cookie

    Chapter 19


    Cookie


    "So can I go see the core now?"


    My pestering doesn''t seem to quite sway the Captain. "I don''t know, little Hero. You''re still technically an intruder ..."


    The crowd''s dispersed back to their duties now that the fight is over, but we''re back on the lower deck. Mostly because Ayre''s two former guards are still adamant about finding the right outfit for him. The secret''s out about him being a guy, too, but they just got more excited about the project when they learned that.


    I still have a feeling that would have been very different if they''d learned it while we were still enemies. Unfortunately, Ayre still can''t understand their pirate gibberish, so the three of them are relegated to hand signs for communication.


    I''m off to the side with the Captain, persistent in my pleas. "Come on, I''ve shown I can beat you!"


    "Yes, but you didn''t," she points out.


    I drop my head in thought and my gaze falls on my outfit. "Hey, I''m still dressed like a swabbie! You could pretend you''re actually convinced I''m one of the crew and let me through!"


    That gets the woman''s attention and she turns back to face me. "Yes, about that ... Where did you get it, anyway?"


    I reflexively swallow as I recall for myself, then nervously rub at the back of my head. "Ah, haha, funny story ... See, I lured a swabbie over with some loot and, um, kinda ... tied her up and took her stuff ... I''m sure she''s still okay, dungeon monsters don''t hurt other dungeon monsters, right?"


    At that, the Captain throws her head back and gives a long, hard laugh. "You stole from a pirate! And you claim you aren''t fit for one, yourself!"


    I frown at the accusation. "It was part of a multi-step plan to rescue my friend. I wasn''t stealing for personal gain!"


    "Aye, the ''noble pirate'' excuse! Used it, myself, a few times!" She laughs some more.


    I''m worried my frown might be progressing into a pout, which will surely make her laugh all the harder, but she motions to one of the girls with Ayre. "Hey, Swabbie! Go get a couple others together and get that gullible fool back!"


    The girl jumps up and snaps a sharp salute with an, "Aye aye, Cap''n," and darts up the stairs.


    "And bring ''er some clothes!" the captain shouts after the swabbie, then turns back to us. "But really, what to do about you two ...?"


    Right at that time, my stomach decides to growl, drawing the attention of the other three people in the room.


    I can''t do much but rub the back of my head in embarrassment again. "Sorry about that, been a while since we last ate ..."


    Guessing at what I was saying in Pirate, Ayre immediately speaks up. "It''s been three hours!"


    "Oh, come on," I answer back normally, "those were kebabs on the way in! Those didn''t count as anything but a snack!


    The captain has half a grin cracked. "Hungry, are ya? Well, we''ve got food. The core keeps us stocked up. Not much variety, though. To be honest, most of us give up on eating after a couple years of duty. Just kind of loses all taste after the hundredth time or so. Afraid I even dissolved Cookie''s position. Frankly, she''s better with a sword than she ever was with a knife, anyway."


    At the idea of a whole stock of ingredients, my focus snaps back to the captain. "Oh, I can cook! I''ve got the skill and everything! And I have a whole bunch of ingredients of my own none of you have ever tasted!"


    There''s a light in the captain''s eyes, but she doesn''t yield to it yet. "I''ve traveled the whole sea border of the empire, little Hero. Ingredients I''ve never tasted is a big claim."


    "They''re from my homeland," I insist. "Nobody in the empire but those I''ve shared them with have ever tried them. I''ve yet to encounter anyone who''s even heard of them."


    She considers some more, but finally nods. "I suppose there''s nothing to lose from letting you at the kitchen, but you''ll have to cook for the whole crew. I''m not leaving any of my girls out if you''re actually able to deliver."


    "Fair''s fair," I agree. "Just show me to the galley! And let me take Ayre with me, I may need a second pair of hands if I''m cooking for everyone."


    *     *     *


    The galley is going to be like cooking in an RV. As big as the ship is, the stove is a two-burner affair and all of the pots and pans are crude, cheap or both. I frown and chew my lip as I try to figure out what I can even do with such limited space. I can only do a couple dishes at a time, three if I use the oven.


    A stew would be the easiest to do for so many people, but that feels like chickening out. I can only imagine that the large prep area is intended to be used to prepare an ongoing line of food to be cooked, and there''s no intention of serving the entire crew at once. That would certainly broaden my options.


    On the upside, the captain wasn''t kidding about them being fully stocked. There''s a whole pantry of hard-crusted bread, barrels of small oranges I suspect are mandarins, dried, salted and canned fish of unfathomable varieties - no doubt all saltwater fish - and a mind-warping quantity of dry vegetables, nearly any kind that grows in the empire and can keep for long durations. Enough rice to feed an army is stockpiled in burlap sacks, as well.


    And, of course, lots and lots of alcohol, the only thing that shows any sign of recent use.


    ... Unfortunately, I can see immediately how quickly that must have led to most meals being fish and potatoes with onion and rice. If I had to eat that for a hundred years, I''d give up eating, too. Even if I had to do it, which I suspect the pirates don''t.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Fortunately, I have some secret weapons of my own. It''s mostly a question of what to do. I want to eat, too, so I don''t want to spend all afternoon cooking.


    An easy choice is lemons. Somehow, the Empire doesn''t have them. The closest they have is an import of citrons from the South, which tells me the hybridization process to reach lemons never happened here. Their tangy zest and distinct juice will be sure to create something that sticks out.


    I have a stock of rabbit meat, but I don''t really want to spend the entirety of it, and would much rather use the fish. The thought of a casserole comes to mind, which would allow me to use an array of Essence vegetables, but I can''t help but imagine that the pirates are well and truly sick of the chicken of the sea.


    I''ve pretty much settled on the dessert already. Bread pudding with lemon sauce will be easy to do en masse with all of this bread, and will use plenty of Essence ingredients for that extra kick. My milk and eggs are still fresh thanks to my storage space, too. They aren''t Essence ingredients yet, but I made sure to build up a huge stockpile for our travels. I can spare to spend them here, even if it means paying out of pocket to restock them later.


    Unfortunately, that also cuts into another easy idea for the meal, itself. If I''m using so much bread as the dessert, then using more bread for a bunch of sub sandwiches would just be too much.


    I turn my mind back to the stew. Maybe it really would be a good idea. I have plenty of meat stock stored, too, so that would cut out the largest time sink. I would still have to use rabbit meat if I wanted it to have any meat in it at all, but I don''t imagine the pirates would mind me replacing the spent meat with some of their fish stockpiles. Hopefully, it doesn''t just vanish when I leave, but, again, meat is something I can replace.


    I find the biggest pot in the kitchen and fill it halfway with water, then get the heat going under it. Fortunately for the largely wooden ship, it uses fire stones to generate it, rather than a log fire.


    With that going, I begin setting out my ingredients. Essence peppers, tomatoes, onions, potatoes, peas and corn quickly fill the prep bowls I''ve laid out. Then I start carrying in loaves of bread by the armful until I have a decent stack built up.


    I take one look at Ayre staring at all of the food with the knife I handed him held limply in his grip, and immediately flag down a couple more Swabbies to enlist for help. Soon, the galley is filled with the sounds of chopping vegetables, peeling spuds and breaking bread. The last involves breaking the crusty bread into small chunks that the Swabbie in charge then drops into a basket for me to use later.


    It''s a couple hours of boiling down stock and simmering vegetables, of thickening sauces and making sure bread doesn''t go to mush, before the food starts going out. Either the aroma drew them in or the Captain gave an all-hands order, because there''s a line of pirates that look very hungry for dungeon monsters that don''t have to eat.


    With the presence of Essence ingredients, I''m betting on the aroma. And a bit for my pride, too.


    The pot isn''t nearly big enough to serve everyone, so every time a load of stew finishes, we move it to a big cauldron with a low heat applied to it for serving. We have to get a couple loads in to give us a head start, but by that time, we''ve got everything down to a well-oiled machine.


    I know we''ve got a success when one of the Swabbies asks me what to do about crewmen wanting seconds. Fortunately, we have enough to keep cooking, so I tell her to relay seconds only, and only after everyone else has had firsts, with a warning to keep space for dessert.


    With the word out that there''s a dessert to follow, and the tangy-sweet aroma of the lemon sauce already mingling with the stew, the extra demand slackens quickly. There''s still a fair few who come through for seconds, but it''s not long before I can release the Swabbies to go eat, as well. Ayre and I grab a quick bowl, too, and then jump back to the final touches of the bread pudding.


    Once the Swabbies come back and I have a reliable head count, we start dipping out the bread pudding onto plates, ladling the lemon sauce over the top. I toss an Identify at it just to make sure it meets my expectation.


    <hr>


    Essence Bread Pudding


    with Lemon Sauce


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


    Bread pudding under a lemon


    sauce made by a Hero using


    the highest quality Essence


    ingredients available. The


    zesty sauce pairs well with


    the thick, sweet pudding.


    Consuming a full serving


    grants a 25% increase to all


    physical statistics and an


    increase to stamina recovery.


    <hr>

 Book Two Chapter 20 - Swabbie

    Chapter 20


    Swabbie


    I raise a hand toward the angry-looking pirate and answer her with the same number of syllables she gave me.


    "Hey."


    She pauses and blinks, no doubt confused that she can understand me, but then storms for me, anyway. "You tied me up and left me in my underclothes! Strapped to a rock!"


    "I left you an apology gift," I answer, hands raised in placation.


    She flushes red at that, then charges. She makes a big haymaker for my head, which I calmly duck. She swings again and I pull back as it goes past my nose. She tries a jab and I lean to the side and grab my mug. She jabs to my new position and I lean the other way, taking a drink of the contents.


    Phooey, that''s strong stuff! I was right, though, it tastes like a very sweet orangeade over a strong, tequila-like alcohol. Probably rice. Sake always reminds me of tequila for some reason.


    She lunges at me and I duck down underneath it, then stand up sharply. She yelps as she finds herself flung over my shoulder like a bag of grain with the motion.


    I turn to the Captain with a big grin. "Cap''n, I think I caught an intruder! What are your orders?"


    This got a rolling laugh out of the rest of the mess, interspersed with hoots, hollers and their own suggestions, but the Captain just sat there with a wry smirk on her lips.


    "Sit her down and make her eat," the woman declares in a tone that would make it sound like a gallows sentence if her smirk wasn''t still visible. "But she only gets dessert, as punishment for failing to read the room."


    "Aye aye, Cap''n!"


    I step from my seat and plop her down where I had been, right in front of the bread pudding. She''s got a confused look on her face like she''s still trying to catch up on what''s going on.


    "In your seat?!" Ayre looks equally confused to suddenly find himself sitting next to a pirate. "But what about your pudding?"


    "I can get more," I insist. "First rule of cooking, the cook doesn''t eat until everyone''s been served!"


    That makes Ayre frown, thinking back on the times I''ve used the First Rule phrase before. "But you said the first rule of cooking was to always taste test. And to always make sure you''re not grabbing the wrong ingredient. And to measure twice, pour once. Just how many first rules are there?"


    "Nevermind that," I insist. "Besides, look at it this way. Without her, I never could have gotten to you!"


    While Ayre is stuck pondering that over, I step back and raise my voice, switching back to pirate speak to rephrase my last sentence. "Without her, none of this would have been possible!"


    The swabbie burns red again at the cheers and mugs raised in her name, however mockingly, but the Captain just gives a slow golf clap. "Well, if that endorsement isn''t justification to sit at the Captain''s Table, I can''t imagine what is."


    I reach down and scoop out a spoonful of the pudding. "Come on, take a bite!"


    She puffs up again at the treatment. "What makes you think I want your stupid pu--"


    I slip the spoon in between syllables and get it on her tongue before she can react. She chews it over slowly and finally swallows.


    "G-good ..."


    I dangle the spoon in front of her. "Still don''t want it?"


    "Give me that!" I let her snatch the spoon from my hand as she digs into it and shoves a larger bite into her mouth.


    "Thoughts, swabbie?" the Captain asks.


    The young woman cups her cheek with her free hand. "It''sh sho shweet, but the shauce ish sho tangy, it''sh like a dansh in my mouth ..."


    "You heard her, lovelies," the Captain replied, banging her mug on her table. "Stop your gawking and get to eating what you''re missing out on!"


    The room quickly fills again with the din of a dozen conversations, probably mostly about the food, and the sound of cutlery clicking against bowls.


    "Well, I better be getting my own before it cools off too much," I say as I snatch my own mug from the table.


    That causes the swabbie to squawk, but I shake my finger at her. "You heard the Captain! Dessert only! Besides, I already drank out of it, you really want to share a mug that badly?"


    That flusters her again, a cute look, I decide, and I pull out another purified mana crystal and set it beside her.


    Immediately, all of the pirate eyes in the vicinity are trained on it, and I worry I might have just made her a target, so I decide one last declaration is in order.


    "It''s hers," I insist to the crowd. "If anyone wants to take it from her, they can come see me!" I pull my pistol and raise it, safety on, toward the ceiling. "I''ll heal your greed like I healed your Captain, savvy?!"


    They all get the picture, and the eyes all quickly divert from the bright, golden light of the crystal. Quickly, the din from before returns, and I give the swabbie a grin, wink and thumbs up that she doesn''t look nearly appreciative of. But she''s red again, so I consider it a win, anyway.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    I''ve never partied with pirates before, but I have to admit, it''s pretty much what I would have expected. Once the dessert is gone, the drinking starts. Nobody really has anything better to do without adventurers coming in, and the mood is too high after such a meal for anyone to want it to stop.


    Turns out that, even if the pirates don''t need to eat, they can still get drunk. And once they start getting drunk, the singing starts. We sing shanties that I''ve never heard before, and I lead a few rounds with ones I know that they''ve never heard before.


    Not everyone''s singing. The rowdier sorts get up to other activities, like arm wrestling, where it takes two swabbies to beat a swashbuckler. Others make a game of getting Ayre to repeat whatever it is he hears when they speak. This leads to laughs on each side, both in what things the pirates dare to say, and in listening to Ayre make random pirate noises.


    The former gets raunchier and cruder the longer the alcohol continues to flow.


    I also find out that Ayre is a lightweight. It''s not more than a couple mugs before he''s looking pretty tipsy, and it''s probably a large part of why they are able to convince him to play their game so shamelessly in the first place.


    It''s cute how he so fervently gives his red-cheeked all to accurately reproduce whatever sounds he hears. It''s notable to me that he''s not making the stereotypical pirate sounds that I hear. These must be the sounds they''re actually making, but since they''re not a language when coming from Ayre, Essence doesn''t bother to translate them into anything.


    Me, I''m a hugger. I know it ahead of time, of course, even though I''ve not had any alcohol before now since coming to this world. Nobody else has any warning, though, and in between bouts of shanties, both Ayre and the swabbie fall victim.


    "Cap''n!" I call at one point when I''ve got the blonde young woman trapped under my arm again. "I wanna recruit Miss Swabbie to my party! Can I keep her?"


    The Captain holds her liquor better than any of us, little surprise with the practice she must have had, and is calmly sipping on hers while watching the merriment of her crew around her. When I all but drag the swabbie over to her with my request, though, she gives a light laugh.


    "Precious little Hero, it''s beyond even your power to release even one of us from our bondage of servitude here. We are all slaves to the dungeon core. You would have to bring the matter up with it."


    "Oh, right, the core!" I promptly release the poor swabbie with little thought to the matter as I make my way back toward Ayre. "Ayre, Ayre, we still gotta take care of the core!"


    Poor Ayre, though, is so sauced that he''s stopped trying to stand at all, and even from his seated position, more and more of the pirate sounds are slurring together, much to the pirates'' amusement. Half of them are already starting to consider switching to another game that sounds suspiciously like Pin the Skirt on the Elf.


    Deciding my bestest bestie is no longer safe, or at least his remaining dignity is in immediate danger, I make my way over, shouldering my way through the throng to his side. I try to pull one arm up over my shoulder, but his uncooperative dead weight nearly pulls me down with him. Or maybe that''s my own instability.


    In a moment of drunken genius, I remember Yorin using a spell that cleared the status of Guildmaster Kobi with a single touch when he''d had a cup of Essence Arabica. The old bear had nearly looked like he was ready to come to blows with her from the hyperactivity induced by the caffeine. All she did was tap his forehead, and he was back in his right mind.


    Forgetting more traditional solutions like switching the elf to water or feeding him bread pudding to soak up the alcohol, I immediately dive into my points page and navigate to the spells.


    I''m hoping to see some sort of commentary like I get with my bullets and such, but I''m left disappointed. Apparently, that only happens with the custom stuff sold just to me as the Gunslinger Hero. Since this is an existing spell like most of the others I''ve picked up, there''s just the regular, boring description.


    <hr>


    PURGE


    ----------------------------------


    Advanced Priest Magic


    Clears all status effects from


    target, positive and negative.


    Requires physical contact.


    Casting Cost: 100 MP


    <hr>


    Oh, wow, by far and away my most expensive spell to date! It even comes with a hefty purchase price of five thousand points!


    I''ve got enough points to cover it, though, which is probably an indication that I''m hoarding them too much, but that''s a problem for Future Remmi. Present Remmi reasons that it''s worth the cost since we don''t have a healer with us, and decides to take the leap against what will probably be Future Remmi''s better judgment. But, again, that''s her problem, not mine.


    One purchase, a hundred mana and a boop on the nose later, and Ayre''s eyes snap back into focus. He blinks for a moment before turning to look at me.


    "... Did you just poke my nose?"


    "Don''t worry about that," I assure him with a big grin and a hug. "It''s time to go purify the core!"


    He stares at me a little longer. "Remmi, how drunk are you?"


    "Not as drunk as you were!"


    "Do you really think it''s a good idea to try to purify the core while under the effect of alcohol?"


    I gasp as my eyes open wide. "Oh, gosh, you''re right, Ayre!" I hold up an index finger. "I almost broke the first rule of firearms safety! Never operate under the influence!"


    His gaze goes flat in reply. "I thought the first rule was never point it at something you don''t intend to destroy?"


    I ignore him as I release my grip on the elf and slap my forehead. "Purge!"


    ... Oh, wonderful, Future Remmi just arrived and she realizes she just spent a third of her mana in under a minute ... Well, it could have been worse. Without Hedge Witch, it would have been two thirds.


    Well, whatever, two hundred mana is still way more than enough to use Purification Cannon.


    The Captain takes us back to her quarters, and, with a wave of her hand, reveals the portal to the core.


    "Now, it goes without saying," she warns, "but if you try anything fishy, you''ll be walking the plank, little Hero."


    "We have no intention of any such thing," I assure her. "Besides, if you even thought we might, you''d never have opened it."


    She crosses her arms. "Don''t talk me into changing my mind. Go on, hurry up, I want to see what this is all about."


    "Right!" I switch my rounds for healing bullets, since this core isn''t contaminated and I don''t want to risk damaging it, and step into the core chamber. I raise my gun and concentrate on my aim. "PURIFICATION CANNON!"


    Even outside the portal, Ayre and the Captain both shield their eyes from the blinding light, but by the time it fades, I''ve already got the notification that the core has been warded against contamination.


    I don''t feel satisfied leaving it at that, though. This dungeon has turned out to be a fun time with new friends made, so I want to leave it something.


    I think for a moment on what that should be, though. It doesn''t need more energy, so a purified crystal is out, and it might be rude to give it one from another dungeon, anyway. Or maybe cross-contamination is a thing that''s possible.


    Finally, I settle on the perfect gift: A serving of Essence Rabbit Stew and Essence Bread Pudding with Lemon Sauce so it can share in the feast with those under its care ... and my thesaurus.


    "Maybe pick up some more words besides random pirate sounds, my friend," I bid it, not knowing if it can even comprehend data in written form. It all disappears into the core regardless, however, and I smile as I pat the core and wish it clear skies and favorable winds.

 Book Two Chapter 21 - Leuke

    Chapter 21


    Leuke


    Good hustle on those dungeons, Hero!


    In honor of your dungeon-purifying prowess, we at Heavenly<sup>TM</sup> Systems have engineered an all-new ballistic round just for you: Null Rounds!


    Specifically designed to work with your Purification Cannon, these rounds deal no damage and apply no inherited effect to the Cannon, making it safe to use on all targets, even those you don''t want to horrifically disfigure!


    Remember, you''re not shooting blanks! You''re shooting Heavenly Essence<sup>TM</sup> brand Null Rounds!


    The advertisement had popped up the first time I opened up my points store after we left the Desert Cove dungeon, and I''m still reflecting on it as I turn the gray-striped magazine over in my hand.


    New products like this tend to appear, from what I''ve noticed, whenever there''s a need for them based on what I''ve been doing. Of course, even the ad stated that this release is related to purifying the dungeons. The real question is, what about it demanded their need? Am I risking damage to the cores using other rounds?


    Well, I have them now. That''s the important thing. I can use them on cores and people both when I don''t want to, say, take the roof off of an inn. Just to throw out a random example. Yeah, I''m pretty sure that played a part in the generation of these bullets, too.


    I had shared the message with Ayre at the time, and he leans across the carriage to me now. "What does it mean to shoot blanks?"


    "Ah, well," I try, floundering for a moment as I search for the words to explain a meaning I take for granted, "it means there''s no bullet."


    Ayre''s eyes go to the magazine in my hand. "But the bullets are right there."


    Oh, right, I guess I''ve never really explained the structure of bullets to him before. Ayre must think they''re like the bolt magazines for my crossbow.


    "Ah, no, these are cartridges," I explain. "The bullet is really just the little bit at the end, that''s the only part that goes flying. That''s why you see the empty cases coming out of my gun."


    I reach into my satchel, pull out my usual overpressure magazine, then pop a loose round out of it. I hold the bullet up and point to the metal bit at the end. "We can call the whole thing a bullet for simplicity''s sake, but this bit here, that''s the actual projectile, a shaped cap of soft metal like lead or copper. Its shape determines what it does on impact, usually mashing or shredding to increase kinetic damage."


    I turn the bullet around and point to the center of the flat end, where there''s a little circle. "This here''s the primer. It''s what''s struck by the pistol''s mechanisms when I pull the trigger. When it''s struck by the firing pin, it transmits a little spark, like striking flint, to the inside of the cartridge."


    Finally, I turn the bullet sideways, holding it between my index fingers with one on the base and one on the nose. "In between the primer and the bullet is a powder that explodes once that spark reaches it. That''s what you hear when the gun goes off, or the better part of it, anyway. The explosion generates high-pressure gases that are what shoves the bullet down the barrel and into the target."


    I can tell that I lost Ayre somewhere along the way from his thousand-yard stare. After a moment, it comes to focus on me again as his ears nearly go as flat as his expression. "Remmi, be honest. Do your people over-complicate their inventions for the fun of it?"


    "Yes," I chirp without missing a beat. "We call them Goldberg machines, and there''s whole competitions to see who can accomplish the simplest tasks with the most complex creation!" I motion with the bullet again. "But this isn''t one of them! Come on, your people have fireworks, don''t you? It''s based off of the same idea!"


    "Remmi, that is nothing like a firework!" He pauses after saying that, as if a thought struck him. He leans back and rubs his chin for a moment. "Though, you know what it does remind me of? Your explanation of how your people generate electric-elemented energy. That long chain of transmutation you cycle through to end up with what you want. Except, instead of fire, water, air, metal and, finally, electricity, it''s fire, earth, air and metal."


    I rub my cheek in a thinking pose of my own. "Hmm, I guess you could describe it that way. The problem is that we can''t just generate the desired element directly, so we come up with ways to quickly do so with something we can generate."


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    "Fire," Ayre immediately provides. "Both processes start with Fire. Do all of your processes start that way?"


    I consider the question for several moments before answering, going over different mechanical processes in my head. "Most certainly do. Heat is easy to create and releases a lot of energy that we can then use to do other things. It''s a fundamental universal force, so the number of ways to get it are more limited by our creativity than by a lack of options."


    The elf across from me frowns in contemplation. "I suppose that''s the limitation of a world without magic. I can''t imagine the chaos of a world where the fundamental elements run completely uncontrolled like that."


    I can only shrug. "To us, that''s just the normal world. When we first discovered fire, it was probably from a random lightning strike, and we had to figure out how to keep that source fire burning until we learned to make our own."


    I grin, though. "But now?" And I toss the bullet up and catch it again. "Now, we''re masters of the whole planet, and all of those forces work for us. No beast can threaten us and no storm can chase us away."


    Ayre frowns again, this time in disapproval. "If you had magic, a suitably powerful mage could just make the storm go away."


    "Maybe," I admit with a nod, "but from a world without magic, we created a world where nobody needs it, either. Everything we create can be used by anyone, all without using a single drop of magic."


    Further discussion is interrupted by the carriage bell ringing, an indication that the driver needs to speak to us.


    Since Ayre is closer, he gets a knee up on the seat and turns to slide the hatch open. It reveals the road ahead of us, still mostly nothing but fields and trees. I can see some farms in the distance, though, which tells me that we''re coming up on some outpost of civilization.


    "Is something wrong?" the elf asks.


    I don''t know the driver''s name. Drivers are available for hire at way stations for those without one under dedicated employment, but they only drive so far and to a given destination. After that, you have to hire a different one to go any further.


    I''m reminded that this one must be very new the moment he opens his mouth. "Madam," he addresses the archer. "There''s a horseman approaching us from the rear."


    I frown at that. "Just one?" That''s nothing out of the ordinary. We''re passed by mounted horsemen all of the time. They''re simply faster than our one-horse carriage. They''re usually messengers, mailmen essentially, moving between way stations. The driver wouldn''t be alerting us just for that. We''d seen half a dozen of them just since he came on.


    "He appears to be heavily armed, Madam, and I don''t see any regalia."


    Oh. Yeah, okay, I can see why that would raise alarm. Anyone would be suspicious seeing such a thing. Even adventurers would be traveling in a group, but a lone warrior bearing no markings? In a world where one man can be more powerful than a dozen soldiers, that could be bad news. You don''t need a whole crew to take down one carriage; you only have to be strong enough to beat its defenders.


    I stuff my bullets away and unfasten the strap securing my pistol, then turn around in my own seat to look out the back window.


    There''s the warrior, alright, and heavily armed is an understatement. He''s wearing steel armor, and while he only has one weapon, it''s a massive sword that looks like it could sunder the whole carriage in one strike. And I have no doubt its master has the strength to do exactly that.


    After all, I''ve seen his status window.


    I strap my gun back down and jump for the door even though we''re still moving, and I''m grinning all the while. I ignore Ayre''s panicked cry as I lean halfway out the door, holding to the railing on the outside with one hand as I wave to the fiery redhead with the other.


    "LEUKE!"


    It only takes a few moments of the wild swings of my arm as I shout his name before he recognizes what he''s seeing and spurs his horse to speed up. In just a dozen seconds or so, he''s slowing it down again to match our speed.


    "Rem! Is that you?!"


    "Leuke!" I shout back, more from excitement at bumping into a fellow Hero after so long than a need to be heard. "What are you doing clear out here?!"


    "I could ask you the same," he declares. "I''m on my way home! I heard there''s a dispute with some oni over holy grounds and took the excuse to report in."


    "Excuse me, Madam," the driver addresses me, "should I pull over?"


    That''s a reminder that I''m still hanging out of the door, and I look down at the road passing by underneath as if seeing it for the first time. "Ah, no, I''ll use the window. Just a sec, Leuke."


    I pull myself back in and close the door, then go to open the window.


    While I''m working the crank, Ayre comes over and whispers to me. "Who is he?"


    "Oh, that''s Leuke," I say without giving it much thought. "He''s the Swordmaster Hero. I haven''t seen him since the capitol!"


    "Another Hero ...?"


    I don''t get to answer since the window''s open now and I''m faced with my fellow Hero again. Just as well, I wouldn''t know how to answer it. Ayre''s never treated me with any real sense of awe, so I don''t know how to deal with the tone with which he''s speaking of Leuke.


    I clear my head and focus on the conversation in front of me. "Your hometown doesn''t happen to be Giri Village, would it?"


    "That''s the one," he cheerfully confirms. "Bigger than most villages, but still doesn''t have that big-city feel that makes it all crowded with strangers, you know?"


    "I think I can relate," I agree. "I''m not from a big place, myself, and I just spent a couple months in Dabun! Got myself a piece of land and everything."


    "Oh, that land the Empress promised you?" he recalls. "Glad you like it! But what''s bringing you to Giri?"


    "We''re doing a dungeon tour," I provide readily. "Clearing all of the dungeons up and down the border with the Demesne!"


    For some reason, mentioning the Demesne seems to unnerve the big guy in a way I didn''t think he could be bothered. "The Western Demesne is a dangerous place, Rem."


    I''m gobsmacked. "Dangerous enough to bother you like this?"


    He shakes his head. "It was the first place we were sent. All four of us. We only went to the border, but it was like another world. We barely made it out with our lives."


    I think for a moment. "That''s where the darkness is coming from, right?"


    He nods, his jaw set at the memory.


    I force a chipper tune to my voice. "Well, the good news, then, is that this dungeon tour might just help with that!"


    That gets his attention, but the details will have to wait until we''re somewhere better for carrying on a long conversation than the middle of the highway.

 Book Two Chapter 22 - Rooms

    Chapter 22


    Rooms


    "So this is a gun?"


    I''ve already unloaded and emptied the chamber of the weapon before passing it across the carriage to Leuke, and now he''s examining it from every angle.


    "That''s right," I confirm. "The one and only in all of the Furinshao Empire. Probably even all of Toleste."


    He slips his hand around the grip. "It seems so small, but it''s heavy for its size."


    I nod. "That''s because the barrel and chamber have to be up to handling an explosion going off inside. The smaller the bullet, the lighter a build you can get away with."


    "Messing with explosions in your hands," the fighter muses as he looks down the sights. "It sounds like a good way to get hurt ..."


    "Only if you handle it incorrectly or don''t take good care of it," I counter. "Like any other weapon, really."


    "That makes sense," Leuke agrees readily as he passes the firearm back to me.


    He immediately grins widely, though, like he''s a little kid that just got promised candy. "I can''t wait to see what you can do with it! I can''t believe it was there all along! We totally missed out on seeing you in action!"


    "Ah, it''s really loud," I excuse bashfully. "It would have scared all of the nobles and maybe distracted the rest of you." I motion toward Ayre, trying not to look desperate for a save. "Ayre''s always complaining about the noise."


    The elf nods in agreement. "When she does it inside caves, my ears have a low ringing and light pain in them that lingers until I receive healing." He frowns at me. "It''s entirely possible the noise alone is capable of causing physical damage."


    "It''s called tinnitus," I provide, ignoring the look Ayre gives me, "and you''re supposed to be wearing hearing protection, but I haven''t seen anything that would do the job. Not to mention, by design, it would reduce how well you hear. Y''know, in the middle of combat."


    The elf shakes his head. "Remmi, you even have a name for the injury. Should you really be taking it so flippantly?"


    I lean back in my seat as I cross my arms behind my head. "At least healing magic clears it up. We should be grateful it''s such an easy fix. I can pat you on the head, and away it goes!"


    "Whoa, hold on," Leuke interjects. "You have healing magic? Like Sei?"


    "In a few different flavors," I admit, rubbing the back of my head, "but none of it''s going to be as good as what she can do. I actually picked up enough magic to get the Hedge Witch trait."


    "Wow, really?!" he asks, leaning over the table. "I haven''t gotten any new traits yet!" He catches himself, though, and leans partially back into his seat. "Er, not that I''m complaining. The ones we started with seem really good all on their own, and it''s not like I intend to do much else than hit my problems with a sword, anyway, I guess, so being better at that works for me."


    I feel bad enough for him that I''m not about to tell him about Jack of all Trades, but Ayre has no such scruples.


    "Oh, she''s actually gotten two of them! She picks them up disgustingly easily ..."


    I facepalm at Leuke''s crestfallen expression and mutter to the elf, "I wasn''t going to say anything about that, Ayre. It''s obvious he wants one of his own."


    Ayre goes beet red at that, ears twitching in nervous embarrassment. "Oh, gosh, I''m so sorry, that was insensitive of me!"


    Leuke recovers quickly, however, and smiles as he waves a dismissive hand. "Don''t worry about it, don''t worry about it. She was taught a whole bunch about a lot of stuff, right? It only makes sense that she''d end up digging a lot of wells."


    I blink, taking a moment to realize that was an idiom. Especially since I did, in fact, dig a well. "That was part of it, yeah," I confirm once I get my wits about me again. "The other is Jack of All Trades, and it''s for doing a bit of everything with general skills. I built my own house, even. Twice, because I decided the first time wasn''t good enough."


    Leuke looks impressed, but Ayre sighs and tells on me again, crossing his arms with another shake of his head. "She still doesn''t think it''s good enough. The thing''s big enough for a small family, but she won''t be content until it''s got what she calls a living room."


    "... What''s a living room?"


    "Apparently, it''s a big, entire room dedicated to sitting around."


    But Leuke''s face lights up. "Oh! Like a tea room!"


    Ayre narrows his eyes at the other Hero. "That''s not how you use a tea room."


    But I chuckle at the comparison. "I''m probably going to need one of those, too, huh? And a rock garden."


    "Remmi," Ayre whines, "your house is going to be sprawling if you keep adding rooms like that!"


    "Not if I make it two stories," I counter. "I can put the bedrooms upstairs, and places for company and the kitchen downstairs!"


    "Bedrooms, plural?" Leuke asks.


    I shrug. "Gotta have room for when friends visit. And teammates. Right now, Ayre and I sleep only separated by a divider."


    "That''s normal," Ayre insists. "If you have a big enough house for guests, that''s what you use the tatami room for!"


    That bewilders me. "You have an entire room for storing tatami? And you want to shove guests in there, too?"


    "It''s not for storing tatami. The floor is all tatami mats! It''s an all-purpose room that you can shuffle around to be whatever you need, or just lay out bedding in for guests."


    "Enough about rooms," Leuke finally dismisses the topic with a shake of his head. "Tell me more about these traits!"


    I take a moment to gather my words. "Well, like I said, Jack of All Trades is for general skills." I pull it up and flip it about for him to see as I explain the contents. "It required me to learn and display at least ten different general skills, which would be pretty steep for a non-Hero, but it increases how much I pick up and can figure out about the skills, and increases the quality and speed of my work."


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    "Plus an increase in point gain from it," he observes. "That''s amazing! And what''s Auto-Mode?"


    "Ah, Auto-Mode is a little trickier to explain," I say as I try to explain it, anyway. "I take a penalty to the points I would gain for crafting and the rate of my growth in understanding the skill, but in exchange, I go through all of the steps without having to think about it. As near as I can tell, I always produce the best result I know how to get, too, so human error is completely removed."


    "Wow," Leuke breathes. "I know so many people that would love to have a skill like that! Farmers, smiths, carpenters, seamstresses ... It would change lives!"


    I nod in agreement, even if his enthusiasm is a little overwhelming. "Auto-Mode''s description suggests there may be other ways to earn it, like just getting really, really good at one repetitive task. That might be an easier way to gain it than mastering ten separate general skills."


    "It would also mean a much more limited Auto-Mode, too, though, wouldn''t it?" Ayre asks. "After all, if it''s only for one kind of task, then you can''t automate anything else, right?"


    "What''s far cooler, though," I insist, "is that Auto-Mode is an entirely different kind of skill called a Hidden Skill. It doesn''t consume any points; you just get it automatically the moment you meet the requirements. But that''s the only way to get it, even for a Hero, and there''s no way to know what the requirements are ahead of time."


    "How is that so neat?" Leuke asks, his face twisted in confusion. "That sounds like they''re all but impossible to get!"


    "Sure," I agree, "but that also means there''s an unknowable number of them just waiting to be discovered! You might even get one just for defeating, I don''t know ..." I flounder for a moment. "... ten thousand enemies with your sword!"


    He rubs his chin as he considers that possibility. "That''s a lot of enemies."


    I nod in agreement. "Enough that nobody''s likely to do it outside of exceptional circumstances, which sounds like exactly the kind of ridiculous thing a Hidden Skill might be waiting for."


    "Maybe," he relents, but changes topic slightly. "Still, as incredible as Auto-Mode sounds, it''s really just a crafting skill, isn''t it? How does it help you as a Hero?"


    "Well, mostly in that I maintain and upgrade our gear," I admit. "It''s not a combat skill, but all of the general skills I picked up help me support my allies better off of the battlefield. Better weapons and stat-boosting foods improve our overall performance and boost morale."


    "Stat-boosting foods?" Leuke repeats, almost simultaneously with his stomach growling. That''s right, the guy is a big eater. Probably the sort that''s always hungry.


    I reach into my bag and pull out a sub sandwich. The meat, like most that I had to work with in Dabun, is rabbit, but the vegetables are all Essence crops, and the topping is mayonnaise, something the Empire, as far as I have seen, doesn''t have.


    "Eat up," I say as I pass it to him.


    He stares at the sandwich, looking between it and my bag. "You just had this stuffed in there? It''s longer than the bag!"


    "Oh, it wasn''t in the bag," I clarify. "I have an extradimensional storage space that''s tied to the bag. It was a reward for destroying a Heart of Corruption outside Dabun Village. There doesn''t seem to be an upper limit on space, and time is halted for everything in it. It lets our food remain as fresh as the moment it went in!"


    "Fresh food, all the time? That''s a quest reward I could get behind!" He tears into the sandwich and immediately begins making sounds of approval.


    I take the relative silence, minus the violence being inflicted upon my cooking just across the carriage from me, to move the topic along. I make a mental note to get it cleaned before the crumbs draw mice.


    "In terms of direct combat ability, Hedge Witch is far more beneficial. It basically gives me some of the benefits of being an actual mage, increasing the mana I get from my Intellect, increasing the potency of my spells, and decreasing their mana cost."


    I open the window for Hedge Witch and share it in place of Jack''s window. "The bonuses are good, but probably only half of what an actual mage would have, let alone what Benarou must be able to do."


    "Why are you inveshting sho much into magic, anyway?" Having a mouth full of sandwich clearly doesn''t give Leuke pause in speaking.


    "Well ... I''m not, really," I answer awkwardly. "It''s just utility stuff, like Spark and Cleanse, and I picked up Heal, though I think my Healing Bullets are better. Oh, and Diagnose. Using it and Identify on the same target unlocks Identify Level Two."


    This time, Leuke swallows. The sandwich is mostly gone already. "I guess that''s not that much, when you spread it out like that. Didn''t you at least get anything for combat?"


    I nod. "I did, and I didn''t get Hedge Witch until then. Ayre taught me Spiral Shot, which increases the potency and penetration of ranged weapon attacks, and a retired Platinum-rank adventurer advised me to pick up Empower, since I actually have the mana for it. With Hedge Witch, it increases all of my physical abilities by seventy-five percent, but burns through mana as long as it''s active."


    "Phew," he declares, wiping the last of the sandwich off with the back of his hand. "Now that sounds powerful. I wish I had the mana for something like that. How much are you working with now?"


    I grin as I back out of the trait and share my actual status window.


    <hr>


    NAME: Remmi Lee


    RACE: Human (Outsider)


    AGE: 15 (24)


    LEVEL: 15


    CLASS: Gunslinger


    HP: 400/400


    MP: 300/300


    SP: 400/400


    STRENGTH: 100


    TOUGHNESS: 100


    INTELLECT: 200


    AGILITY: 200


    POINTS: 17,520


    TRAITS:


    Hero


    Gun Nut


    Jack of All Trades (General)


    Hedge Witch


    <hr>


    Suspecting Leuke may not be the best at math, I provide, "With Empower active, that would boost my Strength and Toughness to one hundred seventy-five, and my Agility to three hundred fifty. If I''m not casting anything else, I can keep that up for two minutes straight, but I normally toggle it on and off as needed to extend that."


    In fact, that puts me nearly to Zeiya''s level, that retired Platinum-rank adventurer. Not that I''d assume I was on her level even if it allowed me to match her, as I''m sure she has just as many ways to go beyond her base stats, if not more.


    Leuke nearly jumps out of his seat with a look on his face of pure glee. "Wow, you''ve made amazing gains since we started! If you''d had this status then, you''d be the most powerful Hero summoned! And you''re still only level fifteen?!"


    I can only rub the back of my head at his returned enthusiasm as he continues to rave while the carriage rolls on toward Giri Village. He genuinely seems happy just for the sake of someone else doing well. He doesn''t even bring his own stats up for a comparison, even though he''s no doubt grown, too. I feel like he''d have cheered me on even if I''d only made half the gains I have.


    The System really chose well when it picked him to be a Hero.

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